He kicked a chair, but it was tucked in tightly against the table, so it didn’t go anywhere. That sense of helplessness turned into rage, and he grabbed it by a spindle and hurled it. The satisfying splinter of wood didn’t erase the image of her in that car with Marcel. A man who might one day be her husband. He wanted to tear it out of his brain and rip it to shreds.

She needed to hear about the lab. “After the vote, I’ll fly out there,” Brodie said. “We can—”

“No. We can’t. Please Brodie, please, don’t make this harder than it already is. Just…let me go.”

She didn’t need his shit right now. She needed to get home and see her dad. “Yeah, okay. But if you need me, I’m here.” Always.

“Thank you. Goodbye, Brodie.”

She disconnected, and like an asshole, he kept the phone to his ear, as if he could somehow hang onto her.

He paced to the French doors, thoughts swarming like bats. He got it—the implications of this news could be devastating. With her dad’s health in jeopardy just days away from the vote, they had to pull out all the stops for a show of continuity and strength.

They had no choice. Her mother couldn’t be Head of State, nor could Rosie or her sister.

They’d make her marry the douchenozzle. He knew it in his gut.

They were panicking, and in their anxiety, they were relying on the old playbook.

She’s going to marry Marcel.

She’ll have no choice.

Jesus Christ.

It’s over.

Chapter Twenty-One

Hurrying down the hallway of the hospital’s private wing, Rosalina’s heels clicked on the polished floor. The smells assaulted her—disinfectant, medicine, sickness.

Two of her father’s bodyguards stood vigil outside his room, and a cluster of royal insiders gathered in the waiting area.

Keeping pace with her, Marcel looked up from his phone. “Your mother’s in a private conference room.”

“I know that. I’ve been in contact with her this whole time.” But instead of finding her mother, she went to the nurse’s station. It would be better to get details from them. When Marcel followed, she said, “Stay away from me. When it’s time to put on a show, I will. But right now, in this hospital, it’s about me and my family.”

Reluctantly, he let her go.

At the desk, she said, “Excuse me?”

One of the nurses looked up. “Good morning, Princess.”

“Can you please fill me in on my father?”

The woman stood up. “Yes, of course. They repaired his mitral valve.”

“I don’t know what that means. Is he all right?”

“He’s in recovery right now.”