Page 16 of Wicked King

Jia

The howling sirens echoing through the inside of the ambulance only intensify the pounding in my skull, but I squeeze a smile out nonetheless and lower the oxygen mask. I try to sit up straighter on the stretcher, but my lungs heave from the effort. “I’m fine, Yéye, I promise.”

My grandfather watches me intently, the mask of calm broken and shattered into a million pieces.

A male paramedic squeezes within the tight confines of the back of the truck and checks the beeping monitor over my head before he drops his gaze to mine. “You should keep that oxygen in place for a few more minutes, at least. You inhaled a lot of that smoke.”

A rebuttal perches on my lips, but I swallow it down when I see the worry in my grandfather’s dark eyes. So instead, I pull the mask over my mouth once again, and take long, full breaths.

A nasty pungent scent fills my nostrils, the toxic smoke clinging to my clothes. But beneath it, a more pleasant fragrance lingers. Bergamot and cedarwood, if I’m not mistaken. Nanay always said I had a nose for perfumes, like a scent hound. The hint of a smile tugs at my lips at her memory before the unceasing beeping jerks me to the present, and the sweet recollection is immediately eclipsed by anger.

I’m embarrassed and pissed off more than anything. When the glass shattered in my boutique, I’d caught a glimpse of the fleeing men in navy before the space was consumed in smoke. The organization Yéye had created all those years ago is making a statement. If I didn’t bend to Lei’s will, I’d be eliminated. The message couldn’t be any clearer. I should be afraid after Jianjun’s menacing words about succession within the Triad, but instead, all it’s done is fuel the rage.

That asshole Lei Wang thinks he can intimidate me into submission. Well, he’s grossly underestimated me. Not only will I attend the Triad Council meeting, but I will also vote against his petition to rule. With Yéye at my side, surely I’ll have the necessary votes to overrule the traitor.

And then what? My father’s voice haunts the dark recesses of my mind. You will rule by yourself?

It’s the last thing I want, but perhaps, Yéye is right, and there are times in life when you must take on responsibilities you don’t particularly desire.

The paramedic reappears in the back of the truck, checks the monitors again and heaves out a frustrated sigh. “I still think you should be seen at the hospital before we release you.”

I pull the oxygen mask down as I shake my head. “I’m fine, really.”

“Your oxygen level is back to normal, so I can’t force you to go, but I’d still recommend it, especially since you were unconscious.” The man eyes my grandfather.

“If my granddaughter says she’s fine, then she’s fine.”

The paramedic shrugs and begins to detach the array of wires and tubes. “If you have any shortness of breath or headaches, you should go to the emergency room right away.”

“Will do.” I give the man a smile as I sit up.

“And the police are waiting outside for your statement.”

I groan internally as Yéye’s wary eyes meet mine. As soon as the paramedic jumps out of the back, my grandpa barks out a command in Mandarin.

Tell them nothing.

My language skills might have been rusty, but that much I understood. Nodding, I slide off the stretcher, and Yéye helps me out the back. An NYPD squad car is parked behind the ambulance, and a detective leans against the hood of the vehicle.

He’s a young guy, early thirties, at most, with sharp eyes and a decent smile. He steps forward and offers a hand. “Ms. Guo?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Detective Jackson, and I’m going to need you to answer some questions.”

“Must she do so right now?” Yéye grumbles. “My granddaughter has been through a terrible ordeal.”

“I understand that, and I’m sorry, but the sooner we get this over with, the more quickly we can find the men who did this.”

Poor guy has no idea that that’s the problem.

After we finish the grueling line of questioning and file the report with the NYPD, I’m utterly exhausted. Still, as I sit with my grandpa in my small studio sipping tea, I can’t help but think back on the detective’s questions and my grandfather’s blatant lie.

Placing my cup down on the table, I glance up at Yéye. “Why did you tell the police you were in the boutique with me when it happened?”

According to the statement he gave the detective, he said he’d walked out for a minute and returned to find me unconscious. When in reality, I’d snuck out of my apartment long before he’d woken, and I’d been alone in the boutique at the time of the attack. I was lucky he’d heard the commotion and come down to save me.

His silver brows furrow, expression turning pensive. “Because I was not the one who carried you out of the building, baobèi.”

---