Believing In Fate - book 1

Chapter 4 - Doing The Trust Thing

Asimina

Feeling Petro's hand on my shoulder, shaking me, I slowly flutter my eyes open. "We're almost there," he murmurs, his voice bringing me back to the present.

Letting out a breath while rubbing my eyes, I mutter, "I'm so tired, and my head is throbbing."

"Let me have a look." Shining his phone on my head, he takes a moment to examine my wound properly. "Shit! It's starting to bleed again." He pulls out a handkerchief and places it on my head with just enough pressure to make me hiss in pain. "We're here. I'll give you something for the pain once we're inside." Petro assures me.

The car stops in front of a large pair of iron gates, and we wait for them to open. The driver proceeds and I gaze outside, amazed. The property is situated in a prestigious area, centered on acres of land. Elegant gardens on either side of the drive, lined with old trees, help hide the view of the house. As the mansion comes into view, I'm surprised it's not what I expected at all. I thought their taste would be more modern; instead, I'm looking at a beautiful French manor that's easily ten times the size of my house.

The driver kills the engine. Both Petro and Mariano open their doors exiting before I have a chance to reach for the handle. The driver, kindly enough, holds my door open for me. Sliding out of the car, I immediately feel lightheaded as I stand, a dizzy spell consuming me. My eyelids fall heavily as darkness invades my mind. Suddenly, I think my body desperately tries to meet the ground. Groaning out in pain, I try to keep my eyes open. "My head, it hurts," I manage to mumble. Voices around me begin to fade as I feel my weakened body being lifted and carried.

"Mina, hey! Open your eyes!"

Fluttering my eyes open, I'm unable to make out who's talking to me. With my vision still blurred and my head in a daze, I'm gently placed down on what I think is a sofa. Trying to fight an unconscious state, I lose my battle and fall into darkness once again.

The sound of voices starts to bring me back, each word becoming clearer. I make out Petro talking. "Her blood pressure has dropped. Elevate her legs while I keep her head lowered."

Feeling myself being moved, the sudden rush of blood to my head brings back the throbbing pain, forcing me to open my eyes. "Shit! Stop, please! It hurts!"

They lift my head and drop my legs, my vision beginning to clear as I try to sit up. "Easy, Mina. You'll get lightheaded again. Controlled breathing."

Blinking a few times so I can focus, I feel a thick liquid running down my forehead. Instinctively, I wipe it away with my fingers. Sure enough, it's blood. "What happened?" I ask Petro, feeling disorientated. I need clarity.

His features harden, and he takes on the professional persona he adopts when speaking to a patient. "You suffered hypotension," he informs me, his stoic expression not faltering.

"What? Simple English, please." I'm in no position to understand what the hell he's talking about, and I don't appreciate his cold demeanor.

"Your blood pressure has always been on the lower end, Mina. With the blood loss from your head, it dropped even lower, causing you to pass out," he explains as if I'm a five-year-old, with a bit of frustration, but I did understand much better.

Rolling my eyes, I scoff, "You need to work on your bedside manner. Is this how you are toward all your patients?"

Ignoring my jab, he continues, "Let's get you to the kitchen. I need to patch up your head."

Dumbfounded with his cold façade and harsh tone that irks me, I clench my jaw and spit, "Would you hold on? I need a few fucking minutes!"

Taking steps towards me, he points to my head, anger soaring. "I need to patch up that damn head of yours. Now!" he seethes.