The Art Of The UnderDog

Chapter 7

Tears of joy welled up in Tyler's eyes as he watched his mother being attended to by Dr. Samuel, whose furrowed brow hinted at concern. Tyler took a seat by her side, albeit Lady Guila had already left after the ordeal involving Tyler and the doctors, having a business meeting to attend.

"So, when will she wake up?" Tyler inquired eagerly, his voice brimming with the need for reassurance about his mother's well-being.

"She will regain consciousness soon. Right now, she just needs some rest, and she'll be back on her feet," the doctor explained to Tyler. A spark of hope gleamed in Tyler's eyes as he nodded in understanding.

Nothing brought Tyler greater joy than hearing that his mother would recover. His entire existence revolved around her. She had been there for him since childhood, after the tragic loss of his father. She remained his utmost priority.

"By the way, the operation is scheduled for two days from now," added Dr. Samuel.

"Why the delay? Why not tomorrow?" Tyler narrowed his eyes, his tone indicating deep concern. The doctor, who had been tending to and readjusting the IV drip, turned fully to face Tyler, clearly apprehensive.

"That's because the doctor in charge of the operation went on leave and will be returning tomorrow. I managed to persuade him to join me for the procedure." The doctor's explanation carried lingering tension, revealing his fear of Tyler.

Tyler gazed at his mother, then back at the doctor. He appeared somber, his worry etched across his face. Despite his efforts to remain optimistic, he couldn't help but fret over his mother's well-being.

He tenderly grasped his mother's right hand, bringing it closer to his face. Gently, he curved his other hand and placed it on her pale, patchy face, a clear sign of dehydration, explained by the presence of the water drip.

"You're going to be fine, Mom. I'll do everything within my power to ensure your recovery," he vowed, his voice firm yet trembling with emotion. His face contorted, a blend of pain and a glimmer of joy. There was so much he wanted to share with her.

"There's so much we need to talk about. I can't wait for you to wake up and scold me about my drinking habits," he chuckled dryly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he laughed.

Tyler held onto his mother's hand even tighter, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it. Sniffles escaped him, and he used the back of his hand to gently wipe his teary nose while still clutching her hand.

"I pray for your recovery because there's so much good news I have to share with you," he nodded as he spoke, tears welling in his eyes amidst his smile. It was a whirlwind of mixed emotions, both joy and sadness, intertwining within him.

Tyler maintained his grip on his mother's hand as he reflected on his life, from the past until that very moment. Tears welled up uncontrollably as he recalled the times when doctors would treat him harshly due to his inability to pay the medical bills. And now, there he was, with the intention of buying the entire hospital. He swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat, and closed his eyes, marveling at how his life had changed in the blink of an eye.

While Tyler was lost in his reminiscence of the past and the present, the door creaked open. Unbeknownst to him, the doctor had quietly left the room. His thoughts consumed him to the point where he hadn't noticed. He pursed his lips and let out a deep sigh, his gaze fixed on his mother, lying unconscious before him.

A smile of anticipation spread across Tyler's face as he envisioned his mother's upcoming happiness and overwhelming joy upon discovering that she would no longer suffer for the rest of her life.

"Mr. Francesco Damiano," the lawyer's voice pierced Tyler's ears from behind.

Tyler turned to the side and glanced behind him.

"Tyler, not Francesco," he corrected with a smile.

"Of course, Mr. Tyler," the lawyer corrected himself, smiling in return. He adjusted his suit and positioned himself in front of Tyler.

"I thought you left with Lady Guila," Tyler remarked while continuing to rub the back of his mother's hand.

"No, I didn't. I still have something to discuss with you before I head to the office," the lawyer explained.

"Okay. By the way, if you don't mind, I'd like to know your name," Tyler shrugged, expressing his curiosity.

"Fiorenzo Mateo. You already know that I am the legal advisor for your family," he replied with a bright smile.

Fiorenzo, a handsome and muscular Black man with a well-groomed beard, looked distinguished in his suit as it accentuated his physique.

"I overheard the doctor saying that she'll be awake soon," Fiorenzo said as he leaned closer to Tyler's mother.

"Yes, that's what he said. I can't wait to have her back," Tyler admitted.

"She will undoubtedly be fine," Fiorenzo assured. "By the way, I have something to discuss with you," he added.

"Alright, what is it?" Tyler's curiosity was piqued, and he turned his full attention to Fiorenzo.

"As you are the heir to the family business, the properties have been transferred to your name. You just need to visit the bank and sign some documents for the funds to be transferred accordingly. I would have accompanied you, but I'm quite busy, and I need to cover a meeting on behalf of Lady Guila, who's attending to some business here in Phoenix," Fiorenzo explained.

"Okay then. But I can't leave my mother here. I think I'll have to do that once she wakes up," Tyler agreed, outlining his condition.

After a few discussions, Fiorenzo managed to convince Tyler to leave his mother under the watchful eyes of the guards who were present at the hospital solely for her protection.

Convinced, Tyler made his way to the bank.

"Good day, ma'am," Tyler greeted the teller.

She responded with a disdainful look, her eyes scanning him with obvious hostility, her blond curls cascading down her shoulders.

"I need to see the manager. I'm Tyler Francesco Damiano, and Fiorenzo Mateo, the family's legal advisor, sent me here to sign some documents," Tyler explained, maintaining a friendly smile.

The blonde teller stared at Tyler with an empty gaze, her eyes conveying a deeper meaning. Tyler's eyes narrowed as he realized that her stare held an underlying message.

"Sir, can you please clarify why you're here? There's no way you could be the person you claim to be. I have a long line of people waiting, so please don't waste my time," she retorted.

Confusion washed over Tyler's face. "I'm being completely serious. I am Tyler Francesco Damiano, the rightful heir of the Damiano group of companies," Tyler reiterated, trying to be more explicit.

"Sir, I don't have all day. Just look at yourself. How on earth could you be the heir of the Damiano group of companies? Please don't make me call security to have you removed. You can leave now, please," she stated, her voice growing louder.

At that moment, Tyler drew more attention, but unfortunately, it wasn't the kind he desired. The queue behind him started murmuring, curious about the unfolding situation between Tyler and the teller.

"Please, just believe me. I'm not lying to you. I am Tyler Francesco Damiano. Can you please allow me to see the manager? Please," Tyler's irritation seeped into his words. All he wanted was to get things done and move on.

The blonde teller picked up the phone and dialed the security department.

"Please, believe me!" Tyler slammed his hand on the counter in frustration.

"Sir, don't make me call the police as well," she warned.

Tyler spotted the security personnel approaching. His eyes scanned the surroundings and locked onto the manager's office behind them. He swiftly leaped over the counter, intending to make a dash for the manager's office. However, someone grabbed hold of his wrist just before he could enter.