Page 47 of Virginity Sold

Taking a breath, we step into the room, and my heart feels like a knife has been stuck straight through it.

She’s broken. That’s the nicest way of putting it. Her face is swollen black and blue and she has a bandage over her nose. Her arm is in a temporary cast and she looks deathly white.

Kyrian pushes past me, rushing to her bedside, taking her hand gingerly in his as he leans over and kisses her forehead. His breath hitches and I know he’s crying.

Of my nephews, Kyrian is the one most like my beautiful sister, Mary. Caring and sweet. When he loves, he loves hard. It’s why I always debated if he was able to make the cut in the family business and never pushed him to join—even though it’s his birthright.

But seeing this woman I know he loves, lying in the bed, may be the thing that pushes him over the edge and turns him into the killer that Killian and I already are.

“Do we have a lead on who did this? Was it her parents?” Killian whispers in my ear, but as I glance over at him, I see his eyes are on her.

“No. John has his team watching her house, the airport, bus, and train stations. He’s watching the abandoned house himself. If they try to leave, we’re going to catch them. But it could be something totally different. She could’ve merely walked in on a home invasion.”

We both go quiet after that. Killian leaves my side and goes to the other side of the bed, carefully cradling the fingers of her casted arm in his hand.

Neither of them speaks to each other. Instead, they’re focused on the steady but faint rise and fall of her chest, telling us that she’s breathing.

Seeing her broken, knowing how I thought of her and how I ended the weekend, has me feeling like shit. I’m Liam fucking Sartori, and I let her leave to end up like this. I didn’t protect her. It doesn’t matter whether she was my submissive or not.

I wanted her to be.

Fuck! I wanted her to be my submissive and I let my hatred for her father cloud my feelings for her. Blaming her and ready to use her to make him pay, even when she confessed to Killian she hadn’t seen him in years—how he abused her as a child.

Shame spreads through me and I feel like I’m suffocating. I need to get out of here. I need to find who did this to her and make them pay.

“I’ll be back, boys. If you need to leave, call one of the men to sit at her door. She’s not to be left alone in case the fucker who did this to her comes back to make sure she never identifies them.” I take one final look at my little mouse and turn, leaving the room. Rage is taking over now, and I need to find an outlet.

I went to the gym and punched the bag until I was exhausted, then showered and drove around for the next two hours. Every part of me wanted to go back to the hospital to be with Elena, but I let her down. I failed her and my family.

The only positive thing to happen since leaving the hospital is the phone call I just got from John. No one’s gone back to the house on the outskirts of town or to Elena’s home, but he did find a room rented in Elena’s grandmother's name. The very one who’s dead. He hasn’t physically laid eyes on who’s in the room, but he’s watching from a distance.

Heading up the elevator of the hospital, I feel dread. I’ve been in touch with the boys since I left and nothing’s changed. She hasn’t woken once since they’ve been here.

As I stop by the nurse’s station to speak with the firecracker to get an update on Elena, she’s already talking to Killian. As luck would have it, the doctor is standing there.

“There’s been no change, same as I told her fiance in the room and now his brother when he asked again a few moments ago. There’s still swelling on her brain, and if it doesn't resolve, the neurosurgeon already said the next step is trepanning.”

“What the hell is that?” Killian blurts.

“We would go in and drill a hole in her skull to her dura mater to relieve the pressure,” the doctor states very matter of factly.

“You’re going to put a fucking hole in her skull? That’s insane.” Killian runs his hands through his hair, pulling on the tips, something he only does when upset or frustrated. I place my hand on his shoulder as I step beside him.

“Yes.” The doctor doesn’t even acknowledge Killian’s outburst. “And until she wakes up, we won’t know if she’ll have any other issues, like changes in her personality, post-traumatic epilepsy, or any number of other cognitive and physical disabilities.” He turns his head to me. “I’m sorry that I can’t tell you anything else, except to hope for the best.” He presses his lips together and the corner of his mouth lifts somewhat as his eyebrows pull inward, his expression serious but sympathetic simultaneously.

I thank the doctor before he picks up his chart and leaves, heading off down the hallway.

“She could wake up and be perfectly fine. Doctors always give you the worst case scenario.” The firecracker from earlier reaches out and gives my arm a comforting squeeze.

“Thank you.” We go to step away, but I stop as Killian continues towards Elena’s room. “Can you have your billing office come to the room? I want to ensure the bill is paid and she gets top notch care.”

“Yes sir,” she says, a slight smile forming on her face, telling me all I needed to know. Elena has no insurance and her care would be impacted by that. I don’t care what they say. It’s true. I know if it came down to a pricey procedure to save her life or waiting to see if it gets better, the hospital would wait.

I make my way down the hallway, passing nurses and doctors as I go, huddled up together, whispering—either about their patients or the Sartori family present in their hospital.

Opening the door, I see the boys sitting beside the bed.

“Why don’t you boys go down to the cafeteria and get us something to eat.”

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