Early that morning, Diego woke up a jolt, always thinking of how to raise the money he needed. He barely had time to bathe properly before rushing out of the apartment. Every second mattered. The little money he had managed to earn had to be paid at the hospital today.
When he arrived, the doctor was already making his rounds. When Diego reached his mother's room, the doctor smiled gently. "Your mother is improving," he said.
"She's responding better to treatment. I'm confident she will regain consciousness soon."
Relief flooded Diego's chest. "Thank you, doctor. That's the best news I've heard in weeks."
"All you need to do is ensure her treatment continues uninterrupted," the doctor added carefully. "The bills must be settled consistently."
"I understand," Diego replied. "I'll do everything I can."
As the doctor walked away, Diego's phone rang.
"Hello, brother," Bruce's voice came through.
"Hi, brother."
"Can we meet?" Bruce asked.
"Where?"
"At the café. The one we always go to."
Diego knew the place well. It was where they had spent countless hours discussing his father's unresolved case, clinging to hope and memories.
"Okay," Diego said. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."
When Diego arrived, Bruce was already seated, stirring a cup of tea. He looked unusually cheerful, almost restless. He stood up immediately when he saw Diego.
"You look exhausted," Bruce said, pulling out a chair. "Have you slept at all?"
Diego shook his head as they sat. "Not really."
They ordered tea, the silence between them heavy.
"My brother," Bruce began gently, "you need to slow down. You're burning yourself out. I told you—we're in this together."
Before Diego could respond, Bruce suddenly placed two brown envelopes on the table with a firm slap.
Diego frowned. "What's this?"
"Stop pretending you don't know," Bruce said calmly.
"What are you talking about?" Diego asked. "What's inside?"
"Open it."
Diego pushed the envelopes back. "No. I can't accept this. You've already done too much."
"And I told you—we're brothers." Bruce pushed them back toward him. "Take it."
"No!" Diego shoved them back harder, the cups rattling. A few customers turned to look.
Bruce leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Do you think your mother cares who pays her bills? She just wants to live."
Diego swallowed hard, his eyes burning.
Bruce softened. "Let me help you carry this burden. You don't have to do it alone."
Diego exhaled shakily. "I'll find another way."
Bruce shook his head. "If you don't, the streets will find you first."
He pushed the envelopes toward Diego one last time and smiled faintly. "Take it before I change my mind."
After a long moment, Diego nodded. He opened the envelopes—one thousand dollars.
Emotion overwhelmed him. He stood and hugged Bruce tightly. "Thank you. I don't even know how to repay you."
"Just stay alive," Bruce replied.
"I need to rush to the hotel to work," Diego said, standing.
Then he hesitated. "Brother… I've been thinking about Isabella."
Bruce's expression darkened. "Who's Isabella?"
"You know who," Diego said quietly.
"That bitch?" Bruce scoffed.
"Watch your words," Diego said. "I still like her. I think… I'm in love with her. But I'm scared. I don't want more trouble."
Bruce leaned back. "You just answered yourself. Stay away from her and trouble will stays away from you. Think of your mother."
Diego nodded slowly. "You're right."
"Not just for now," Bruce added. "Forever."
Diego forced a smile and walked out of the café.
Outside, he raised his face to the sky. "Thank you, Lord," he whispered. "Bless Bruce. May his heart's desires always be fulfilled."
At the hotel, Diego worked nonstop, his body aching. The house rent was due in two days. Between hospital bills and rent, he needed at least another thousand dollars to add to what Bruce gave him.
After his shift, he headed straight to the restaurant for his evening job. By closing time at 11 p.m., exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but he decided to walk home since it wasn't far.
Unbeknownst to him, Isabella's men followed discreetly.
Halfway home, Diego took a shortcut through a dim alley.
Then, a man appeared behind him and pressed a cold blade against his neck. A hand clamped over his mouth.
"Don't scream," a voice hissed. "Give me everything—money and phone."
Diego froze. His heart pounded wildly.
"Not again…" he whispered.
"Don't turn around," the thief warned, pressing the knife harder. "Don't try anything stupid."
The thief took everything—his earnings and Bruce's envelopes.
When the man vanished, Diego screamed.
Isabella's men rushed over. "Are you hurt?"
"They took everything," Diego said, pointing shakily.
They chased after the thief but returned empty-handed.
