The Paid Men and the Mafia Girls
CHAPTER 82: WHY DID YOU GIVE UP?

Tiger ran up to his daughter, and so did Leon who rushed over. Tiger grabbed Cheryl's phone and put it in her ear.

“What's up? Who's this?” jolt Tiger with a loud voice. Of course surprised the caller across there.

“Ma .. sorry, Sir. I'm a friend of Cheryl's. Wanted to inform her that Dina's mother had died. Now it's in Permata Hospital. I would like to ask Cheryl for help to pass it on to Jourrel.”

Tristan again explained in a trembling voice. He did not want to contact Jourrel directly, afraid that there was nothing with the man. Tristan believes Cheryl is still with Jourrel.

Tiger glanced at his daughter who was crying. He turned off the phone and squatted in front of Cheryl. Tidied up her daughter's hair, slipped it back. “Hey, we're going to the hospital now?” hail Tiger in a slow voice.

“Who is sick?” ask Leon curious.

Tiger glanced at the puzzled-looking Jourrel, yet did not dare to ask. Then raise your head to follow him.

“Jourrel! Follow!” take Tiger.

The owner of the name nodded, then stood up and followed in their footsteps. Really, his chest is pounding right now. He several times cleared his throat to try to calm himself, although the longer it actually felt the tightness of his chest. His breath also felt heavy.

Leon didn't ask any more, he just observed what happened. But keep up with Tiger and Cheryl.

The group arrived at the hospital. The rush of hurried footsteps and echoed in the passageway they passed through.

The aura that emanated from those gallant men, was so strong and alluring, even though their age was ripe. Everyone's attention was on him. Their faces were cold as usual.

Jourrel was sculpting when he saw Tristan sitting in a waiting chair with his head bowed deeply. His eyes moved in an indeterminate direction, trying to stay positive.

“Tan!” call Jourrel while standing in front of the man.

Tristan looked up, his eyes looking red. Even the tears still piled up in both of his nerves.

“What's up?” jourrel asked increasingly riled up and his chest was pounding more and more.

Cheryl was still in Tiger's arms, hiding her beautiful face in his father's chest.

Tristan stretch embrace, stare fixed bead eyes Jourrel, “Lo should be strong, Bray!” he said patting Jourrel's arm.

“Apply? Don't convolve!” peekik Jourrel began to emotion.

Tristan turned around, opening the door of the room not far from him. Standing in the doorway and raising his head, for Jourrel to enter immediately.

Impatiently, Jourrel took a long step through the room. Doctor Gita turned her head, looking at the man who was now getting closer to her.

Jourrel froze when he saw someone lying on the bed with a blanket covering his entire body. His breathing was hunting, his body started trembling.

“Mother, already gone,” whispered Tristan clutching Jourrel's shoulder.

BRUGH!

Both of Jourrel's mouth felt limp, his body decays to the floor. The earth he was walking on seemed to stop spinning. Her tears fell without a sound. Tight, heavy, his mouth shaking unable to say anything.

Tristan helped her up, then swept her up to the bed. Despite the weight of the step, Jourrel dragged his legs until he managed to grip the edge of the bed. Tristan nods at Gita to open the blanket and shows Dina's face.

Both of Jourrel's hands trembled violently, trying to reach his mother's already pale face. His eyes were tightly closed. Jourrel moves his fingers very slowly, down the surface of the mother's face that feels very cold.

“I've fought so far for mom. But why did you give up?” lirih Jourrel whose throat was suffocating. His head bowed deeply, his shoulders trembled violently and hugged his mother so tightly.

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