Page 65 of Ruined By Blood
Voices drift from the bedroom. My muscles tense automatically before I recognize them. Not men. Not Jackson. Not my father's guards.
I crack the door open, steam escaping into the cooler air of the guest suite. Zoe and Lucrezia sit at the edge of the bed, their conversation halting as they notice me. Behind them stands an older man with silver-streaked hair and kind eyes. The doctor who treated me after thecasino.
"There she is," Lucrezia says, her voice gentle like she's talking to a spooked animal. Maybe she is. "How was your bath?"
"Fine," I whisper, clutching the towel tighter. "Thank you."
Zoe comes forward, holding out a soft robe. "Here, put this on. Dr. Romano needs to check you over."
My throat tightens. "I—I don't?—"
"It's okay," Zoe says, her green eyes soft with understanding. "We'll stay if you want. Or we can step out."
"Stay," I manage. "Please."
I slip the robe on while Lucrezia turns away to give me privacy, though Zoe helps me when my arms shake too much to manage the sleeves. The fabric feels impossibly soft against my tender skin.
"Miss Sterling," he says, keeping his distance until I look up at him. "May I examine your injuries?"
I nod, sinking onto the edge of the bed. His hands are cool and clinical as he checks the bruising along my jaw, the cut on my lip. Nothing like Jackson's grip.
"Does it hurt when you breathe deeply?" he asks.
I take a careful breath. "A little. Not too bad."
He presses gently along my ribs, watching my face for signs of pain. I've gotten good at hiding it, but something in his eyes tells me he knows anyway.
"The good news is nothing appears to be broken," he finally says, stepping back and closing his medical bag. "The bruising looks worse than it is. Your body has been through significant stress, but physically, you're going to be alright."
Relief washes through me, though I hadn't realized I was worried. So many worse things have happened to me than a backhand from Jackson.
"I'm going to leave some mild pain medication," Dr. Romano continues, placing a small bottle on the nightstand. "One every six hours if needed. And I strongly recommend rest. Your body needs time to recover from both the physical trauma and the shock."
He speaks to me directly, not over my head to Zoe or Lucrezia. It feels strange to be addressed as a person with agency rather than a problem to be managed.
"Thank you," I say, surprised by the sincerity in my voice.
Dr. Romano packs the last of his supplies. "Call me if anything changes or if the pain worsens." He gives me a gentle smile before nodding to the women and heading toward the door.
When he's gone, Lucrezia perches beside me on the bed, careful not to sit too close.
"Are you hungry?" she asks. "Ginerva made soup."
The thought of food turns my stomach, but I know I should eat something. "Maybe later."
I sit in awkward silence after Dr. Romano leaves, clutching the robe tighter around myself.
"You'll need clothes," Zoe says, breaking the silence. "I brought some basics earlier, but they're not much."
I look down, unsure what to say. The idea of someone shopping for me feels intimate to me.
"When you're feeling better, we should order you some new things," Zoe continues, her hand unconsciously resting on the gentle swell of her stomach. "Really, whatever you want."
"I couldn't possibly-" I start.
"You can," she interrupts firmly. "And you should."
I stare at her, this woman I barely know who speaks with such certainty. Her pregnancy is visible but notpronounced. The bump curves slightly against her fitted top, a physical reminder of how different our lives are.
