A soft, feminine voice spoke through the receiver, "Hello, this is the First City Hospital calling. Is this India Avendano?" India's brows furrowed in confusion. She exchanged a surprised glance with Nicholas as she replied, "Yes, this is India. May I know who is calling?" The voice on the other end took on a solemn tone as she introduced herself, "I'm calling from the First City Hospital. I regret to inform you that Mr. Robert Avendano and Mr. Xavier Avendano were involved in an accident and have been rushed to our hospital." Time seemed to freeze as the words settled in the room. The crowd before them was struck with shock, their minds struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. India's voice wavered as she managed to gather herself, "Are they... are they alright?" "Is my husband okay? What did she say? Are they going to be fine?" Maria, her voice tinged with both trepidation and worry, yelled loudly. Despite the chaos within her, India found stre

"I will settle the bill," Niçholas declared, his tone unwavering. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy as the Avendano family stared at Niçholas in bewilderment. Their laughter had abruptly ceased, replaced now by a mix of astonishment, confusion, and a tinge of disbelief. It seemed unthinkable to them that Niçholas would offer to foot the hospital bills; a notion so absurd that it had prompted their sudden outburst of laughter. As the laughter subsided, Maria took a step forward, her eyes fixed on him. Was he trying to embarrass them? Her voice trembled with a mixture of anger and disbelief as she demanded an explanation. "What did you just say, Niçholas?" she asked, her tone laced with an undertone of incredulity. Niçholas simply shrugged in response, his expression neutral. "Mother in-law, I actually overheard Alex mentioning to you that the Avendano family might go bankrupt if they continue spending so lavishly," he explained casually. "So, I decided to c

Maria and Alex exchanged glances as they walked into the dimly lit hall. Lord Avendano laid there on the bed, his head wrapped in a bandage, his frail form a testament to the recent mishap that had befallen him. Maria's eyes were etched with concern as she walked further in. As Maria hurried to Lord Avendano's side, she embraced him tightly, tears coursing down her cheeks. Lord Avendano chuckled warmly, patting her back gently. "I'm so happy to finally see you, Maria," he said weakly, his voice filled with genuine joy, "I have been yearning to see at least a family," Alex stepped forward, his worry etched on his face, "How are you doing now, Lord Avendano? We were so scared to death when we got the call, I hope you are fine now." Lord Avendano nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I am getting better, Alex, thank you," he replied, his voice soft but resolute. "But tell me, where is India? Where are the rest of my grandchildren? I long to see them too..

They finally arrived at the new hospital where Mr. Xavier had been transferred to. The urgency of the situation propelled the medical team into action, rushing him to the ward for immediate treatment. "It's Mr. Avendano, Lord Avendano's first son... We must try our best to save him." One of the doctors said as they rushed him into the ward. Immediately Nicholas saw the old and experienced doctor that would be treating Xavier, he was rest assured that he was in good hand, but still he couldn't get the thought of doing the treatment himself off his head. He anxiously waited at the entrance of the theater, his hopes pinned on Xavier's swift recovery. Time seemed to stretch as Nicholas anxiously waited, his mind consumed with worry. Not only about Xavier, but about Lord Avendano... One thing Nicholas was certain of was that Maria had a plan... But what plan? She and Alex looked very suspicious, but Nicholas didn't want to start assuming. After what felt like forever, t

The security men that were dragging Nicholas out of the hospital cafeteria stopped when they heard a voice, "stop," that reverberated through the cafeteria. The sound of it echoed through the room, commanding attention and freezing everyone in place. And then appeared, Dr. Martinez, an elderly gentleman with graying hair and a deeply lined face. He was the president of NewYork-Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia and Cornell. Dr. Martinez's presence demanded respect. His posture was straight, his gaze sharp with intelligence behind the spectacles perched on his nose. He wore a white lab coat, its sleeves slightly frayed from years of dedicated service to medicine. His hands, weathered and etched with age, revealed the countless lives he had touched and saved throughout his illustrious career. The cafeteria fell into an expectant silence, all eyes fixed on the commanding figure of Dr. Martinez. He exuded an aura of authority, an innate understanding of the complex