Page 19 of Unforgiving Queen
“Reina.” Papà’s voice was low, soft. Almost as if he thought a raised tone could destroy me.
If only.
Slipping the necklace under my shirt, I turned to see him shifting toward the empty chair.
He sat down, his movements almost robotic. His usually immaculate hair was messed up and his jaw was set tight. His eyes were hollow, exhausted—more so than ever—and I guessed it wasn’t just about his criminal dealings. He’d aged a lot in the last few months.
Pots and silverware clanked, chatter and laughter soaked the air, and the sounds of footsteps and the triplets’ toys made up the ordinary soundtrack of Thanksgiving. But nothing felt the same, becauseIwasn’t the same.
“Reina.” I blinked and found him staring at me.
“Sorry, Papà,” I muttered. “I was lost in thought.”
He watched me with a patience I wasn’t accustomed to from him. Not since Mamma died.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
I shrugged. “A car accident.”
A distant look crossed his features. “But there’s something more, isn’t there?”
The way he watched me, I feared maybe the doctor had broken the rules of doctor/patient confidentiality and told him, but that would have likely made him furious. I wrapped my arms around myself, the cold creeping into my heart.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s been too much,” he said, pursing his lips. “Ever since your mamma died—”
His voice cracked, just as it always did when he talked about her. “I’m okay,” I lied. Maybe if I said it over and over again, eventually I would be. “Don’t worry. The bruises are almost gone and soon the cast will be off too.”
My heart ached, but I didn’t think there was a cure for that.
“Your professors contacted me,” he continued, and I knew what was coming. “You’ve missed a lot of classes this semester.” That was an understatement. I’d been so heartsick, I could barely get out of bed. The accident didn’t exactly help. “I talked to your professors. They’ll let you catch up on assignments, even let you do them from home while you recover. You’ll stay with Grandma until after the holidays and then return to Paris.”
I was grateful for the support of my family and friends, but I needed time. Space. I couldn’t breathe—not in Paris, not here.
“Couldn’t I go back to Malibu?” I asked, twisting my fingers.
“No. It’s too dangerous.”
I sighed and dropped my shoulders. “Okay. You convince Grandma to let me stay in the opposite wing though, away from everyone else.” It was as close to getting some space as I would get. He stared at me with concern scrawled all over his face. His skin tone was yellowish, his cheeks gaunt. “Papà, are you feeling okay?”
He reached out his big, wrinkly hand and cupped my cheek softly. “You look so much like your mamma.” Then he shocked me by leaning over and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Just focus on healing. For me and your sister. Once you’re feeling better, you and I have to talk.”
It didn’t escape me that he didn’t answer my question. Not. At. All.
8
REINA
My sister and friends all crowded around my bed.
Thank God these medieval rooms were spacious, otherwise I’d suffer from lack of oxygen.
“Well, dinner was uneventful,” Athena started.
“Did you expect drama?” Isla mocked while signing, her eyes connecting with Phoenix for a brief second before flickering to me. “Besides, that hottie Alexander would have murdered anyone who upset his wife or children.”
“He’s protective,” I muttered. “It’s how it’s supposed to be.”
