REBORN My Second Life I Became The Villianess (Nyxara) novel Chapter 42

I didn't put her down. I stepped out of the car carrying her in my arms, walking straight through the automatic sliding glass doors. The paparazzi and onlookers were staring, snapping photos that would undoubtedly make the morning papers, but I didn't give a damn.

I walked straight up to the main reception desk and glared down at the terrified nurse. "Help her. Now," I roared.

Before she could stammer a reply, the heavy ambulance doors outside swung open, and medical staff rushed through, wheeling Carlton in on a gurney, still unconscious and pale.

The head ER doctor took one look at me standing in the lobby with thunder in my eyes, recognized me instantly, and bypassed triage entirely.

"Right this way, Mr. Valteri," the doctor said, leading us down a secure, private corridor away from the chaos.

He ushered us into a private trauma suite, immediately grabbing supplies. As the doctor prepared the local anesthetic, I watched Nyxara's eyes dart toward the door, her chest tightening.

"My father," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "Is he... is he going to be okay?"

I stepped closer, leaning down so only she could hear. I brushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, my thumb grazing her cheek.

"Don't worry," I whispered, my breath warm against her ear. "He's being taken care of."

The senior attending physician carefully peeled away the remaining tissue and dried blood from her temple, shining a penlight into her eyes before checking the gash.

"Well, the good news is there's no skull fracture and her pupils are reacting normally," the doctor announced. "The bad news is that it's deep enough that it’s not going to heal on its own. She's going to need a couple of stitches to close it up properly so it doesn't scar."

The second the word stitches left his mouth, I felt the air pressure in the room snap violently. My posture went rigid. My jaw locked so tight a muscle ticked in my cheek, and my eyes hardened . Nysa had crossed a line, and my mind was already calculating the most agonizing way to make her pay for every drop of blood on Nyxara's skin.

Nyxara sat like stone, offering no complaint, no wincing, just staring straight ahead at the stainless-steel tray.

The nurse cleaned the wound with a stinging antiseptic, administered the local anesthetic, and the doctor picked up the curved needle and fine suture thread. Through it all, she didn't flinch, enduring it with the cold, calculated detachment of a survivor.

When the final knot was tied and a fresh sterile bandage was pressed over the top, the doctor packed up his tray. "I'm going to go check on Mr. Vexari in the adjacent recovery suite and review his scans. I'll leave you both for a moment."

"Do it," I commanded, my voice a low, gravelly rumble.

The medical staff scrambled out, clicking the heavy door shut behind them. The second the latch clicked, the atmosphere in the room turned electric.

I moved instantly, stepping directly between her knees and planting both of my hands firmly on the examination table on either side of her hips. I leaned down, caging her in completely, my broad chest inches from hers, my dark gaze boring straight into her violet eyes.

"Why?" I demanded, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You're smart and I know you're lethal. You could have broken her arm, you could have thrown her through a wall, you could have crippled her the second she laid a hand on you."

I paused, frustration and raw fascination warring in my chest. "Why didn't you retaliate, Nyxara? Why the hell did you just stand there and let her beat you?" I asked.

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