Chapter 3

Reina/Ina

My stomach growled rather loudly.

After everything I'd been through—the long run through the forest and all the blood I'd lost—my body had finally decided to complain about being hungry.

Heat rushed to my face.

God, this was embarrassing.

Dr. Zachary paused for a moment before letting out a quiet laugh. His white teeth showed as he shook his head, still smiling.

"Well, looks like your digestive system is doing just fine, Ina. That's normal. You haven't had anything in your stomach for days."

He placed his clipboard at the foot of my bed.

"Give me a minute. I'll get you some warm soup from the cafeteria. You can't have anything too heavy yet since you just woke up, so soup will do for now. It'll help warm you up, too."

He left the room and returned a few minutes later with a bowl of hot soup and a glass of water. The smell alone was enough to make my stomach growl again.

He pulled the small bedside table closer and carefully set the food on it. Then he looked at me, followed by my right hand with the IV attached and my injured shoulder.

He must have realized I wouldn't be able to manage on my own.

"Let me help you," he said, pulling his chair closer to the bed.

He picked up the spoon, ready to feed me, but stopped when he noticed me leaning back slightly and glancing at his hand. I probably looked more hesitant than I intended.

He paused, then gave me a gentle smile.

"Don't worry. There's no poison in it," he joked.

His expression softened right after.

"But if you're not comfortable with me helping you, just say so. I can call a nurse outside and have her feed you instead."

I looked at him. Despite how alert I was, I could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"No... it's okay," I answered hoarsely, trying to calm myself down.

I tried reaching for the spoon with my uninjured right hand, but before I could even grab it, my arm started trembling. It felt too heavy to lift, and the movement sent pain shooting through my shoulder.

I let out a frustrated sigh.

Damn it.

"I've got it," he said gently, taking the spoon from me.

He scooped up a little soup, blew on it to cool it down, then carefully brought it to my lips.

I watched him as I slowly swallowed the warm soup. The moment it settled in my stomach, I felt a little more alive. The coldness that had seemed to settle deep inside my body began to ease.

As he continued feeding me, I couldn't help studying his face from such a close distance.

His nose was straight, his eyes sharp, and a thin mustache and beard framed his strong, square jaw. His brownish-black hair was slightly messy, as if he hadn't had much time to fix it.

We were so close that I flinched when he suddenly wiped the corner of my mouth with a tissue, treating me like a little kid.

My cheeks grew hot.

This was awkward. Embarrassingly awkward.

I quickly looked away and focused on the blanket.

"Thank you... Dr. Zachary," I murmured, hoping to hide my embarrassment.

"You're welcome. And Zachary is a bit of a mouthful. Just call me Zach."

From his expression and the way he treated me, it was clear he had no idea who I really was or what kind of trouble I was running from. As far as he knew, I was just another patient who needed medical attention.

And that was all he seemed to care about. He genuinely wanted me to get better.

He set the empty bowl on the side table when he noticed how quiet I'd become and how I kept avoiding his gaze.

"I need to check on the other patients in the ER," he said gently, standing up and straightening his coat. "But don't worry. A nurse will stay here to keep an eye on you while I'm gone."

He paused by the door and glanced back at me with a small smile.

"Get some rest, okay? You're safe now."

When the door closed behind him, the little strength I'd been holding on to finally gave way.

I stared at the ceiling as tears slowly rolled down my cheeks.

I was safe for now, but I was alone.

Mom and Dad were gone.

The man in the forest had said someone from Spain had ordered the attack to take my family's position. But who?

Could it have been House Valdés, the family we'd trusted as our ally in Spain? Or one of the other Houses that had been waiting for us to fall?

No. It couldn't have been the Valdés family.

I looked at my right hand, the IV line still taped to it.

As the Heir of Monteverde, I was the final successor to our House. The future of the entire organization rested in my hands.

Yet here I was, lying in a hospital bed, too weak to stand on my own and hiding behind the name Ina.

Only now was I beginning to understand the weight of that position.

I'd always thought being the Heir meant having power. I'd thought about the combat training with Dad, the weapons, and the ability to hold my own against anyone who challenged me.

But it was more than that.

People could die because of the decisions I made.

Mom and Dad had sacrificed themselves to give me a chance to survive and protect the remaining members of our House.

I couldn't just lie here and cry.

I wiped my tears with my trembling hand and looked toward the door Zach had walked through earlier.

At least I was lucky enough to have been saved by him.

He knew how to save lives with clean hands. Meanwhile, I had to learn how to kill—and decide who deserved to live.

We belonged to completely different worlds.

He had no idea how bloody mine really was.

My thoughts were interrupted when the door suddenly opened.

I quickly wiped my face and straightened up in bed.

Two uniformed police officers entered the room, both wearing serious expressions. One of them held a small notebook. Zach followed behind them, his brows drawn together, clearly unhappy that they'd entered without waiting.

"Excuse me, Officers. I already told you she shouldn't be stressed out yet," Zach said, stepping in front of them.

"This will only take a minute, Doc. We just need her initial statement so we can file the report," one of the officers replied before turning to me.

They approached the side of my bed.

"I'm Officer Torres. Can you tell us what happened to you that night? Who did this to you?"

I looked at them.

I knew how the authorities worked, and I understood how people like us operated. Ordinary police officers would be more likely to believe a simple, straightforward story than one that raised questions about the Monteverdes.

I needed to give them a reason to stop digging.

"Some... some men stopped me on the road," I began, forcing my voice to tremble. "They tried to assault me. T-they dragged me toward the darkness, but I managed to get away and ran into the forest. That's where they shot me."

"Where are those men now? Did anyone see them?" the officer asked as he wrote in his notebook.

"I don't know..." I shook my head, making myself sound more frightened than I felt. "Everything was getting dark. I just kept running until I reached the road."

I made sure to look confused and shaken, hoping they wouldn't push for more details.

Even if they investigated the place where Mom, Dad, and I had been ambushed, I doubted they'd find anything useful. The Great Houses knew how to cover their tracks. No evidence, no stray bullets, nothing that could lead back to the massacre.

They asked a few more questions, including where I lived and whether my relatives knew what had happened.

Every answer I gave them was a lie.

Officer Torres eventually frowned, but he seemed satisfied enough with my statement.

Zach turned toward them, his eyebrows drawn together.

"Officers, that's enough for now. You can clearly see that she's still recovering."

His voice was firm, and judging by his expression, he was getting annoyed.

The officers exchanged a glance before nodding. They said they'd follow up if they needed anything else, then headed for the door.

Zach followed them out to escort them from the ward. Before leaving, he instructed the nurse to come in and stay with me.

Once the door closed, the nurse approached to check my IV fluids.

I kept my expression neutral, but my thoughts were already racing.

The news of the ambush must have reached the other Houses by now, especially our relatives and allies in Spain.

I needed to make sure.

I needed to find out what was happening in Spain.