One Night Mistake… Now I Carry the Mafia Heir

Chapter 63: 63/The Unfit Father

Chapter 63

Cedric’s Point of View

In those poisonous moments, I saw nothing but the blackness of my own heart. I wanted to shatter her pride as she had shattered my soul. I wanted her to taste the bitterness of the torment and jealousy that gnaws at my insides day and night as I imagined her in my brother’s arms, giving him what I thought belonged to me alone.

I was relishing my cruel words, watching their painful impact on her face... but in a single second, all that false arrogance evaporated. My savage rage melted into pure horror as I saw her eyes close and her body suddenly drop to the floor like a delicate branch snapped by a treacherous storm.

The blood froze in my veins. I knelt beside her, paralyzed by a panic that gripped my heart and cut off my breath. My hands shook hysterically as I reached for her. "Stephanie! Stephanie, answer me! Can you hear me?" I started shaking her shoulders.

But she didn’t open her eyes. She was completely still, as pale as death, until I feared her soul had left the room.

I didn’t hesitate; I scooped her up in my arms. Her frail body went limp in my grasp as if she had no bones. I laid her on the bed with a gentleness and caution I hadn’t felt in a long time, as if I were handling a piece of crystal I feared my hands would break.

I couldn’t stand the dead silence, so I ran into the hallway and began to shout like a madman, my voice echoing through the desolate halls of the palace: "Someone help! Call the doctor now! Immediately!"

I was standing at the bedroom door, my chest heaving with ragged breaths, when I spotted my grandfather coming from the end of the hall with a speed I hadn’t seen from him in years. Anxiety clouded his stern face, his hawk-like eyes scanning my troubled features. He stopped in front of me and asked with a sharpness that shook my core: "What happened here? Why are you screaming like this?"

I swallowed hard and answered in a broken voice, my eyes darting back and forth, unable to look him in the face: "Stephanie... she lost consciousness suddenly, Grandfather. She fell right in front of me and isn’t moving."

My grandfather didn’t waste a second. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called the family doctor, giving firm, strict orders to come immediately without delay. Then he walked into the room, his eyes falling on the still figure of Stephanie on the bed, looking like a body without a soul. He was silent for a moment, then turned to me with a piercing gaze a look that made me feel small, like a child caught in a crime. "How did she lose consciousness so easily? What passed between you two?"

I stood there frozen, feeling as if my tongue were tied. I couldn’t answer; I feared my tone would betray me. He asked again, his voice growing harsher and more stern: "Cedric, I am asking you clearly... does this collapse have anything to do with you or your reckless behavior?"

I lowered my head, trying to defend myself in a faint voice: "Grandfather... I... I was only talking to her. I didn’t know she would be affected like this."

At that moment, he shouted at me with suppressed rage: "I am fed up with you, Cedric! I am sick of your impulsiveness and your endless recklessness! When will you learn to take responsibility for your actions?"

I bowed my head lower, feeling a bitterness and acidity in my throat that prevented me from speaking. I found nothing to say but a weak whisper: "Grandfather, I truly didn’t mean for it to end like this, I swear to you."

My grandfather gave me a long look, full of disappointment and regret. Then he spoke words that were heavier on my soul than any slap I had ever received words that I felt branded my forehead with failure forever:

"You are not fit to be a father, Cedric... never."

I didn’t know how to respond to my grandfather’s words; the truth wounded me more than his harsh tone. I felt so small before those bitter, honest words. I had committed an act unworthy of a man, let alone a future father. I had hurt her with my cruel, poisonous words until her soul collapsed before her body, and she fell because of me.

My silence was my only confession of my unforgivable guilt.

Doctor Maurice arrived in a hurry, and my grandfather ushered him into the room immediately. The doctor began examining Stephanie with professional calm, while I stood in the corner of the room, rubbing my hands with agonizing tension, my eyes fixed on her pale face.

I couldn’t endure the ominous silence, so I asked him in a shaky voice filled with terror: "Tell me, Doctor... is she okay? Please, remember she’s pregnant too. Is the baby affected?"

The doctor finished his examination, began packing his tools into his bag, and replied in a calm, reassuring tone: "It’s a sharp drop in blood pressure.

That is the primary cause of her fainting, which is quite common in her condition, especially since she is in the early months of pregnancy. There is no real danger to her life or the fetus at the moment. She is fine and will regain consciousness soon."

My grandfather let out a sigh of relief, as if a mountain had been lifted from his chest. "Thank you, Maurice," he said with dignity. "You have put my mind at ease."

The doctor turned to us again and added in a serious, cautionary tone: "But please, you must maintain a completely calm environment around her. Do not allow her to get angry or agitated, and do not let her be exposed to any nervous stress. All of these things are very harmful to the stability of her pregnancy at this sensitive stage."

At that moment, my grandfather turned toward me and shot me a sharp look that was enough to incinerate everything in the room. His eyes were firing arrows at me as he said to the doctor in a deep voice: "Understood, Maurice. I promise we will not allow anything or anyone to ruin the peace of this house or disturb her tranquility again."

I lowered my head in shame and humiliation; the guilt was gnawing at my heart like a maggot. All this collapse, all this fear, was the work of my own hands and my sharp tongue. The doctor and my grandfather left the room, and I approached the bed with heavy, stumbling steps.

I sat on the edge of the mattress beside her, reaching out my trembling hand to hold her cold hand between my palms. I spoke in a choked voice overcome by remorse:

"Stephanie... I’m sorry. I swear to you, I never wanted your condition to get this bad because of me. I truly don’t know where my mind was, or what I was thinking when I uttered those filthy words... forgive me."