24. Carmen
Chapter 24
Carmen
T he first thing I feel when I wake up is the sharp throb in my head, the kind that pounds like a drum, steady and relentless.
I blink my eyes open, wincing at the light, and then the cool, sterile scent of a hospital room hits me.
For a second, I can’t quite place where I am. The walls are a familiar shade of ivory, and the bed I’m lying on is plush and luxurious, too soft for a hospital.
Then it hits like a freight train. This is the Rubio mansion. I’m home.
Home.
I immediately try to sit up, but the moment I move, pain shoots through me. I hiss, my head spinning slightly as I settle back into the pillows, noting, for the first time, the thick bandage around my arm.
Everything feels fuzzy and disjointed as I stare at it.
Then, it all comes rushing back in flashes.
The warehouse. The exchange. The silence before everything fell apart. Mia, bruised and bloody. I can still see her—her red hair matted with blood, the goddamn bruises.
And then...the gunshot. The searing pain in my side. Dante’s voice, shouting my name, so desperate it nearly shattered me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but it keeps coming back.
I remember Mia’s face so clearly. Watching her stumble toward me, the sight of her so wrong, so out of place. She wasn’t even my friend anymore. She wasn’t supposed to be there.
But looking at her in that moment, beaten and bloodied, I couldn’t help but feel a deep, aching sorrow. I should hate her. I want to hate her for everything she’s done, for deceiving me, for being on the opposite side of this war.
But how could I? The Cartel hadn’t stolen an asset from the Prince’s Guild. They’d taken Mia as a hostage.
Just like me, Mia had been stolen from her home, her loved ones, for the sake of this war. But only one of us showed up to the exchange, looking like they’d spent the last few months being tortured.
It all starts to make sense why Dante did what he did…it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about us. No matter how we left things between us, he always knew Mia’s life was on the line.
There’s a selfish piece of me that wishes things were different. A part of me that wants to believe that he could have chosen me over everything else. That he could have picked me .
But in the quiet of my mind, I know better.
I would have done the same thing. If I were in his shoes, I would have chosen Mia, too. I would have traded myself for her, to keep her safe, to protect someone who never deserved to be in this mess.
Dante had no choice.
And neither did I.
I close my eyes again, and the weight of everything presses on me, a suffocating realization.
I just wish...I wish I hadn’t fallen in love with Dante.
I’m so deep in my own spiraling thoughts I don’t realize someone has joined me until the soft, melodic tone snaps me out of it.
“ Hola , Carmen.” Doctor Alvarado comes into view, gently leaning over my bed.
Melissa Alvarado’s face is as soft and kind as it has ever been. Her smile still unchanged despite the twenty years she’s worked for our family—a constant, familiar presence in my life. One that I’m so, so grateful for now.
“Doctor Alvarado,” I murmur, trying not to let the tears spill from my eyes. “How long...how long have I been out?”
She offers me a look of sympathy as she presses the back of her hand to my forehead. “A few days. You were lucky, Carmen. You’ll recover.”
“Good,” I say, even though the word feels hollow.
Lucky . I don’t feel lucky. I don’t feel anything but emptiness.
Then, the inevitable question slips from my mouth without thinking. “What’s happened since I—since I left?”
Really, I should be asking about my injuries, my father maybe. But we both know what I’m asking for.
She hesitates. “I wish I could tell you, Carmen. Things have been tense. Very tense. But...I can't speak for Amos’ plans. You know as well as I do that he's unpredictable. Always has been.”
I nod, trying to swallow the bitterness that rises in my throat at the mention of my father.
But really, what did I expect her to say? That Hernando Lacruz had gotten bored waiting around, and it was no longer my father’s intention to marry me off?
I lie back, trying to force some clarity into my thoughts.
But then the doctor’s expression changes, her gaze flickering to the floor before she clears her throat.
A chill crawls over my skin. “Doctor?”
She looks back at me, her face serious and almost regretful. Her voice drops a notch, almost as if she’s apologizing.
“Carmen,” she begins carefully. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”
I sit up straighter, ignoring the dizziness that follows. “What? Melissa, please, just?—”
“You’ve been through a lot, Carmen. The bullet wound will heal. You’ll be fine physically. You’re actually in remarkably good health, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
But then there’s a moment of silence that feels like it lasts forever.
“You’re...pregnant.”
