Page 12 of Unforgiving Queen
I shot to my feet. “Keep your voice down. Reina doesn’t need this right now.”
Diana Glasgow threw her hands in the air. “How dare you…”
They should have called Romero. He didn’t have the balls that this woman had.
“If you can’t keep your tone in check, you’ll find yourself out of this room,” I said.
She pointed her finger at her granddaughter’s sleeping form. “What are you doing here? And what did you do to Reina?”
“Nothing.”Everything.
God, I was already regretting my choice. It would have been easier if Reina had been moved under the care of a doctor I could control, without anyone else interfering.
Confrontational silence suffocated the air while the constant beep of the machine soothed my irritation. I placed my hand at Diana’s back and ushered her out of the room.
“Tomaso Romero and your family have done enough damage to mine,” Diana hissed once we were in the hallway. I caught a glimpse of something—was that worry lurking in her eyes? “That stops here and now. I want you out of here.”
Fuck, nothing was going to plan. I wanted to stay until Reina woke up.
I needed to see she was fine before I forced myself to move on. Alone.
5
REINA
The sound of a door slamming jostled me from my nightmare. I had to still be sleeping. Everything was dark, and all I felt was… pain.
Excruciating pain.
It was a struggle to breathe. To think. Even letting go seemed to be too much.
The muffled shouts pulled on my consciousness, but I couldn’t fully wake up. Where was I? What was happening to me? Why did everything hurt?
“I don’t want to see you anywhere near her again.” Grandma’s voice. “The connection to you has her fighting for her life now. I blame you for this.”
I opened my mouth to say something—what, I didn’t know—but nothing came out. She had to be talking to Papà. She always blamed him for everything. I tried to shift on the bed so I could draw attention to myself.
But I couldn’t move. It was as if I weighed a ton, and I found myself fighting just to inhale and exhale. My chest ached, and each breath threatened to crack my ribs.
More words were exchanged, but they were hushed. My mind was too fuzzy to distinguish more than fleeting words.
“My granddaughter might die because of you. What you need is irrelevant here.”
Then the silence followed. Dark. Lonely. And so fucking quiet.
The sound of a door opening and footsteps approaching trilled in my ears.
I needed someone to pull me out of this painful haze. I blinked my eyes furiously, willing them to open but failing. The mattress dipped as someone sat by my side.
“Oh, Reina.” My grandmother’s voice cracked and she sniffed. “I failed you too.”
I opened my mouth to assure her I was okay, but the only thing that came out was a wheeze.
The mattress shifted again. “Rest your voice,” she rasped. Something wet dripped onto my hand and it took me a moment to realize what it was.Tears.
The bed creaked. I imagined she was wiping away her face before someone caught her in this vulnerable state.
“You were in an accident, Reina. The doctors are optimistic,” she whispered, her forehead meeting mine gently. “They’re going to take you into surgery soon and then—”
