Page 40 of Property of Benvolio

"Without doing x-rays, I can't be one hundred per cent sure of her injuries. I can tell you she has a broken nose but not badly enough to need urgent surgery. Once she's recovered we can speak about realigning the septum. The eye sockets and cheekbones are free of damage which is nothing short of a miracle considering the beating she suffered but I can't rule out hairline fractures. I'm convinced hot water was thrown over her and not acid or some other caustic liquid because the burns are minor, and blistering shouldn't get any worse than it is now. The egg-sized swelling on her right temple is why she's still unconscious. The force of the blow would have knocked her out cold. I'll draw blood to check she wasn't drugged, but I don't see any of the signs to indicate she has been."

The doctor took a deep breath and paused for a moment.

"I can't feel any trauma—broken ribs, enlarged organs, to her torso and as you can see, there is no bruising. I'm pretty sure the incision is the only injury that is more than enough. I'll use butterfly clips to secure the incision, it's only superficial. She doesn't have a temperature. In fact, it's on the low side of normal. I'll write up a script for a very good ointment for the abrasions and small cuts on her wrist and a cream for the burns on her face which will also help the small cuts there. I have no doubt she's concussed, but she should come around in a couple of hours and will need to be watched carefully for the next forty-eight hours. I'll arrange a nurse."

“No. I’ll take care of my wife. If any business comes up, my men are capable of doing what’s needed.”

“Very well. If you’re concerned, call me and if needed, we’ll transfer her to Mercury Private Hospital.”

“Thank you.”

The doctor closed the incision and taped a bandage over the length before writing out a prescription which he handed to me.

"Pick up butterfly clips, light bandage and tape while you're at the pharmacy."

“I will. Thanks again.”

The doctor stood. I rose and walked him downstairs, seeing him to the car and activating the gate so he could leave. Once the gates closed behind him, I went back inside to speak with my men.

***

Cosimo and Savastino had left to go home after I had given them the doctor's assessment on Nikita. While Gaetano made the trip to the pharmacy, armed with a list of what was needed, I went back upstairs and changed into sweats and a t-shirt.

After Gaetano dropped off the supplies, including a large box of Panadol that the doctor had assured me was probably all she would need for the pain, he took himself off to his suite downstairs. He lived in a two-bedroom self-contained suite I'd had added to the house shortly after buying the property. A few years earlier, Gaetano had bought a large home in Mosman but had offered it to his parents to live in, insisting he preferred the suite where he currently lived. I liked knowing he was close at hand.

Gaetano was the only person I trusted without question and that included my parents. We shared a love and close bond that I knew was unbreakable no matter what happened.

I walked him downstairs, and before making my way to the kitchen, said we would talk the following morning.

My cook—Alaina, and Louisa, sisters who had come to Sydney from the Philippines in search of a better life, had left hours earlier, so I headed to the kitchen for a jug of lemonade, and another filled with iced water that I placed on a tray with two glasses. In the fridge, I found a dish that was labelled Butter Chicken and heated it in the microwave before adding it, and a hot mug of coffee from the percolator that was always at the ready, to the tray which I carried upstairs and set on top of my chest of drawers.

Nikita was still out cold but while I ate, twitching and movement alerted me she was slowly coming back. I felt some level of regret that I had forgone the opportunity to torture the fucker who had hurt my wife.

“That smells good.”

Nikita's raspy whisper startled me, and I juggled the now-empty plate, catching it before it hit the floor. Setting it aside, I sat on the bed and took her hand. Both eyes remained closed, too swollen to open.

“Ben?”

“Yes, Sweetheart. You’re home.”

“You came for me after I told you to never put yourself or your family in danger?”

Nikita started coughing, so after standing and throwing back the doona, I lifted her into a sitting position against the pillows. After a few moments, the coughing eased.

“Water,” she croaked.

I poured a glass of the iced water and held it to Nikita’s lips, mindful of her swollen lips. She covered the hand holding the glass with hers, pushing to tilt the glass. The feel of her soft skin against mine set my heart thumping. I had no idea why.

“Don’t gulp. Sip slowly, Sweetheart.”

Nikita drank half before pushing the glass away and slumping back against the pillows. I set the glass on the bedside table and took her hands in mine.

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Nik.”

“I’ve never had anyone call me Nik.”

“Sorry…Nikita.”

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