Page 98 of Fallen Crown

“It’ll have to be another, then.” Enzo gives me a smug smile. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ve got no business being here, no matter what’s been going on since I’ve been gone.” He grips the door to her hospital room. “I have to say, your influence on her hasn’t been good. She’s back in the hospital on another road to recovery, and you’ve turned her into the one person she never wanted to be. Her father. If you wanted to knock her down, you did a hell of a job.”

He slips inside the hospital room door before I can formulate a response. I whirl on my heel, and my jaw is so tight, it’s aching. Whatever it takes, I’m going into that room. He’s not getting a chance to guilt her into staying with him or to convince her that I’m a bad influence.

“Jag, I want you to make some calls to private investigators in Boston. I want to know what Enzo has been up to for the last year.”

“I know a guy,” Jag says, taking out his phone.

“Is that a good idea?” Nick asks.

I ignore Nick’s attempt at being the voice of reason for once in his life. Whether or not Maren wants to be with me, she deserves the truth about Enzo, whatever that might be. No man stays away from his wife for a year with unlimited freedom and unlimited cash and keeps his nose clean. Guaranteed there are some skeletons lurking somewhere. I slide my phone out of my pocket, and I make the first call that I hope will get me to Maren’s side.

“Alex,” I say when my brother answers. “I need a favor.”

Chapter Forty-Two

Maren

The white walls, stiff sheets, and the scent of antiseptic are dead giveaways that I’m back in the hospital even before I open my eyes. But the person fast asleep in the chair beside my bed is a surprise. Warmth floods my chest.

Brice.

He’s dressed in a Brioni suit, expensive but rumpled, and all the pieces are askew. His ten-day racing beard is gone, but in its place is a light layer of stubble, and I wonder how long I’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness. This is the first time I’m aware he’s here, and it’s almost too good to be true.

My mind is still fuzzy on how I ended up here or why Brice would be sitting at my bedside, but I’m grateful, after the way we left things in Fiji, that he came.

Someone clears their throat on the other side of the room, and I turn my head so fast my vision blurs for a moment.

Enzo.

My heart kicks with an instant spike of anxiety, which is mirrored on the monitor next to me.

“I forgot you were here,” I say.

“Clearly,” he says, and his response is filled with so much vitriol that heat invades my cheeks. In contrast to Brice, he’s dressed in the same jeans and polo shirt as the other night.

The last thing I remember, now that I’ve been reminded Enzo is here, is arriving to the restaurant where we got engaged. Once the car was flush with the curb, I can’t recall anything else.

“What happened?” I ask.

“You collapsed on the bathroom floor,” Brice says, his voice rough from sleep beside me. “The hostess found you.”

“You’re back from Denmark?” There are too many things happening in this room for me to keep my head straight. Brice is here. Enzo is here. I passed out in a bathroom.

“A day and a half ago,” Brice says. “Came straight here.” He rises to his feet to lean over my bed, and he smooths my hair back. “Do you need anything?”

Confusion swirls in my brain over the right thing to do with either of them. Last time Brice and I spoke, he asked me to bear his children. The last time Enzo and I were in the same room, we were fighting about almost exactly the same thing—my ability and desire to have children.

“What’s wrong with me?” I try to read Brice’s expression when he withdraws from hovering over me.

“Leptospirosis,” Enzo says. “Someone didn’t clean your wound thoroughly enough in Fiji. The antibiotics they’re feeding you should clear it up.”

“I’ll take the L on the infection,” Brice says. “If I’d been here, I would have noticed you weren’t well. At least I didn’t leave you lying on a bathroom floor for so long that the hostess became worried.”

“The only reason she was on that floor was because you coerced her into competing again when she’d told everyone she was done.”

“Stop!” I hold up my hand. “He didn’t coerce me. I wanted to go, so don’t try to blame him for a decision I went into with my eyes wide open.” That’s true for pretty much everything that’s happened between me and Brice. I understood the consequences of my actions, and I did it all anyway. My wild heart beats faster around Brice, and it turns out, I like it. If only that had been as far as things went.

“I’d like to speak to you alone.” Enzo’s jaw tics, and he crosses his arms.