Chapter 8: Do You Care About Me?

• “Miracle?” Mateo moved his face down, looking at her lying beneath him. He froze, surprised to see her eyes closed. Frantically, he patted her cheek lightly, but she remained unconscious.
• His gaze then fell to her head, where blood began to drip. Panic surged through him as he saw it trickling down. Mateo immediately pressed his hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.
• “Miracle, wake up!” he urged again, but her face remained pale, and her eyes stayed shut.
• Orina, witnessing the scene, rushed over, faint with worry. “Mateo, what’s wrong with Miracle?” she asked anxiously.
• “She’s hurt! Get the maid to call a doctor!” Mateo commanded, rising to his feet. He scooped Miracle up in his arms, carrying her bridal-style to the room. Orina, panic etched across her face, immediately instructed the maid to summon a doctor.
• Once in the room, Mateo gently laid Miracle on the bed. He asked the maid to bring a towel to stem the bleeding from her head. His face remained flat and cold, but his eyes betrayed a deep worry for Miracle, who had yet to regain consciousness.
• Soon after, Orina returned with the doctor. Mateo stepped aside as the doctor examined Miracle.
• “Mateo, Miracle will be okay, right?” Orina asked frantically, her gaze locked on Miracle.
• “She’ll be fine,” Mateo replied coldly.
• “How is my daughter-in-law?” Orina pressed as the doctor completed the examination.
• “Mrs. Orina, Miracle’s head injury is not severe. She was hurt on impact when she fell from the horse. She also has a minor wound on her ankle. I recommend she get plenty of rest over the next few days to aid her recovery,” the doctor advised.
• Orina smiled with relief. “Thank you, Doctor.”
• “You’re welcome. I’ll take my leave now,” the doctor said, bowing briefly before excusing himself.
• “Mom, you should go home. I’ll have the driver take you,” Mateo said flatly.
• “But I want to take care of Miracle,” she protested.
• “I can take care of her. You go home—Dad will need you,” Mateo replied, his tone still cold and steady.
• She sighed softly. “Alright… but make sure you keep me updated on Miracle.”
• Mateo gave a brief nod. Orina moved closer to Miracle and kissed her forehead gently before stepping back and leaving. Once the door closed, Mateo sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Miracle’s pale face.
• “You’re so stubborn,” he muttered in a low voice. He reached toward her, but then pulled back. “Don’t ever try to fight me. You’ll never win. You and Selena… you’re very different. I never loved Selena, yet she always obeyed me. She never went against me,” he said, his gaze unwavering.
• As he was about to rise, he felt a soft hand grasp his. Mateo’s sharp eyes widened in surprise, his flat, cold expression giving way to astonishment. Miracle had opened her eyes.
• “You’re awake, aren’t you?” Mateo’s voice was low and cold.
• “I’ve been awake since you compared me to my sister,” she replied, wincing as she held her throbbing head.
• “Take a rest,” Mateo ordered, ignoring her words as he rose from the bed. But again and again, Miracle’s hand held his. She refused to let him leave.
• “You need to rest, Miracle. Stop overthinking,” Mateo reminded her with a warning look.
• “Why did you help me? I mean…why didn’t you let me fall?” Miracle asked, her gaze fixed intently on him. “Do you… care about me now?”
• Mateo pushed Miracle’s hand away from him. “Care? Does my face show that I care about you? We’ve only been married a few days. I don’t want to be blamed by your father if you die,” he replied coldly. Truthfully, Mateo didn’t know why he had helped her. He should have let her fall. Yet, in reality, he had caught her.
• Miracle glared at him, eyes hard. “You think I’d be so easy to kill just because I fell off a horse?”
• “Maybe. Anything can happen. I don’t want your father blaming me for your death,” he retorted. It was the most convenient excuse, though it wasn’t the real reason he had helped her.
• “Why are you such a pain in the ass?!” she growled, struggling to keep her anger in check. If it weren’t for her aching body, she might have actually attacked him.
• “You’d better rest. I’ll ask a maid to help you. Your leg is hurt, too. Don’t move around. For the next few weeks, the maids will take care of you,” Mateo said, ignoring her glare.
• Miracle snorted, cursing her bad luck. Her leg hurt, and now she had to stay home to recover.
• “Get rid of that d*mn horse of yours! I’m going to make you pay for this!” she exclaimed, still seething. Mateo’s horse had caused her fall.
• “You’re the one who didn’t listen! My horse wouldn’t have rebelled if you hadn’t touched it! You must have hit my horse!” Mateo retorted, a probing look in his eyes.
• “I didn’t hit your horse! I just patted her lightly—just once! It’s usually fine to pat her!” she snapped, refusing to accept the blame.
• Mateo exhaled sharply. “Same thing, Miracle! Molly can’t be bullied. She doesn’t like anyone being rough with her! It’s your fault for ignoring my warning!”
• “You come here and duck your head a little closer! I’ll pat and hit your head so you can tell the difference!” Miracle shot back, increasingly annoyed.
• “Talking to you only gives me a headache. You’re sick and still loud!” he exclaimed.
• Miracle clucked in frustration. “I just wanted to teach you the difference between patting and hitting! How can you lead the De Luca Industries if you don’t know the difference?!”
• Mateo growled, jaw tightening. He swore silently to himself. If this woman stayed awake, she would never be quiet. Wordlessly, he turned and walked away.
• “Hey, Mateo! What the hell are you doing, leaving me? You know my leg still hurts!” Miracle shouted, but it didn’t stop him from walking away.
• She snorted in annoyance, glaring at him. That man was infuriating. Her gaze then fell on a maid who had just approached.
• “Mrs. Miracle,” the maid greeted politely.
• “What brings you here?” she asked coldly.
• “Ma’am, I was asked by Mr. Mateo to look after you at all times until you recover your health,” the maid replied.
• “I can take care of myself. I don’t need your help,” Miracle retorted stubbornly.
• “Ma’am, please…let me help you. If you don’t, Mr. Mateo will be very angry with me,” the maid said, her face anxious.
• Miracle chuckled. “Your master is such a monster. Why does he get angry so easily? What exactly does he eat every day?”
• The maid bowed, a small smile tugging at her lips.
• Miracle let out a rough breath, looking at the maid with a mix of pity and amusement. “Fine! You can help me. Now, sit down—aren’t you tired of standing like that?” she asked, still annoyed. She couldn’t bear to watch the maid face Mateo’s wrath all by herself.
• “Thank you, ma’am,” the maid replied, bowing again.