Page 34 of Broken Princess

Zo considers my words and glances at Nico, who’s not known for sharing his targets or working well with others. However, he surprises me with a nod of acceptance.

“Nico, you’ll spend whatever time you need explaining your plans for our guests and making sure that Aurora’s presence won’t derail the process.”

“Jesus, Zo, I know how to question a rat,” I growl, venting my frustration at his complete lack of confidence in me.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters and steps in to lean down close to my ear. With complete authority yet utmost respect, he admonishes me. “I need to know you can take being witness to what Nico is going to do to make them talk. Bearing in mind what you’ve been through, I need to know first and fucking foremost that anything you witness will not harm you any further. I need to fucking know that you can hold it together and be a show of force alongside us so you can help us place the fear of God into them. I don’t doubt that you can question a rat. But I’m not stupid enough to place a member of my team in a position they’re not fucking prepared for. Got it?”

His outburst has stolen my breath, but I shake off. “Yes, Enzo,” I say with conviction.

Fuck. Me. That’s a lot to unpack. I squeeze my thighs together at the show of strength and support. He’s a formidable leader. I can see the genuine concern he has for me—for all of his team. But I can also see the toll it takes on him.

Right now, it’s time to go over the plan. I sit still as a statue yet alert, observing and absorbing the details. Everything they need to source, where they need to be and when, and what I need to prepare for.

In two weeks, we’ll strike. We’ll take the first step in going after my father’s killer. We have questions we need answered before we make my darling husband pay for what he’s done. There’s a larger play happening here by the De Lucas, and we need to know more before we can unravel whatever plan they’ve activated.

END OF PART ONE

There’s a sinister feeling crawling beneath the surface of my skin. It feels like something is trying to break out, ready to rip me apart and claim its first full breath in years. This dark demon, sated for so long, is furious—it’s ravenous and desperate.

I scrape my nails down my neck and pull at my collar. I feel like it’s choking me from the inside out. My lungs burn and a fiery heat thrums through my veins, making my skin itch. It needs to be set free. Free to chase, free to capture, and free to play.

It’s been so long, but nothing else will keep this monster at bay. Its favourite toy is gone, and while we can never replace it, someone must sate this hunger.

Something intriguing has just caught my attention. A meek little lamb has wandered away from its herd. Tripping and stumbling away from the crowd towards a dark alleyway leading away from the club.

Perfect…

Foolish little lamb, I think to myself as I reign in the chaos within me and focus on my prey. The beast smiles, happy with its new focus. Following behind, my footsteps are delicate, and I remember the joy of the hunt. I stalk him, waiting for my perfect moment to strike.

This one is nothing like my last, but it’s not about how they look. It’s about how their fear tastes. How they quiver and tremble as I toy with them. It’s about how long they can last.

I doubt this one will last long. I’d be surprised if he makes it until the alcohol wears off. The idiot doesn’t even flinch as my foot nudges a rock, announcing my presence. This is going to be too easy, and part of me is disappointed. This won’t be satisfying, but I need this. Just a little something to take the edge off.

I wonder what his screams will sound like? Will he cry? Will he beg?

A cruel smile snakes across my face as I cast off the internal shackles that have restricted me for so long. I reach out and coil an arm under his arm and around his torso, reaching up to muffle his startled holler. He’s so focused on the hand silencing him, he doesn’t notice the hypodermic syringe in my other hand until it’s embedded in the side of his neck.

Night-night, little lamb… time for your slaughter.

PART TWO

“It isn't what we say or think that defines us,

but what we do.”

Sense and Sensibility, 1811

Jane Austen

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

AURORA

TWO WEEKS LATER…

Ihave at least an hour to kill until they’ll be back with our targets, so I’m taking advantage of the opportunity to have a shower without one of my guard dogs standing sentry. In their defence, they have been perfect gentlemen and always keep their backs to the shower stall, but it’s nice to be alone and be able to savour the hot water pelting my back and easing my aching muscles. It soothes my soul.

Doc Em lifted my bed-rest restrictions a few days ago. She seems pretty happy with my progress. Most of my injuries are healing okay save for my ankle. While I’m allowed to move about more, I’ve been told to use a crutch. Hence the guys not allowing me out of their sight when I need to stand for any length of time.

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