Chapter 16
When Elizabeth Ross woke up, she was at first very surprised to find herself in a hospital bed. The smell of disinfectant immediately struck her nose, causing her stomach to rise. She sank deeper into the pillow, forcing herself to concentrate on breathing regularly, sensing the rhythm and intensity of her breath and slowly calming down. And when she was calm, her memory began to return. She immediately and fully consciously returned to the moment she stared into Black Widow's cruel, vengeful face. Into the face of the improved bitch who stole Bruce from her. Oh, poor Bruce. If he only knew what creature he had by his side…
She could see so clearly, so vividly, the last look she gave her. So full of coldness, a silent warning, and the promise that if the two meet again, Betty will definitely come out of their meeting as a loser. The thought aroused a huge wave of rage in her. This Russian girl can't just get through this, no, she definitely won't let it go. Bruce must know who he was involved with, and Natasha Romanov must be punished, she can't go through everything without consequences, someone must be the one who knocks the imaginary crown off her head. Betty braced herself on her arms and wanted to get up, get out of bed, and go for that bitch, but suddenly... she found she couldn't. That her legs wouldn't listen to her. Frightened by what had happened to her, she couldn't help but shout.
The next moment, a nurse ran inside. When she realized that Betty was already awake, she smiled at her, and when she lifted her, she began to shake her pillow. "Hello, Miss Ross," she greeted her perfectly calmly as if there was no frightened patient sitting in front of her, unable to speak and just staring at her nurse in disbelief. "You're probably surprised where you are, aren't you? But be absolutely calm, you have been taken care of and you will be fine again as far as possible. "As far as possible? Betty didn't know if she should laugh, or cry. She can't feel her legs!! "You had an accident, Miss, they found you in your father's lab complex. Unfortunately, you suffered severe damage to the nerves and spinal cord in the neck area, which led to paralysis of your lower limbs. I am sorry to inform you that you will be dependent on a wheelchair for the rest of your life. But don't worry, we'll help you with that," she assured her, placing a hand on her shoulder as a mother. Betty wanted to bark at her to get out, but she couldn't get a word out of herself. Serious spinal cord damage. Paralyzed. For the rest of my life. The words sounded in her mind and repeated like a mantra. Betty looked at her feet, which were covered with a light blanket. With a trembling hand, she felt her right thigh and squeezed it tightly. She squeezed the skin between her toes, but her legs... didn't respond. She just didn't feel any pain from the pinch.
She rolled onto her side and vomited.
"Calm down, miss. I understand it can be a bit of a shock," the nurse reassured her.
Betty was beginning to hate her. Exhausted, she lay back on the bed, staring only at the white ceiling, holding back tears. She heard the nurse clean and then open the window, and when she was done, she said softly through her teeth, "Could you please leave?"
"One second," she said, checking that she had everything here; some food, water, a cannula in her hand. "If you need anything, call for me," she told her with a wide smile. "I'll be right next door. When you have strength, we're going to take a bath, okay?"
Yes, Betty did hate her. She treated her like a little child and a senile pensioner at the same time. She began to concentrate on breathing again as the nurse headed for the door, but there she turned to her. "By the way, someone came to see you. Should I tell him he can come in?"
"Would you be so kind and tell me who exactly came?" she growled at her and swallowed. One naive part of her hoped it would be Bruce. She would have liked Liv, too. But she was convinced it would be rather her father, and her nurse immediately confirmed her words.
"It's Mr. Ross," she informed her, and when Betty nodded a little disappointed, she finally left.
Then Mr. Ross came in, but to her surprise, it was definitely not her father. She opened her mouth and looked confused when she recognized Everett Ross, who smiled a little apologetically at her and pulled a chair to her bed.
"Hello, Elizabeth. You must have been surprised that I came to see you, and not your father," Everett began slowly as if she was not only paralyzed but demented too. Betty snorted. There were too many of those surprises today. "They probably wouldn't let me visit you at all if I didn't have the same last name as you, so I took a little advantage of that. Because I really need to talk to you. You weren't the only one attacked that day. Among the injured were Quentin Beck and your father. Unfortunately, his injury was fatal. Please, accept my sincere condolences," he told her, looking sorry and then squeezing her arm briefly. Like her nurse, he didn't seem to be very empathetic, so he didn't give the terrified Betty time to process the new information, and continued, "I felt a certain responsibility that it must be me who will inform you of his death, as I became his successor. I'm so sorry, Elizabeth. That with your father, and with your injuries-"
"Get out," Betty hissed, glaring at him. He looked stunned. "Get out. Why should you feel sorry for getting his place after his death? You must be more than excited."
He looked concerned. "You're hurting me, Miss Ross." Ah, he finally gave up the familiar address. "I respected your father, and I certainly didn't want him dead."
"Get out."
"I thought we could talk-"
"I told you to get out!" she yelled at him, so he got up and headed for the door. He squeezed the doorknob and turned to her to wish her a fast recovery. Betty was so upset that she grabbed a glass of water and threw it at him. Fortunately, he managed to disappear quickly into the hallway, so the glass shattered loudly against the door. "Asshole!" Elizabeth shouted, and then she finally burst into tears. The loss of her father, her injuries, the victory of the Russian whore, it all came to her.
She wanted revenge on her, so much, for all she had done to her. She took her Bruce, she took her father, and now she took her ability to live a normal life. She took everything from her. She hated her so much. This was worse than death, and Betty now regretted that Black Widow had kept her hunger for blood, for death, and hadn't killed her. And she made sure that Betty wouldn't even look at her again. Tied to a wheelchair and half paralyzed, she could hardly complete her revenge. Now she had no chance against Black Widow. She had nothing left. She didn't have a father, Bruce wouldn't want her like that, even Liv had already resented her when she didn't show up or send her a message.
Elizabeth Ross was left alone. And that bitch Romanov got everything she wanted. Betty was helpless against her as a little worm. And she hated it. She hated having to lie in this hospital, learn to live with such a limiting handicap and accept that she had lost.
The game was over.