Page 63 of Wanted
“Are you going to tell him, or do I get the honors?” Fylox asked. His gaze was directed at me. “I know you’re close to telling him. Just do it.”
WESTON
Mandy didn’t cry when the doctor stepped outside to give us some privacy. We sat by a clean desk in a messy office filled with unopened boxes. I moved heaven on earth to get her here. I dragged all of these doctors here, too. The blond woman with the pixie cut hair that had just walked out of these messy four walls hadn’t had time to unpack. She’d arrived only a day ago. We’d brought her here from Sweden.
“What do you want to do?” I asked Mandy tentatively.
The doctor, Ms. Bengtsson, had talked us through the procedure. Back in Indianapolis, Mandy had undergone multiple scans. Alexander Winter’s people were thorough. Ms. Bengtsson was Katantia’s new resident gynecologic oncologist. She’d looked at the tests’ results that Mandy had been through in the past weeks, and she suggested that we take a minute to think about our options. Her options. She’d emphasized that they were Mandy’s options.
“I don’t understand,” Mandy blurted out, rubbing her eyes. “In September, Kamila’s doctor screened me.”
“Which doctor?”
“A mute woman. They never told me her name,” Mandy responded. She swallowed. “Why didn’t she tell me? This fibroid must have been there at the time I was screened.”
“I’m guessing Aram pays that woman whoever she is,” I told Mandy. I’d have to look into that doctor, kick her out of my country if need be. A sudden flare of anger teased the cells of my body. “Do you want to do the surgery?”
“Oh, now, you ask me what I want?” she snapped at me. I wasn’t afraid of a lot in this life; my father, another family member’s death. Her sunken red eyes were added to that list. She didn’t want to eat. She didn’t sleep. “You know what I want? I want my father to die a slow and painful death. I want Manuel to rot in hell. I want you to leave me alone. I want to go back to the States, grab a steering wheel, and drive off into the desert. Alone, so that I can die in peace without anybody ruling over me like they own me. That’s what I want.”
“I don’t own you,” I reminded her. “You made sure I’m aware of that.”
She gestured around us. “This entire charade screams ownership. I was fine in Indianapolis. Kamila was there. Alex and…”
“Who? Did you meet someone?” I asked, pathetic and urgent.
She squinted her eyes at me. “Unbelievable. No, I didn’t meet anyone. I’m just not supposed to talk to you about certain things.”
Mandy stretched her neck. Then she glared at me. “If you need to be in the hospital, do that. I don’t want you near me, though.”
“You don’t have anyone to support you. Let me help…”
“You’ve helped enough. I had people in Indianapolis,” she responded sharply. “Grant me that wish. I want to be alone right now. I’ve always been alone. I’ll be alone now, too.”
She added, “And thank you. Obviously, you want a thank you. Perhaps you want me to get on my knees and show my gratitude. Maybe you want a pity fuck, too?” She scoffed. “Who knows, after my surgery, when I’ll be all doped up, and in pain, you can come and have your way with me. You won’t even need a condom. Glorious, isn’t it?”
“Mandy, I…”
She interrupted me, “Just go.”
♥♠♥
When Mandy said she wanted to be alone, she meant it. She didn’t allow anyone to visit her in the days that led up to her surgery. She didn’t grant us permission to visit her afterward, either. Valentina and Aris had been made aware of Mandy’s situation and its severity. They’d come to see her, but she told the doctors and nurses to refuse all entry.
They obeyed. Doctors walked a thin line in my country. They carried an inevitable frustration when dealing with us royals. The ones in the private hospital might have been the only ones that didn’t follow royal orders.
I left my work at the palace, and I spent every day wandering the new east wing. Construction workers were speedily progressing the vision of the Queen I hospital’s architect and mine. In a couple of months, this project would unfold all of its prestige to the Katantian public, just in time for Katantia’s seventieth anniversary.
The doctors didn’t provide me with updates on Mandy’s health as often as I’d wanted them to. They knew that I wouldn’t fire them, so they obeyed when Mandy told them to keep quiet. I’d taken her choice away when I brought her here, but I’d only done it to help her out.
With a coffee in hand that one of the royal-loving nurses had provided me with, I sat in the empty waiting room. There was a television in here. One I hadn’t authorized. The bill would pop up on the stack on my desk at the palace. It had been brought here to keep me company. It didn’t help. My sister was once again off the grid. Her boyfriend showed up on sports channels, annoying the fuck out of me with that attitude he carried around. His genuine face bothered me. His eloquent speech troubled me. His success bothered me. Everything about him irritated me—most of all, the fact that he had my sister.
I was upset that my sister had found safety somewhere else because I’d failed her.
“Mr. Wraith?” a gruff male voice addressed me. His hostility towards me was evident in his choice of words. Mr. Wraith? I wasn’t Mr. Wraith. Citizens of Katantia addressed me as Weston or Your Highness.
I raised my eyebrows, exhaling. “Are there any news?”
“She can be taken home. Ms. Bengtsson has requested multiple check-ins for the next two months, though. We’ve compiled a file for you to read through. You’ll find the appointments, medications, and other information in it,” the man told me. “If you have sexual intercourse with her right now, you’re increasing the chances of her getting an infection. Therefore, I strongly urge you to refrain from that.”
