Home > Born a Queen (The Queens #3)(9)

Born a Queen (The Queens #3)(9)
Author: Nikita Slater

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

Raina woke suddenly from a sharp stabbing pain in her back. She gasped and bolted upright, then immediately regretted the action as she cried out in pain.

"Ow, shit!" she yelped reaching around to touch her back. She must've rolled over onto the wound or stretched funny in her sleep and the pain woke her up.

That was a hell of a way to greet the day. She took several deep breaths trying to regain her composure. Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she quickly dried her eyes. There was nothing to cry about. It was just a little pain, nothing she hadn't dealt with before.

When she managed to pull herself together, she inched her way to the edge of the bed and gingerly placed her feet on the floor. She decided to take a short rest rather than stand up immediately and risk falling over if she happened to receive another jolt of intense pain or a wave of dizziness.

She hated that she was in such weak condition while sheltering in the home of someone who might be an enemy. It made her vulnerable and Raina didn't like feeling vulnerable. She was pretty sure she got that personality trait from her tough as nails mother. Vee also hated feeling vulnerable.

But Diane, Raina's adoptive mom, always wore her feelings on her sleeve. Everyone knew where they stood with Diane. She was the kindest hearted person Raina knew. Sometimes Raina wished she was more like her adoptive mom than her birth mother. Yet, she was also able to recognize that each woman had given Raina unique characteristics that made up her whole person. She couldn't regret something like that.

She gripped the edge of the nightstand and slowly pulled herself up onto her feet. Motherfucker, her back was on fire. It hurt much worse than it had the night before. Was it infected? Had she somehow managed to tear the stitches in her sleep?

She thought about it and decided the wound was probably sore from being slept on. After she'd had her kidney transplant, she’d had good days and bad days, depending on what her body decided to throw at her. There were definitely times where the incision site hurt much worse than other times.

Raina wasn't one to seek drugs, but if anything was going to drive her out of that bedroom and in search of civilization within Giovanni’s great mausoleum of a house it was her need for painkillers. She tugged at the T-shirt that she'd been given to sleep in. She thought it might belong to one of the Italian men guarding the estate. It was a plain black T-shirt that covered her up for the most part, though it bared her legs more than she was comfortable with.

She gave her pile of clothes on the floor a disparaging look. She hated the thought of putting them back on. They were dirty, they were bloody, and they represented her trauma of the day before. She wanted nothing more than to bury them in a deep hole and never look at them again. Which sucked, because those had been her favourite jeans and the leather jacket had been specially made for her in France.

Another thing Antonio owed her.

She made her way carefully down the hall toward the bathroom that she’d been shown the night before. She relieved herself, washed her hands and attempted to put her hair into some semblance of order. The fine blonde strands were not usually difficult to arrange. A quick finger comb and some fluffing and she no longer had a wicked case of bedhead.

She went through all the drawers and the medicine cabinet searching for ibuprofen or Tylenol but came up empty. Dammit, she was actually going to have to go look for someone.

Raina wandered down the staircase to the lower level, looking this way and that at the house furnishings. She hoped they would be less gloomy than they had the night before, but her impression of an unloved and unlived in home was spot on. Dust covered pretty much everything and what the dust wasn't covering, drop cloths were.

It looked as though this place had been abandoned some time ago, but she knew otherwise. The library she'd been shown to the night before had been well used. The guest room she’d used hadn’t sported even a speck of dust.

She bypassed Giovanni's office in favour of searching for a maid or a guard instead. Though she felt relatively certain that Giovanni wasn't going to have her killed, at least not yet, she wasn't quite up for a conversation with the man. She had yet to truly absorb the fact that he wanted her to marry his son, the man who'd had her shot.

She shook her head at the strange logic and continued through the lower level of the home. Nothing she was seeing was convincing her that the home was used for more than sleep and time spent in that one office. A formal dining room boasted a gorgeous chandelier that was covered in filth and a massive table with ten chairs draped in cloths. Such a creepy old house. She was about to move on to the kitchen when a voice from behind her stopped her.

"No doubt you think my home is strange," Giovanni said. He waited until she turned to face him before continuing. "My wife died eleven years ago. She loved this home, decorated it, made it completely her own. Since her death I have been unable to love it the way she loved it."

And yet he hadn’t been able to move on and move out, Raina finished his thought silently. He must have been very much in love with his wife, she decided. It must've been completely heart-wrenching for Giovanni to have lost her.

Raina’s heart went out to him. But not his asshole of a son. She was still going to stab that loser the moment she laid eyes on him.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she murmured, meaning it.

He nodded his thanks. "This is a big home, with much potential. It should be filled with love, light and laughter once more. The voices of children. The way it was always meant to be."

Raina said nothing to this; she didn’t want to encourage his delusion that she marry his son.

"In the city, in my business, I must be the Godfather. The big shot. Mafioso. But in my home, I have a heart."

And he was choosing to share that heart with Raina. It scared her that he was opening himself up to her, showing his vulnerabilities. She believed that this meant she would either have to die or become part of the family. The little she knew about these types of men, they had a code. Opening up, giving information to another person, was unheard of except with close family members. It frightened her that he was already considering her family. She wanted to disabuse him of the idea, but she also wanted to continue breathing.

She elected not to speak.

He seemed to realize that his nostalgia was somewhat out of place and a shutter dropped over his expression, pushing Raina out. "You were looking for something?" His voice was cool and steady once more.

"Yes, thank you. I was searching for some painkillers. My back is in rough shape this morning."

"My apologies for not getting them to you sooner. You are such a tough little creature that I'd forgotten you will feel pain like anyone else. Follow me." He turned and walked back in the other direction, toward his office.

Raina trailed after him thinking about the strange things he'd said. Why wouldn't she feel pain like anyone else? No matter how tough a person is, pretty much everyone felt pain. Had he been testing her? Testing her resilience?

Raina gave herself a mental shake. She was overthinking this. He’d already stated his intentions and she didn't think it mattered whether or not she was fainting or gritting her teeth and bearing the pain, he still wanted her for a daughter-in-law.

Strangely though, she was starting to soften towards the older man. He seemed lonely and somewhat out of touch. Brutal probably, though she hadn't seen any first-hand evidence. She wondered how she would be feeling right about now if he'd told her she would marry him rather than his son. Neither was a great option, but the older gentleman was far more palatable then his weasel spawn.

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