CHAPTER 122: DID SHE... DIE?

Mr. Stolov stormed into the office. Fernando immediately rose to his feet. "Dad."

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

"Sasha." He questioned, "Where the heck is she?"

"How would I know?" Fernando held a frown. "You barged in asking like I had something to do with her disappearance."

Mr. Stolov’s balled his hands by his sides. "Fernando, I’m not going to ask twice. Where is she? So many models have quit, because of you. I don’t doubt she’s gone because of you. So where the hell is she?"

Fernando ran his fingers through his hair.

"Why are you so worried about her?"

"Meaning what?"

"Why do you care so much? Wait..." He smirked. "Is she your mistress or something?"

Mr. Stolov’s face twisted in disgust. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?"

"Why else are you so worked up?"

"You don’t know what the fuck you’re spitting out. What in the world would I do with her?"

"Then who cares if she’s gone? She’s not the only model who’s left this agency. Why is she the only one that has you barging in here, shouting at me like—"

Mr. Stolov smacked him hard across the face, silence following right after. His shoulders were rising and falling in heavy breathing, Pointing at him, he warned, "If anything happenes to that girl, if I find out you’re the reason she’s missing, fuck Fernando, you will not like me."

He turned and stormed out of the office. He stalked his way downstairs and as he left the company, he fished out his phone, dialling a number.

"Have you found the girl?"

[No, sir]

"What are you doing? I want her found. If anything happens to her, how will I deal with myself? I can’t let that bastard father of hers find out about her. I’ve got to protect that girl, alright? Her mother is dead and the last thing she wanted was that man ever finding out she survived with that girl."

[Yes sir. Please give me a little more time. I’ll find her]

"Good."

Mr. Stolov hung up the phone. "Damn it! Please stay safe wherever you are."

———-

"Is she getting any better?" a man asked, worry evident in his gray eyes.

The nurse, Chelly, nodded at him. "She is. Her loss of memory is no longer constant. It’s been a while now since it happened, so it’s a huge improvement. We’re hoping that eventually, she gets better entirely."

He nodded. "That’s great news. Thank you. Can I see her?"

"Of course." Chelly urged. Viviana knew this man visited her mother consistently and she had never given any order to have his visits stopped. If anything, she gave full permission to allow him if he wanted to.

The man smiled. He turned and left, making his way to the ward Roselia was admitted into.

First, he stood at the window for a few minutes, just staring at her where she laid on the bed. Then he eventually made up his mind to finally get close to her. He opened the door, stepped inside and was reluctant for a few moments before he finally made up his mind to see her.

He approached, but when he was much closer, he found that she was fast asleep, the black strands of her hair stuck in her face.

His eyes flickered.

His throat worked in a thick swallow. Without saying a word, he sat at the edge of the bed and could only stare at her face, unable to mouth even a sentence.

Was was he even to say?

This was his fault to begin with. She was in this situation because of him. Her parents already didn’t like him then, and he just had to be gone for so long that they ended up convincing her to marry another man.

He often wondered what she must have thought.

That he didn’t love her?

That he abandoned her? But that wasn’t true. He never did such a thing. All those while, all he’d been thinking was how he could explain himself—to make her understand, but then...he found out she had married...

Amadeo Di-grassi.

Yet he couldn’t blame her. What was there to blame? It was his fault to begin with. A man who loved a woman, gave every effort possible not to lose her. Him? He didn’t give enough. He knew that if he had, he never would have lost her. She wouldn’t be in this situation.

Running his fingers through his blonde hair, he clenched his fists for a few moments before sitting up straight. He glanced at her, hesitantly reached out his hand, and brushed at her forehead, the strands falling off.

"Rosi..." he muttered.

And as if she heard him, Roselia blinked her eyes apart. Those hazels pupils fixed on him. Neither of them said a word for a moment. She was just gazing at him. And he was frozen, unsure whether to take a step back or sit where he was.

Did she remember him? He wondered.

"It’s you," Roselia mumbled. "You came again," with that being said, she pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed, palms pressed against the bed.

Her pale lips curled into a smile. "What did you bring today?"

"Huh...?" The man blinked at her, a bit taken aback.

"You bring me things, don’t you?" she asked. "Books, flowers? There is none today. Why?"

"You care for them?"

"Heh? Why wouldn’t I?" A soft laugh fell from her. "You finally decided to talk to me."

He flickered his eyes, tongue tied and not knowing what exactly to say to her. From her few words, he could tell today wasn’t a great day. She didn’t have her memories.

"What is your name?"

The question had him turning his head. "My name?"

"Yes. You don’t have one?"

"I do."

"Then what is your name? Or you don’t want to tell me?" She tilted her head. "Why? Do you plan to kidnap me out of this hospital?"

The words had him blurting out a laugh.

"Why would I do such a thing? This is where you get better."

"Then what is your name?"

"Daichi Damiani," he finally said, holding a little smile.

"Daichi..." Roselia mumbled the name thoughtfully. "It sounds familiar, like I’ve heard it somewhere before." But then she shook her head, reaching out for a handshake. "My name is Roselia. Roselia..."

"Roselia who?"

"I don’t..." She slowly shook her head. "I don’t remember."

"Is that how it is... I see."

Daichi nodded his head. "Do you enjoy chocolate?"

"Yes. Why?"

He fished for something out of the waist pocket of his suit and took out a small box of chocolate. "Here you go."

Roselia lifted a brow. "Ah. So you did bring something." She couldn’t stifle the smile that dragged at her lips as she reached out taking it. She unboxed it, took a bite, her face going soft with sweetness.

Daichi just sat staring at her, not saying a word.

"Oh, I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"Aren’t you married? Is your wife in this hospital? Is that why you come here everyday? And if so, isn’t that ba—"

"I’m not married."

"Huh?"

Her eyes bulged. How could he not be married? While he was of course an exceptionally handsome man, Daichi should be at most his youngest, forty six. How could he not be married? Or could he—

"I had a woman I loved. I lost her. I had no need to get married anymore," Daichi said. "She was all I wanted. Nothing more."

Oh...

Roselia’s eyes flickered. "I’m sorry. Did she...die?"

"No."

"Then what’s wrong?"

"She ended up in a horrible situation I may never be able to salvage because of me. I hurt the woman I loved."

Roselia’s eyes flickered. "You must have loved her quite dearly."

He looked at her. Parted his lips, but no words came out.