Kian Silver's POV
The world didn't stop when your heart cracked.
It didn't pause when the air in your lungs suddenly felt too thin, or when your hands started shaking for reasons you couldn't explain.
It just kept moving, loud and careless, while you stood there trying not to fall apart.
Kian Silver stared at his laptop screen, but the code in front of him blurred into meaningless symbols.
His fingers hovered above the keyboard, frozen, as if his body had forgotten what it meant to function.
His phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
His chest tightened even before he picked it up.
He didn't need to check the caller ID.
He already knew.
His throat went dry.
Slowly, he lifted the phone.
"Hello?"
The voice on the other end was calm, professional… the kind of calm that made Kian hate hospitals even more.
They always sounded like they were delivering news about someone else's life.
"Mr. Silver, this is St. Agnes Hospital."
Kian's stomach dropped.
His grip tightened on the phone.
"Yes… yes, I'm here. What happened? Is she okay?"
There was a pause.
A pause that felt like a knife being dragged across his nerves.
"Your grandmother's condition has worsened. Her vitals are unstable.
The doctor has recommended immediate surgery."
Kian blinked, his brain struggling to register the words.
Surgery.
Immediately.
His throat tightened like invisible hands were choking him.
"W-what kind of surgery?"
"She needs an emergency operation to prevent further complications. We also need to begin additional chemotherapy sessions after the procedure."
The words hit him like a punch to the ribs.
Kian's vision dimmed for a second.
"How much?" he asked, his voice coming out hoarse.
Another pause.
And then the number was spoken.
A number so large it didn't feel real.
It felt like the hospital had just told him to pay for the sky.
Kian's lips parted, but no sound came out.
His knees weakened slightly and he leaned back against the wall, staring blankly ahead as if his eyes could find an answer written somewhere in the air.
"We need the payment confirmation as soon as possible," the voice continued. "If you cannot make the deposit today, the procedure may be delayed."
Delayed.
That single word made his heart stop.
"No," Kian said instantly. "No, it can't be delayed. I'll… I'll pay."
"Mr. Silver—"
"I said I'll pay." His voice cracked, but he forced it stronger. "I'll figure it out."
"Alright. Please come to the billing department as soon as possible.
The surgery must be scheduled within the next twenty-four hours."
Kian swallowed hard.
"Okay," he whispered.
Then the call ended.
And suddenly the room was too quiet.
Too quiet for the storm raging inside him.
He slowly lowered the phone, staring at it as if it had betrayed him.
His grandmother.
The only person left.
The only person who had never abandoned him.
The only person who had loved him without conditions.
When he was seven years old, he had stood beside a coffin too small for two people and watched strangers lower his parents into the ground.
A car accident.
That was what they called it.
A simple tragedy.
A cruel twist of fate.
But fate didn't take his parents gently.
It tore them away, violently, leaving him alone with nothing but the memory of his mother's smile and his father's warm hands.
After that, the world had become cold.
Too cold for a child.
But his grandmother… she had been warmth.
She had been shelter.
She had been food on the table when there shouldn't have been any.
She had been the reason he survived.
And now leukemia was stealing her.
Slowly.
Cruelly.
Like a thief who didn't care how much screaming it caused.
Kian closed his eyes, breathing in shakily.
He had already been working himself to the bone.
Studying until his eyes burned.
Doing part-time jobs until his body begged for sleep.
Taking freelance hacking gigs at night, not because he wanted to, but because bills didn't care if you were tired.
But it wasn't enough.
It was never enough.
He opened his eyes again, staring at the laptop screen.
The code was still there.
Waiting.
Mocking him.
He let out a shaky breath and forced himself to sit properly.
His fingers returned to the keyboard.
If the world wanted to crush him, then he would just become sharper.
Harder.
A blade that didn't break.
"I'm not losing her," he whispered to himself.
His jaw clenched.
His eyes darkened.
"I'm not."
And with that, he started typing again.
Faster.
Harder.
More determined than ever.
Because he didn't have the luxury of falling apart.
Not when she was still alive.
Not when she was still waiting for him.
Evan Leigh's POV
Evan Leigh hated wasting time.
Time was money, time was control, time was power.
And right now, time was slipping through his fingers like water.
The office was quiet, but the tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate.
Evan sat behind his desk, one hand tapping lightly against the polished surface as his assistant stood in front of him, nervously holding a tablet.
The assistant cleared his throat.
"Sir… I got it."
Evan's eyes lifted slowly.
"What?"
"The school address. Kian Silver's university."
Evan's lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.
Finally.
"Send it to my phone," Evan said, already standing.
"Yes, sir."
Evan grabbed his coat, slipping it on like a man slipping into armor.
He didn't waste another second.
His shoes clicked against the marble floor as he walked out of the office, his presence alone enough to make every employee lower their heads.
Because Evan Leigh wasn't just Diamant Reed's friend.
He wasn't just a man with money.
He was a man people feared.
Not because he was loud.
Not because he was violent.
But because Evan Leigh had a gift.
He could ruin you without lifting a finger.
He got into his car, the engine roaring to life like it had been waiting for him.
And as the city blurred past him, Evan's thoughts narrowed into a single point.
Kian Silver.
A student.
A hacker.
A boy with enough arrogance to reject him repeatedly.
Most people would call that stupidity.
Evan called it entertainment.