The word hits me like a punch to the gut. I blink, not quite understanding, not fully processing what she just said.
Pregnant.
The doctor’s face falls when she looks at my face, as if somehow my expression has just confirmed her fears.
“I know this is a lot to take in. I—I don’t know what you plan to do about it. But your condition will require care. Like I said, your health is in excellent condition, but moving forward...”
She keeps talking while the word echoes in my head.
Pregnant.
Everything else around it is fading away, drowning in the tidal wave of shock crashing over me. I feel the world spin around me. The pain in my head intensifies, and a new kind of ache begins to pulse in my chest.
Pregnant.
For a moment, I feel utterly disconnected from my body—like it doesn’t belong to me anymore.
I didn’t want to think about it. Not now. Not with everything else that’s been falling apart.
I press a hand to my forehead, trying to ground myself, trying to catch my breath, trying to ease the pain. But the words keep swirling around in my mind.
Pregnant .
My mind flashes through the last few months. The moments with Dante, soft kisses, long kisses, long nights in his sheets and mine. Pleasure and routine and something so close to love, but it was never given that name.
For a brief moment, a small flicker of something soft and unexpected stirs within me. The thought of carrying Dante’s child.
Pregnant.
A baby.
Something tangible that came from us, from those sacred moments we shared in Italy. The stolen glances, the fleeting touches, the times we walked and danced under the sun and laughed like nothing in the world mattered.
Those memories—those moments with him—suddenly take on a weight, something more permanent, more real than anything else I’ve ever known.
I close my eyes and picture it: the soft weight of a child in my arms, a living, breathing reminder of something good. A reminder of laughter in the halls of the Iron Castle, of Evelina’s proud smile, of espressos in the sunroom.
But that feeling is fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a wave of cold, suffocating reality. I can’t hold onto the thought of a future that doesn’t exist.
I want to scream. I want to run from everything. But I don’t know where to run to because…
Amos.
Amos Rubio.
I swallow hard, my breath catching in my throat.
If my father finds out, everything is over. All of it—the alliances, the power dynamics, the delicate threads that hold this world together—will unravel in an instant. He cannot know about this. He cannot.
If he finds out about the pregnancy, if he discovers what’s happened, the consequences will be disastrous. Not just for me but for the Cartel’s standing.
My family’s reputation will be shattered, and the alliance with Hernando Lacruz will be destroyed. My very existence could be in jeopardy. My father will see this as a betrayal, as something far worse than any failure I’ve made before.
I feel the panic surge again, the sharp claws of fear gripping my chest. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for the edge of the bed, my thoughts spinning out of control.
I look at Doctor Alvarado, the woman I’ve known my whole life, and see my own terror reflected back at me in her eyes.
“Please...you can’t tell anyone. You can’t tell anyone about this. Please.” I grasp her hand, desperate, begging for her understanding. “If my father finds out…”
The doctor hesitates, her eyes flickering with something unreadable. I can feel the heat of panic rising in my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears.
She doesn’t answer immediately, and that silence speaks volumes.
“I can’t promise you that, Carmen,” she says finally. “I have my loyalties, you know that.”
My stomach drops.
She’s loyal to the Cartel. Loyal to Amos. She may have already told him.
He knows.
A cold wave of fear washes over me, my heart beating so loudly I’m sure she can hear it. I can’t breathe.
This...this could be it—the moment everything unravels, the moment I lose everything—my life, my future, my child’s future—shattered in an instant.
“Carmen, I’m so sorry. You’re in a dangerous position now. You have to understand, I never wanted this for you?—”
“I don’t care !” I snap, my voice cutting through her pity. I stand up quickly, desperate, ignoring my headache and the pain in my arm. “Please, help me! There has to be a way out. You have to help me escape. Now. ”
“Carmen, please—” she tries to reach for me. To restrain me or embrace me? I don’t know, I slip away from her outreached hand and make for the door.
The room feels smaller by the second, the walls closing in. I have to get out, away from this house, away from Amos. I need to think. I need time.
I’m almost at the door when it swings open with a violent jerk.
I freeze.
Amos Rubio is standing there, his face twisted with fury. His cold, calculating eyes lock onto mine, his nostrils flaring with controlled rage. Every muscle in his body seems taut, like a predator ready to pounce.
And for the first time in months, I’m truly afraid.