Page 50 of Broken Princess

As I look up, I see Benny jogging towards me. “We need to head back. There’s something I need to work on back at the house. You get the job done?”

He nods. “Yep. Sheds A through D, and F through G, all demolished. You sure the owners won’t mind I’ve left craters?”

I smile. “I’m sure they will. The job was from their competitor.”

I can see that the other car is gone as we pull into the driveway, and it makes me uneasy. I should be there. I should have Zo’s back. We’ve never faced anything like this, and it leaves an acrid taste in my mouth that burns every time I swallow. With Aurora under our protection, the stakes are impossibly high. If anything were to happen to her because of our negligence—well, it doesn’t bear thinking about. We cannot fail her.

I make my way back to my office and start trawling through the information on the latest body. At some point Benedict must have popped in, as there’s a hot cup of coffee on my desk now, but I don’t recall him being here. I zone out when I’m working. The hum of my machines lulls me into a trance and my focus sharpens.

No matter how much digging I do, what I need is not in the Medical Examiner’s files. Either the servers haven’t refreshed or they’re keeping information back so it can’t be leaked. Which would imply they are working under the assumption that this is a serial killer and have classified information behind a firewall I haven’t hacked yet. Fuck.

It wouldn’t be difficult for me to hack. Not much is beyond my skills. It’d just take time and focus I don’t have right now. However, it would be faster to see for ourselves. I pick up the cup of coffee and sit back in my chair.

No point going now. We’ll have to wait until the night shift. After searching through the personnel records, security in the Medical Examiner’s office looks to be minimal overall, but from the looks of the scheduling, it’s a skeleton staff at night. That’s our best bet.

I head to the kitchen in search of Benedict, but shockingly, I don’t find him with his head buried in the fridge. He’s not in any of the communal areas either. Heading down to the basement, I find him in the interrogation room. He’s set himself up on the corner with Nico’s tattoo gun.

“Nico’s gonna be pissed when he finds you’ve been playing with his toys,” I say, leaning over to see what he’s working on. “And he’s going to be even more pissed you didn’t ask him to mark you.”

“I’m just brightening up the colours. I was getting restless waiting for them.”

He’s focussed on touching-up the shading here and there on his left forearm. Without looking up, he continues, “Sorry about unloading on you in the car.”

“It’s okay. You care about her.”

His gaze darts up and his eyes betray him. He’s nervous, but he honestly doesn’t need to be.

“Listen, whatever is going on with Aurora and me? That’s between us, but whatever you feel for her—or her and Nico. That’s between you guys.”

His expression shifts to one of confusion.

“That woman has survived hell. She can have whatever she needs from me, for however long she needs it. Whatever, and whoever, she needs—is hers.”

Benedict’s entire demeanour alters as the weight of my words settles on him. His posture softens and his shoulders drop, like the worry is seeping out of him.

I mean every word. I would do anything for Aurora, and I can see in Benedict’s eyes he would, too. He loves her, and even though I don’t understand to what extent, I feel no jealousy.

I meant what I said. I don’t expect a happily ever after with Aurora. But whatever I can say or do to ensure she gets hers, I will do.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

AURORA

The buildings flit past the window in a blur. I catch a glimpse of my reflection every time a dark silhouette in the street turns the car window into a mirror. It’s not me I see staring back. Well, it is me, but at a glance, in this wig, I look alarmingly like my sister. From the furtive looks Zo is casting at me in the rearview, it’s evident my appearance is throwing him off too. He has a haunted expression that sends uneasy chills through my body.

While we were very similar in appearance, as soon as she was old enough, she had dyed her ebony hair red. The only wig Nico could find at short notice was from a nearby sex shop as part of a dominatrix costume—a mid-length auburn wig with rich burgundy lowlights frames my face while allowing me to hide behind a heavy curtain of bangs. I’m impressed with his ingenuity on such short notice.

It’s my first time leaving the house in weeks, and I’m more nervous than I thought I would be. I thought I’d feel more comfortable in a disguise, but in the muted light of the tinted glass, the spectre of my sister unsettles me.

Before we left, Sinclair had text Zo about a potential lead relating to my sister’s death. I’d been surprised to learn that my father had people investigating her death still. Despite all these years, he persisted. I lost hope years ago, but that wasn’t because I gave up on her, it was because once I married Max, I gave up on everyone.

I didn’t have the capacity to hope for anyone other than myself. It was the only way I survived.

That thought makes me feel selfish. My father and these men dedicated themselves to finding Isa’s killer, while I was consumed by my own survival.

I’ll never forget the day my father told me Isa had been murdered. I was eleven years old when she died and as soon as the words passed my father’s lips, my childhood died along with her. My loving, outgoing, gentle sister had her life snuffed out and dumped in a filthy back alley. Tortured and left for dead.

My father only told me she had been murdered, but in the days and weeks that followed, as Mateo Bianchi mobilised an army of his foot soldiers to hunt down the monster that killed her, I overheard plenty.

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