With a cold gaze that could freeze fire, she stepped forward, her heart racing for reasons beyond the imminent donation.
"You sent that taxi, right?"
She went straight to the point.
Before Lucia could respond, Elisa's hand struck like lightning, a fierce slap echoing in the sterile room, that she screamed loud as she covered her cheeks.
"Aaaah!
That was what Lucia never expected from Elisa, she knew she can intimidate her at any time and go scot—free.
Miguel's eyes sank deep into the shadows of his brow as he confronted the chaos unfurling before him.The hospital room, once a sanctuary of healing, echoed with tension.
"Elisa..! How dare you slap her?" His voice sliced through the air, cold and unyielding.
" I will slap her again and again! If that's what it takes to reset her brain."
The confrontation had escalated far too quickly. Elisa stood frozen for a moment, bewildered by the possession of fear etched across Miguel's face.
"Was he truly afraid for Lucia?" The thought twisted in her mind, giving rise to an unfamiliar strength within her. Lucia, with her porcelain complexion and wide eyes, covered her cheeks as if to shield herself from the world and its judgments.
"I didn't do anything... you misunderstood me!" Lucia's voice trembled with faux innocence.
Her facade was cracking, and she couldn't help but feel the pressure of miguel's fierce gaze darting back and forth between them.
Elisa determined and unwavering, stepped forward.
"This," she said, pulling a photo from her bag and holding it aloft like evidence in a courtroom, "is what you owe me."
The image fluttered in the air between them, capturing a moment of Miguel asleep in the hospital room, the kind of moment meant for intimacy, not exploitation.
The shock struck miguel like a gust of icy wind. His mind raced to process the implications. Lucia's face drained of color, her composure faltering as she grasped the gravity of her deception.
The act she had put on was unraveling in the eyes of a man who had been her stoic defender.
Elisa's voice was icy, her demeanor unyielding.
"You were so concerned about your image, Lucia. But tell me, how does it feel to be the real homewrecker?" Each word was precise, calculated, as she relished the role reversal.
"You managed to use this moment against me. Yet here you are, caught in your own trap."
Miguel's expression darkened as he looked from Elisa to Lucia. The confrontation stirred something in him, but he was tethered by the remnants of compassion.
"Lucia, is this true?" he asked, his brow furrowing deeply.
With tears glistening in her eyes, Lucia clutched at Miguel's sleeve.
"No, Miguel! Elisa is just angry. I've done nothing wrong. She must have found someone to take that picture just to ruin me!" Her power play was desperate، she needed him to believe her.
Miguel frowned. He felt betrayed on all fronts, twisted by the revelations that rose like a tide around him.
But even as he felt that suffocating complexity, he considered Lucia's plea. "If that photo has caused this rift... perhaps we need to think clearly. Let's focus on what's important."
Elisa watched the exchange with dispassion, her stance firm as she held her ground. She had done what she came to do, now she felt liberated, though tattered by the conflict.
"If the truth is so easily buried beneath your protective instincts, Miguel , then what does that say about your love?" Her voice, once soft, now held a bite.
"I'm not here to ruin you, Lucia. I'm here to free myself." These words pierced through the air, causing a rift in their tangled web of lies and truth.
As Lucia visibly sank into the depths of despair, Miguel shifted his focus. "Shouldn't we get you medical help, Lucia?" His tone softened, glancing at the doctor who hesitated nearby.
The doctor, caught between the emotional turmoil and his professional duties, finally spoke up,
"Ms. Fernandez does need a blood transfusion. The fall has exacerbated her condition." His voice was steady, yet he recognized the storm brewing before him.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Miguel instructed, his voice regaining its authoritative edge. The doctor nodded and rushed to prepare.
Lucia stole a glance at Elisa, a smirk of triumph hidden behind her averted gaze.
"See, she might win this round, but I'll come back stronger," she thought, her heart racing with the adrenaline of survival.
But Elisa, unfazed, approached Lucia's bed determinedly. She reached out, yanked the quilt aside, and exposed the fragile frame hidden beneath the layers of fabric.
"Let's see exactly who is still playing games here." She whispered.
The sudden reveal sent shock waves through the room. Lucia gasped, embarrassment etching her features as she realized her ruse had been exposed to its fullest.
Miguel could hardly breath. "What are you doing, Elisa?" he demanded, though a hint of annoyance flickered in his eyes. The confrontation had escalated beyond what he had anticipated
Lucia's composure was collapsing, her final reserves drained. "You'll regret this," she hissed, but her words fell flat against the overwhelming authenticity of the confrontations .
Elisa didn't care for the slightest whether Lucia was embarrassed or not.
She looked at Lucia's grazed bandage on her right leg, and ripped it off, dispite Lucia's struggle,
In a blink of and eye the whole ward seemed to freeze, and the world spinning.
Leaning closer, she whispered to Lucia .
" Let the sleeping dog lie... But it's too late you've woken it!"
Slowly she stood up, slightly smiled and released lucia's leg,
Lucia felt embarrassed that she couldn't raise her head up to look at Miguel's face.