CHAPTER SEVEN

Ivy's POV

The door swings shut behind me, and my legs give out before I can take another step. My knees hit the floor, the cold tile biting through the thin dress. My chest heaves, sobs ripping out of me like they've been caged for years. The club's music pulses through the walls, but it's just noise now, drowning out nothing.

"Ivy!" Antonio's voice cuts through the haze. He's there in a second, kneeling beside me, his hands grabbing my shoulders.

"Hey, hey, what happened? Look at me!" I can't.

My face is buried in my hands, tears soaking my palms.

"I-I can't... I can't do this..."

"Do what? Ivy, talk to me!" His grip tightens, not hard, but desperate.

"What did he do to you in there?" I shake my head, the words stuck in my throat like broken glass. "It's not... It's not just him. It's everything. My dad, Antonio... he's dying.

They're gonna pull the plug if I don't get the money."

"Money? What money? Ivy, slow down, what are you talking about?" His voice is sharp, urgent, but his hands are steady, holding me like I might shatter. "The hospital," I choke out.

"They need more-way more than I have. Ten times what I'm paying now. New treatments, new equipment. I've got nothing left. Nothing!"

"Ten times?" His brows shoot up, eyes wide.

"That's... that's insane. How much are we talking?"

"Millions," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I don't have it. I've sold everything-my car, my apartment, every damn thing. And Mom... she won't help. She laughed at me, Antonio. Laughed."

"That witch," he spits, his voice low, venomous.

"Clara's always been a snake. But you're here... in this place? Ivy, why didn't you come to me first?" I look up at him, his face blurry through my tears.

"I couldn't. Not after what she did to your family. To your mom. I can't drag you into this."

"Drag me?" He leans closer, his brown eyes burning. "Ivy, we grew up together. You're family. You think I'd let you do this-sell yourself-to save him? No way. I've got money. I'll pay."

"No!" I shove his hands off, my voice rising. "I won't let you. It's my fight, Antonio. My dad. My mess. You don't owe me anything."

"Owe you? This isn't about owing!" He grabs my wrists, gentle but firm. "You're standing here, falling apart, and I'm supposed to just watch? Tell me how much, Ivy. I'll write the check right now."

"Stop it!" I yank free, stumbling back. "You don't get it. Your dad, Dante-he's part of why Mom left us. Why she took everything. I can't take your money, not when it's tied to them." His jaw tightens, and for a second, he looks like he might argue. Then his shoulders sag.

"You're stubborn as hell, you know that? Always have been." I laugh, but it's bitter, broken. "Yeah, well, it's all I've got left."

"Not true," he says softly, stepping closer again. "You've got me. You've always had me." My sobs catch in my throat, and I let him pull me into his arms. His shirt smells like cedar and soap, and for a moment, I'm ten years old again, hiding in his treehouse after Mom screamed at me for breaking her favorite vase.

"I'm so tired," I whisper against his chest. "I've been fighting for him for three years. Three years, Antonio. And now... now I'm here, in this damn dress, doing... this."

"You don't have to," he murmurs, his voice low, fierce. "You're better than this place. Better than him." Him. Alessio. I stiffen, pulling back just enough to look at Antonio.

"He paid me. A billion. For one night. It's enough to keep Dad alive for now."

"A billion?" Antonio's eyes widen, then narrow. "And you said yes? Ivy, what the hell were you thinking? He's using you!" "I know!" I snap, my voice cracking. "You think I don't know? But what choice did I have? The hospital's gonna let him die if I don't pay by tomorrow!"

"There's always a choice," he says, but his tone softens, like he knows it's not that simple. "You could've called me. I would've found a way." "And what? Ruin your life too?" I shake my head, wiping my face with the back of my hand.

"You've got your own battles with your dad. With Elena. I see how she looks at you, like you're in her way. I won't add to that."

"Elena?" He snorts, but there's no humor in it. "She's a spoiled brat who thinks she's entitled to everything. Don't worry about her. Worry about you."

"I am worried," I admit, my voice barely a whisper. "I'm terrified, Antonio. What I did in there... what I let him do... It's not me. But I'd do it again if it means saving Dad." He pulls me back into his arms, his chin resting on my head.

"You're killing me, Ivy. You don't have to do this alone." "I do," I mumble into his shirt. "Because no one else gets it. No one else knows what it's like to watch him slip away."

"I get it," he says, his voice rough. "I lost my mom, remember? I know what it's like to feel helpless." I pull back, looking up at him. His eyes are glassy, and for a second, I see the boy who cried at his mother's funeral, the one who held my hand through it all. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I didn't mean to-" "Stop apologizing," he cuts me off. "Just let me help. Please." I shake my head again, stepping back.

"I can't. Not like this. Not with your family's money." "Then what?" he demands, throwing his hands up.

"You're gonna go back in there? Let Alessio or some other creep buy you again?" The words hit like a slap, and I flinch. "Don't say that."

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, his voice softening. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... I can't stand seeing you like this."

"I don't have a choice," I say, my voice shaking. "The money he gave me-it's enough for now. But it won't last. I'll have to come back.

Or find another way."

"There's always another way," he insists, stepping closer. "We'll figure it out. Together." I want to believe him. God, I do. But the clock is ticking, and every second feels like a blade at my throat. "Antonio, I-"

"Enough," a cold voice cuts through the air. Alessio. He's standing a few feet away, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. "She's made her bed. Let her lie in it." My stomach twists. "Alessio-"

"Don't," he snaps, his eyes locking on mine, dark and sharp. "You chose this, Ivy. Don't cry about it now." "Chose?" Antonio rounds on him, his fists clenched. "You think she wanted this? You're the one who paid her, you bastard!" Alessio's jaw tightens, but he doesn't move.

"She took the money, didn't she? Just like her mother would've." The words burn, and I feel my knees wobble again. "You don't know anything about me," I whisper, my voice raw.

"I know enough," he says, his tone icy.

"Clara's daughter, playing the victim. You're no different."

"Shut up!" Antonio steps between us, his voice shaking with rage. "You don't get to talk to her like that. Not after what you did."

Alessio's eyes flicker, just for a second, like something in him cracks. But then it's gone, and his face is stone again. "Stay out of it, Antonio. This is between me and her."

"No, it's not," Antonio snaps. "You hurt her. You used her. And for what? Some twisted revenge against Clara?"

Alessio's lips twitch, but he doesn't answer. His silence is worse than any insult. "Stop it, both of you," I say, my voice barely holding together.

"I don't need this right now. I just... I need to get back to the hospital." "Ivy, wait," Antonio says, grabbing my arm gently. "Let me drive you. Please."

I look at him, then at Alessio, whose eyes are still on me, unreadable but heavy. I want to scream at him, to tell him he's wrong, that I'm not my mother. But the words won't come. "Fine," I say to Antonio, my voice hollow. "Let's go."

"Ivy," Alessio says, his voice low, almost a warning. I don't look back. "Don't," I say, echoing his earlier tone.

"You got what you wanted." Antonio wraps an arm around my shoulders, guiding me toward the exit. The music fades behind us, but Alessio's stare follows me like a shadow.

"I'm not letting you do this again," Antonio murmurs as we step into the cool night air. "We'll find another way. I promise." I nod, but I don't believe him. Not yet. The weight of the billion dollars in my account feels like chains, and Alessio's words-you're no different-echo in my head. But for now, I let Antonio lead me away, because if I stop moving, I'll break for good.