The Ruthless Mafia Boss Ignored His Ex Wife’s Calls — Not Knowing It Was His Baby’s Last Goodbye

The heavy double doors of the operating theater remained closed, glowing with a harsh red light that signaled ongoing surgery. Wade stood directly in front of them, his presence an immovable wall of dark authority, refusing to let Audrey stand alone.

Thirty agonizing minutes passed before the doors finally swung open.

A surgeon stepped out, wearing blood-spattered scrubs and pulling down a surgical mask. He looked exhausted, rubbing his forehead as he approached Audrey. When he noticed Wade and the menacing guards flanking the hallway, the doctor hesitated.

“Dr. Evans, please,” Audrey begged, stepping forward and grabbing the doctor’s arm. “Is my baby alive? Tell me Leo is alive.”

“He is alive, Ms. Hail,” Dr. Evans said, offering a tight, grim smile. “We managed to stabilize his heart rate and put him on a bypass machine. But the situation is critical.”

Wade stepped up, towering over the surgeon. “Explain it to me. Now.”

Dr. Evans swallowed hard, intimidated by the sheer power radiating from Wade. “Your son suffers from a severe congenital heart defect. We’ve known about it since birth, but tonight, his left ventricle completely failed. The bypass machine is doing the work for his heart right now, but it’s only a temporary measure. He cannot survive on the machine for more than forty-eight hours.”

“Then fix it,” Wade demanded, his voice dangerously low. “Do whatever surgery is required. I have unlimited funds. I will buy you any equipment you need.”

“Mr. Mercer, it’s not about money,” the doctor sighed, looking deeply sympathetic. “His heart is too damaged to repair. Leo needs a transplant. Immediately. And infant hearts are incredibly rare. We have him on the national registry, but the chances of a match arriving within forty-eight hours are practically zero.”

Audrey collapsed against Wade’s chest, a devastating sob ripping from her throat.

Wade held her tight, his mind racing through every dark, illicit connection he possessed in the underworld. The national registry played by the rules. Wade Mercer did not.

“You keep my son alive on that machine, Doctor,” Wade ordered, his gray eyes turning entirely black. “Do not let him die. I will find a heart.”