Page 45 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

I furrow my brow, trying to process it all. "Bradycardia? But... my heart was racing, wasn’t it? How is that the same thing?"

She gives me a reassuring smile, her voice calm but firm. "Sometimes, when the heart rate slows too much, it can cause the heart to pump less efficiently. Your body tries to compensate, but that’s when you feel the dizziness and the difficulty breathing. It’s your body’s way of saying it’s struggling to get enough oxygen."

I frown, still trying to grasp the situation. "So… what does this mean for me? Am I okay? Will it happen again?"

The nurse hesitates for a moment, her fingers tapping against the edge of the clipboard as she looks at me. "You are okay, for the most part, but you need to come in for regular check-ups. The most important thing right now is rest. Bradycardia can be triggered by many things—stress, physical exertion, even emotional distress. Given what happened earlier, it’s likely that stress was a factor."

"Emotional distress?" I repeat, feeling the weight of her words sink in. "You mean, like... my panic attack?"

She nods. "Exactly. Your heart had to work harder than it should have, and when it couldn’t keep up, it slowed down to compensate. It’s your body’s way of protecting itself, but it can be dangerous if it happens too frequently."

I close my eyes for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. It all feels like too much, too fast. "What can I do? How do I stop it from happening again?"

The nurse leans forward slightly, her eyes meeting mine with a quiet intensity. "For now, you need to take it easy. No stress, no rushing. Just focus on your recovery. We’ll check your heart rate regularly to make sure it’s stable. And if you feel any of those symptoms again, don’t hesitate to let someone know."

I nod, still processing, but a sense of dread settles in my stomach. "And... long-term? Will this be a problem?"

She offers a soft, reassuring smile. "It might not be, but we’ll need to monitor you closely. If this happens again, we’ll take further steps, but for now, I need you to rest and take care of yourself. No stress, okay?"

“What are the next steps?” I ask, aware that I should inform my dad, even though he's currently en route to Alaska. But at eighteen, I feel capable of handling the situation without causing him unnecessary worry.

“You need to rest, Willow,” the nurse says, her tone warm but firm. “You’ve had a rough day, and your body is telling you to slow down. I need you to go home and take it easy. Do you have someone to keep an eye on you?”

Vincent steps in before I can respond. “She’s has people” he states firmly, not even looking at the nurse as he does.

The nurse raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. “Alright, but just make sure she gets proper rest. No pushing her today.” The nurse looks at me. “No pushing yourself, either. Take it easy. I’ll get the paperwork for you to sign.”

As the nurse walks out, Vincent looks down at me, his gaze softening slightly, though there’s still a determination there. “You’re coming with me, Willow. You need to rest. No arguments.”

I want to resist. I want to tell him that I’m fine, that I don’t need anyone hovering over me, but the truth is, I feel exhausted, both physically and mentally. And for the first time in a while, I don’t have the strength to fight it.

“I don’t want to go to your house,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t care what you want,” he says quietly, his tone surprisingly gentle. “You’re going, and you’re going to rest. Per Doctor's orders, Princess.”

13

WILLOW

The Beaumont Estate never fails to leave me in awe, but today, that wonder is eclipsed by the very real fear of my heart deciding to stop for good. Dying right after the absolute dreamboat currently driving me to his mansion confessed his undying devotion—and a four-year crush, no less—would truly be the worst timing imaginable.

My chest tightens, each breath trembling like it’s rattling against broken ribs. The towering gates swing open with their usual grandeur, the meticulous gardens and sprawling architecture coming into view, but I can’t stop dreading the idea of walking up the stairs. It’s as if the mansion’s size has grown even larger just to spite me.

“What’s that look on your face for?” Vincent narrows his eyes on me, his tone laced with playful suspicion.

I twist away, pretending to study the statue of a naked Greek man near the driveway like he’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. Which, to be fair, he isn’t—that honor belongs to the man sitting next to me. “Does your house have to be sofuckingbig?”

Vincent chuckles, his deep laugh resonating through the car like a warm hum. “God, you curse like a sailor.”

“I’m serious, Vincent!” I huff, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. “Your house is too big, and I just got out of the hospital. Now I have to battle your gazillion steps.”

Vincent’s grin widens, and there’s a spark of amusement in his emerald eyes as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Who said you had to walk?”

Before I can process his words, he’s out of the car, rounding it in just a few strides. The passenger door swings open, and before I can protest, Vincent scoops me up like I weigh nothing.

“Vincent!” I squawk, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “Put me down! I can walk.”

He smirks, his lips twitching into that infuriatingly confident smile. “You justsaidwalking would be a battle.”

---