Page 19 of Broken Princess

“Then what?”

I hesitate, thinking about that day in the warehouse. I’m sick to my stomach remembering the weight of the chains. The sting of the knives. How I prayed to a god I’ve never believed in to simply let me die. Enzo’s silhouette approaches me and snaps me out of that memory. “He left at sunset and returned the next morning with my… dad. He was with us all day.”

“Thank you, Aurora,” he says as he tries to school his expression. But he’s too slow. I see the pity and I can’t bear it.

“I’m tired,” I say meekly, and roll over as best I can, turning away from him. Pulling the covers up, I hide in a cocoon of blankets and wish the world would swallow me whole. I don’t like this after. An after where someone else knows how far I’ve fallen, how broken I’ve become, how filthy I am.

“Sleep, guerrierotta,” he quietly responds and assumes his sentry position on his stool.

“I’m no warrior,” I reply in the barest of whispers. I feel like a failure. Like someone who has had everything taken from them.

My pulse quickens as I feel his breath on my ear as he utters, “Aurora Bianchi, you have been and will always be the most courageous woman I know. Never doubt my words. You may not feel like it right now, but you are a warrior. Una regina soprattutto.”

CHAPTER TEN

SINCLAIR

Enzo texts me to let me know Aurora is awake, and more worryingly, that Mateo is dead. While it was way too quick for my contact to get results on the DNA I’d given them, the longer Mateo was unreachable, the more likely it was that the other body was his.

I don’t really know how to process that. You know when something so big happens, your brain simply can’t comprehend the enormity of it? That’s this. Max, an underboss, killed a rival don. His fucking father-in-law. I’ve never heard of something like this happening in any family, certainly not in recent history.

But so many things don’t make sense. What’s their plan? Pin Aurora and Mateo’s death on a rival gang, and everyone falls into line? Then why get rid of the bodies? Don’t they need them for proof of death? That’s what makes no sense to me… how are they going to assume control of the Bianchi forces without that?

My head hurts.

I’m supposed to be the strategist in our group. A role that’s driven by educated deductions based on solid information. Only I can’t get any fucking information. My existing taps and traces have produced nothing. Unless you count Salvatore having a new mistress as useful information. Quite frankly, I don’t need to imagine that decrepit fossil screwing anyone, thanks. The fact she’s a Bianchi capo’s wife, though—that might come in handy.

I’ve tried hacking various capos and their minions in the De Luca family, but whatever Salvatore and Max are up to, they’re not sharing or they’ve covered their asses well. I have links into the Syndicate servers, but anything that would be useful to us is buried behind a firewall that’s currently kicking my ass.

My next route is hacking Bianchi sources. We can’t talk to any of the remaining Bianchi leadership in case we tip off the De Lucas, who are undoubtedly watching them.

Did I mention my head hurts?

Heading down to the kitchen for lunch, I find Benny with his head buried in the fridge. Shocker. He pops his head up and I bust him with half a sandwich hanging out of his mouth while he’s rummaging for his next snack.

“I’m not gonna lie, man. Sometimes you disgust me,” I say as I grimace at him.

Benny shrugs, unable to respond for fear of losing his sandwich. I love the guy, but it would be great if just once when I opened the fridge, half-eaten food and milk that I know he’s drunk straight from the carton didn’t greet me. It’s like living with a stray dog.

I grab the left-over pizza, whack on the oven, and chuck it in to reheat. I head upstairs for a shower, and by the time I’m back, it’s ready. It’s the best you can expect from safe house food, to be honest.

Heading downstairs, I’m greeted with an appreciative smile by Enzo when he sees the food I’m bringing him, but he quickly brings his finger to his lips. “She’s sleeping.”

“How was she when she came round this time?” I ask.

“Better. She’s talked some, gave me shit like the Aurora of old. Got a bit overwhelmed when she went over the timeline. Have you taken a look at it yet?”

“Yeah, it’s helped me focus some of my searches.”

I take his shoulder and pull him towards the door and essentially shove the pizza slice into his hand. “Eat, shower, and sleep. Everything I’m running will take time to compile. Come back in a few hours. I’ve got her until then.”

He goes to object, and I arch a brow at him. “Even if you don’t sleep, you need to go and deal with Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee. Nico’s getting restless and Benny will eat us out of house and home if he’s not given something to do soon.” I point at the door. “Take your pizza and go.”

He grabs a couple more slices and leaves.

I take the pizza with me across to a small couch we brought down earlier. It was meant to be for Enzo but apparently, he wouldn’t leave her bedside. That man may be a goddamn saint, but he’s also a martyr sometimes. I scarf down the pizza and pull out my e-reader. I could read History of Programming Languages, or I could read Tales from the Slaughtered Lamb. I’ll be staring at code for hours later, so a book where a group of misfits fight the neighbourhood monster infestation and plan their attack at the local pub, wins. Beer and monsters always win.

I don’t know how long I’m reading for, but I put my e-reader down when I hear her stirring.

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