Page 17 of Fierce Monarch

“It shouldn’t take too long to get to your home. Expect me in twenty minutes.”

The reminder that my home was compromised stung, and I struggled to keep my voice even. “We’re on vacation at the Celestine downtown. I’ll send you the address and a code so the front desk will let you up.”

“Understood.”

Somehow, I had no doubt she really did get it. Grey picked the right doctor. Doc was great, but he was an institution in the Marcosa family. Dr. Grant was new blood we desperately needed. A breath of fresh air that would benefit us greatly in the years to come if we survived the next few months.

I hung up the phone before rapid-firing texts to warn the front desk, as well as Dominic and Greyson, of her arrival. The boys replied back that they were in a meeting with the club managers explaining new protocols the security team came up with, but they’d meet up with her after. Fine by me.

Even though it was unfair to put everything on them, I wasn’t quite ready to have them close when I still felt vulnerable. I needed a little more time to separate them from Nate and his mistakes. If he even thought they were mistakes.

I shut down that line of thinking before I fell down the proverbial rabbit hole.

With nothing to do but wait, I sat by the windows in the living room staring out at the city that I’d nearly lost every part of myself for and wondered. Would there ever be a moment when I would find peace in the view again? When I could look at each building without wondering if that was where Nate was or if he could see me? Would I ever look at the streets without wondering if he was close by? I’d bled into the ground and bound the city and myself together, but would he take that from me too?

The knock on the door startled me from the idea, and I got up before the concern could take root even more.

A look through the peephole showed Dr. Grant patiently sandwiched between Moore and Tennessee. Though it felt impossible, I schooled my face into a relaxed mask and whipped open the door. I didn’t need more of her sympathy or I’d lose it. “That was quick.”

She shrugged casually. “I was in the neighborhood.” I hated that her gaze was gentler than it usually was, but I didn’t feel the need to call her on it.

Knowing the boys had frisked her, I let her inside and waved a hand. “What do you need for this?”

“That table will work.” She pulled out an alcohol wipe to sanitize the cozy four-top in the kitchen, then washed her hands and dug through her bag. “We should be able to get everything done with a blood test. We can do a pelvic exam if you’d like, but I’d prefer that at the office.”

“Let’s wait for the results.” I sat when told to, grateful for the sleeveless top I’d chosen earlier. Dr. Grant was quick and efficient, barely looking at me as she went forward with the blood draw, handing me a stress ball, though she raised an eyebrow when I white-knuckled it.

“Who aren’t we testing?” she asked softly, and I knew what she was asking.

“Nate.” Christ. Just saying his name felt like razor blades in my throat.

“Is he dead or?—”

“An Ace.”

Her eyes widened with shock, but she quickly schooled her face into the disinterested mask she normally wore. “And the others?”

“Alive, but angry.”

“I can imagine you all are.”

When I said nothing, she hummed to herself, sliding the needle into my arm and clicking the vial in when it was time. I watched my blood fill it up, transfixed by the sight of it.

Something so innocuous, barely thicker than water, was the thing that kept our hearts beating, our brains functioning, and our bodies moving. It was so powerful. What would it be like to hold that much power?

What would it be like to hold that much potential?

The snap of the rubber strap falling off my arm pulled my attention back, only to find Dr. Grant’s head tilted in question.

Shit. “Sorry, what did you say?”

She smiled again, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from screaming at her. “I asked if there was a chance of pregnancy.”

God, no. “I have the implant.” Showing her my arm took seconds, but a brief hesitation crossed her face, a moment of discomfort that stole my breath.

Dr. Grant steeled her shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. “With the reason I’m here, the likelihood of tampering is high. I suggest we do a pregnancy test as well.”

I was a woman who ran an empire, the queen in a traditionally king’s world. I’d seen and done some awful shit, but the idea of someone impregnating me against my will was apparently the final straw. Dr. Grant passed me the closest trash can as I threw up everything I’d ever eaten.

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