Diego walked home, devastated.
"Am I cursed?" he muttered. "Why does everything go wrong for me?"
In two days, I have to settle my rent bill and hospital bill for my mother.
"I'll ask for an advance at the restaurant," he decided. "That's my last hope."
That morning, Isabella woke planning how to contact her father's U.S. clients when her phone rang.
"Boss," one of her men said. "Diego was robbed last night."
"What?" she snapped. "Is he okay?"
"Yes. But we didn't catch the thief."
Her jaw tightened. "Useless boys. You guys are incompetent. Get off my phone."
Diego arrived at the restaurant early and approached the manager.
"Sir," he pleaded, "can I get an advance? My mother's in the hospital."
The manager sighed. "Only the owner can approve that. She'll be here this evening."
Diego worked tirelessly, whispering prayers for his request to be granted.
When she finally walked in, he crossed paths with her near the hallway. Their eyes met. She froze for a moment, studying his face. Then, she smiled faintly and walked away.
"What's wrong with that woman?" Diego muttered, unaware she was the owner.
After his shift, the manager approached him. "Diego, the boss is waiting for you in her office."
"Thank you, sir."
Diego knocked.
"Come in."
He froze.
"You?" he blurted.
"Yes," she replied coolly. "Is there a problem?"
"No, ma'am. It's just… earlier. You looked at me as if I'd done something wrong."
"Oh, that." She chuckled. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You're very cute."
Diego blushed. "Thank you, ma'am."
"So," she continued, crossing her legs. "The manager said you wanted to see me."
"Yes, ma'am. I need help. Please — can I have an advance on my salary?"
She tilted her head. "How much?"
"Two thousand dollars."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Two thousand? Do you even realize what you're asking? What if you run away?"
She stood, walked around the desk, and stopped in front of him. Her perfume was heavy, intoxicating.
"I have a better solution," she whispered, leaning close. "Everyone goes home happy."
She brushed her fingers behind his ear and murmured, "Sleep with me. Just one night — and I'll give you five thousand dollars."
Diego stepped back, horrified. "No, ma'am. You're old enough to be my mother. Besides, you're my boss. What will people say?"
Her expression hardened. "Fine. Get out. Go find those 'people' to give you your money."
She opened the door and thrust a business card into his hand. "Call me when you're ready."
"I knew it," the manager said, shaking his head. "She wants something you can't give, right?"
Diego frowned. "How do you know that?"
"Because that's what she does," the manager replied. "Don't give in to her pressure. But if you really need the money, just… be careful. She's known for harassing young guys — especially her workers."
Diego rubbed his face. "How can a beautiful woman like her do that?"
He left the restaurant feeling defeated. His best chance had slipped through his fingers.
"How do I salvage this?" he muttered as he walked the dark streets. "My rent, my studies, my mom's bills…"
He paused. "I hope this woman isn't my last hope. Because if she is, I might fall into temptation."
That evening, Diego went into depression. Now that my mother is getting better, I don't have money to continue paying her bills. Tomorrow, I might be thrown out of my house. I can't even tell Bruce I was robbed, and neither can I call Isabella for help—she has done a lot already.
Diego left the house to an unknown destination. He got fed up that he went up the mountain and felt like ending it all.
Isabella's boys sensed danger and called Isabella.
"Boss Diego is going up the mountain. With the way he is looking, he might harm himself."
"What!
Send me your location now."
The call ended.
"What the hell is he doing on the mountain?
I have to rush before he harms himself."
She grabbed her keys.
"Wait! Where are you running to?" Mateo asked.
"A friend needs my help."
"Are you sure you're okay? You seem worried."
"I'm fine, Dad."
She rushed out with Angel.
Mateo watched her leave but was still suspicious.
He told Ricardo, "Go after them and watch them closely."
"This girl, I just hope I have nothing to worry about her actions these days.
Ricardo tried to catch up but couldn't.
Isabella's car screeched to a stop at the base of the mountain.
"What the hell is this guy doing up there?" she muttered.
She opened the glove compartment, took out a small pistol, and slid it into the waistband of her jeans. "Call the boys to retreat, and you wait here," she said to Angel. Then she climbed toward Diego.
Diego sat on a rock, staring into the void, muttering to himself.
"I just can't take it anymore," he said. "I'm tired. I want to end it all."