Page 12 of Broken Princess

He cants his head, considering his words before he says, “Everything is about to change. No one knows it yet, but Max just declared war on the Bianchis. We’ve picked our side and now it’s our job to protect her,” he rolls his shoulders as if trying to manage the weight of those words, “But it’s my job to protect all of us.”

Well, shit, when you put it like that, I don’t envy him right now. But I do trust him.

I’d trust Enzo with my life.

CHAPTER SIX

AURORA

Why is it so fucking loud? It’s never this loud in the after. After the beating, after the cutting, after the torture. He leaves, and it’s peaceful. So, what the fuck is all the clattering and beeping and why, even with my eyes closed, is it so fucking bright? He always keeps the basement dark.

“Turn it off…” I groan out. But my voice breaks, growing raspy, and the noise that escapes sounds more like air escaping from a punctured tyre.

“Please, make it stop. Turn it off,” I try again, but my words still sound distorted.

The beeping is getting faster, and it’s disorienting. I hear footsteps all around me and hands trying to touch me, making me jump and flinch. I’m not restrained, not tied down like usual. When I startle, I lose my balance and begin to tumble off something, making me cry out in panic.

There’s a sharp pain in my arm, and then something breaks my fall. It’s warm, but solid. It’s unfamiliar.

That’s when my voice kicks into gear and once I start screaming, I can’t stop.

This isn’t right. Nothing is the same. Everything feels different, and every sense I have is telling me not to open my eyes. What if he's still there, and it's not over yet? What if he’s not there, and this is something else? Something new. What if Dad’s body is still hanging in front of my face?

No. I don’t like it. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!

There’s another stinging pain in my arm, and then the beeping subsides. The shuffling noises quieten. The light fades.

This is better. Everything is numb.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ENZO

“Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!”

Aurora’s screams are relentless. I got to her just in time, as she was sliding to the floor from the gurney. She’s ripped out her IV, leaving a fresh wound and a trail of blood streaking down her arm. I don’t want to hurt her by holding too tight, but I don’t want her to hurt herself either.

“Hold her steady,” Doc Em commands. She seizes a syringe and gives Aurora something to calm her down. It works fast. Her body relaxes, shoulders dropping and the mask of pain slipping away. Aurora passes out again, sinking back and allowing me to release her on to the bed and take a step back.

“What the fuck was that?” I demand.

“Her coma was self-induced. When she came round, she was confused and disoriented. I didn’t want to give her anything other than pain meds until we had more information on her injuries. Hand me that bag on the chair. I need to give her something else before she wakes up again.”

Judging by her agitated huffs, Aurora’s condition is hitting Doc Em hard, but she’s holding it together. She’s doing a better job of that than me.

I toss her the bag, trying to take a deep breath to calm myself down. The door swings open with a sharp bang and Sinclair crashes through, shouting at the top of his lungs, “What the fuck is going on?”

I barrel into him and push him back against the wall. With all the restraint I can muster, I grind out, “Take a breath and reign yourself in. She came round and was confused. Doc Em gave her something and now we’re going to carry on treating her. Do you think charging in like a bull would have helped the situation? What the fuck are you doing? I expect this shit from Nico and Benny, but you? Walk it off and don’t come back until you can control yourself, Sin.” He nods, but to be sure, I grab him by the collar and hoist him out into the corridor, shutting the door in his face.

For fuck’s sake. Sin is supposed to be the stable one. I straighten my henley and return to the gurney.

“You drama queens about done?” Doc Em smirks. “Take this and clean the wound while I get a new IV in,” she says, handing me antiseptic, gauze, and med tape. I get to work. It’s hard to focus. Every time my eyes wander across her skin, I find a new bruise, a different scar. There’s an ache in my chest that grows with every mark I find. Pull it together.

“Cut us some slack, Katerina?—”

“Cut me some fucking slack, Enzo,” she snaps, her voice thin but her hands steady as she focuses on the new IV site. Her professionalism wins out until she secures the cannula and then I watch as she releases a shaky breath before rubbing her temples in slow, small circles.

“Of course,” I concede, realising that Doctor Katerina Mancini is finding this more than a little difficult. She wasn’t just close with Isabella, Aurora was like her little sister, forever tagging along after them. Given her connection to the Bianchis, she’s called in frequently for family emergencies. Mostly, it’s bullet wounds and patch up jobs far beneath the talents of a surgeon of her calibre. From the pained look on her face, it doesn’t look like it’s easy working on those you know and love.

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