"Oh my god! Why are you in this state, Diego?" Marcella's voice was a sharp intake of breath that pierced the otherwise quiet living room.
She surged to her feet the instant her son stumbled through the doorway, her gaze instantly locking onto his badly bruised face. She then rushed to his side, her features a mask of pure concern.
Adam had just finalized the will on the phone. His brow immediately furrowed into a deep frown. "Call the doctor," he instructed the impassive butler with a curt, urgent nod before pushing himself up from the couch.
Diego, looking utterly defeated, made a beeline for the nearest couch and practically slumped onto it.
"Who did this to you?" Marcella demanded, kneeling beside him, her eyes already glistening and turning watery with distress.
Diego took a ragged breath.
