Page 113 of The Reluctant Wife

"It was the compromised member of your team who searched her room?" I make a guess.

Tyler nods, his eyes troubled. "In it, she talks about being jealous of the fact that you were a princess, and she wasn’t. That she didn’t think you deserved it. She wanted to find a way to scare you."

"Hence, the note on my pillow in the hotel room?" Which makes sense. She was one of the people who had access to my room.”

"Turns out, she had something of a crush on Gavin, and when you broke up with him, she approached him."

“She did?" I ask surprised. Then, I remember her messaging him on our trip from the safehouse. Not to mention, I caught the way she looked at Gavin a couple of times, but I dismissed it as my imagination.

"We picked up Gavin for questioning." Tyler bares his teeth.

"That could not have gone down well with his family," I mutter.

Tyler scoffs. "The Davenports have more money and are more powerful than his family, and given he confessed to forming an alliance with Veronica to get revenge on you for dropping him, I don’t think we have to worry about their feelings."

“We screened him earlier but couldn’t find anything suspicious in his past,” Quentin says grimly. “Nevertheless, we should have anticipated he’d act on the threats, he made against you. I take responsibility for the fact we weren’t able to stop him before he teamed up with Veronica.”

“You’re not the only one who was taken in by them. They had us all fooled.” My head feels like it’s spinning. First, Veronica; now, Gavin. I shake my head. "Ohmigosh! That’s how she got access to the money and the firepower to blow up the boats and the guns!" It almost cost my husband his life, and that of hisbrothers. The implications make me lightheaded. I take another sip of water and try to compose myself.

Tyler eyes my features. "You alright? We can always talk about this later."

"No." I shake my head. "Let’s do it now. If not, I’m just going to fret about him. This way, it takes my mind off of him being in surgery.”

Tyler nods; not that the concern on his face eases. "She has no history of erratic behavior. Nothing out of the ordinary to flag suspicion." He shuffles his feet. "Which is no excuse. We should have been more thorough in tracking her movements."

"Considering she was my assistant and had the highest clearance, you’re not the only one who failed to spot something amiss with her.”

“That’s no excuse.” Tyler frowns. “We should have stopped her, but we didn’t. I’m sorry for what happened.”

“Both of you took time out of your lives to help with the security arrangements at the wedding. I have no doubt, that’s why the ceremony went off without a hitch. You put your lives at risk to guard the island. You were there in time to take him to the hospital. You didn’t fail.” I look between the men. Their expressions are serious. Both look exhausted, with dark circles under their eyes. "Thank you for taking the time to see this through. Thank you for being there for him… For us." My throat closes. A choking feeling squeezes my chest. I blink away the burning sensation threatening to overwhelm me.

"Hey"—Quentin eyes me with concern—"it’s going to be okay. Ryot’s a stubborn bastard. He’s going to pull through."

The door to the waiting room opens, and a doctor in scrubs steps in. I rise to my feet, as does Tyler. The doctor's features are serious.

I swallow down the bile which coats my tongue and, ignoring my trembling limbs, I walk toward him.

The doc hands me his dog tags.

My stomach bottoms out. Oh no.No, no. no.

55

Aurelia

I walk into the hospital room. The scent of antiseptic sinks into my blood and whips my already churning guts into a heaving mass which boils up my gullet. I tamp down on the turbulent feeling, telling myself I need to stay strong. I approach the bed where he’s hooked to various machines.

The intermittent beeping echoes the thundering of my heart. A pulse oximeter is attached to his finger, and a cannula delivering oxygen is strapped to his nose. His arms are at his sides, and he looks pale under his tan. I can make out the bandages on his chest which peek out from under the neck of his hospital gown. It’s the sight of that which has tears squeeze out of the corners of my eyes. I swore I wouldn’t cry when I saw him, but I can’t stop myself. I stand next to the bed and take his palm between mine.

His eyelids flutter open, and he smiles. "Empress." His voice is raw, and his eyes show echoes of the pain he must have experienced when the bullet hit him.

Again, my eyes are drawn to the bandage on the left side of his chest, and I begin to tremble. So close. He could have been killed. A centimeter one way or the other, and he might not have made it.

"Your husband is very lucky,"the doctor had said in a grave tone."The operation was successful. The bullet hit him an inch below his heart. It made a clean exit, and it missed any vital organs. He did lose a lot of blood, so he’s weak. But he should make a full recovery."

I sink down in the chair next to the bed, lower my head, and kiss his hand. "Ryot, baby—" I want to say so much, but the words get stuck in my throat.

The sense of relief that he’s going to be fine is still sinking in. The vestiges of the anxiety, the helplessness, the sheer powerlessness I felt when I watched the medics trying to revive him on the way to the hospital, and then the wait as they operated on him, still clings to me. "I’m so glad you’re okay." I clear my throat.

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