Page 47 of Devilish Prince

I hang up the phone and return my gaze to the gardens below me. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to relax my mind and prepare for what lies ahead when we return in two weeks. My father will expect me back and I'll meet with him and his associates to discuss our strategy for expanding my territory. He hasn't handed over the reins yet, but he will, and when he does, I will have more power and reach than he ever did, or his father before him.

As I turn to head back inside, I catch a glimpse of Sofia through the window. She's still lying in bed, staring blankly at the wall. I feel no sympathy for her; she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to marry me, even if she agreed merely out of a desire to do what was right for her brother. The life of a mafia princess isn't for the faint of heart, after all, but I know she haswhat it takes inside of her. She just has to see the benefits of it, and when we land in New York, she will. I'm counting on it. I won't wait forever for her to adjust to being my wife, learning to obey.

I will show her the power and respect that comes with being a mafia princess, and she will soon learn that there is a certain strength and confidence that comes with being in control of her own destiny. She will be taught the importance of loyalty and obedience, but also the value in making decisions for herself when necessary. I will not coddle her; instead, I will challenge her to be the best version of herself that she can be.

I have faith in Sofia's ability to adjust and thrive in this new life—if anyone can do it, she can. Still, I'm determined to do everything in my power to make sure she succeeds, and so I plan on making sure she is off to the best start. Kline has already put the measures in place. Now she just has to walk into them.

31

SOFIA

The plane taxis from the runway toward the terminal. Ever since Lorenzo told me we were returning to New York, my spirits had been higher. For the last two weeks I’ve been bedridden, lethargic, and depressed. Though, Lorenzo seems to understand that he may have claimed my body as his, but my heart and soul were tarnished in the exchange. I’m not myself and I won’t be until I see that Calvin is okay.

“Can we go to him right away?” I ask, staring out the window at the passing trucks and planes on the tarmac. Our plane rolls up to the jetway and stops and the passengers breathe a collective sigh, knowing the journey is over. The ten-hour flight wasn’t terrible, but I’m ready to be off the plane and stretch my legs.

Lorenzo remains stoic and speechless. He’s been sour with me since our wedding night when I offered my body for his pleasure but didn’t fight back. I know he’s not pleased with me, but I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. Everything feels like a struggle and I just want to get this over with. He got what he wants, and now for as long as I can tolerate it he will have it.

We reach the terminal and grab our bags. Lorenzo leads me toward the exit, his grip on my arm tight and unyielding. He strides purposefully, as if he knows exactly where we’re going and how to get there. I tire and slow, then I trail behind, my mind spinning with thoughts of Calvin and the ordeal that awaits us when we arrive at his hospital room. The time away from him has been restful, but I want to be close to him now.

As we exit the airport, the sweltering New York air hits me like a ton of bricks. I pant, regretting not bringing a bottle of water. Lorenzo doesn't seem to notice and keeps walking, pulling me along with him. We make our way to the parking lot where our car awaits us. Lorenzo opens the door for me, and I slide into the back seat, grateful for the air-conditioning in the car. The mediterranean was so nice I almost forgot how stifling the city can be, and congested too. Smog pollutes the air making it difficult to breathe.

Lorenzo climbs in after me, and the driver starts the car and pulls out of the lot. The only sound between us is the hum of the engine and the occasional honking from other cars. My mind drifts back to Calvin and the accident that put him flat on his back. I lost so much more than my family that day. I lost my identity, who I am, what I want. My drive to achieve left me, and now I don't know who I am—besides Calvin's caretaker and Lorenzo's sex toy. Maybe he thinks I'm more, but I will never feel like it. That type of man uses people. I'll never be anything more.

I try to shake off the thoughts, but they cling to me like a thick layer of dust. Lorenzo notices my discomfort and places a hand on my knee, rubbing it gently. I flinch at the contact, not wanting to be touched by him. But Lorenzo doesn't seem to care. He leans in, his breath hot on my neck, and whispers in my ear, "I can't wait to get you back in my bed."

My stomach churns at his words, and I push his hand away from my knee. "Not now, Lorenzo," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I want to see Calvin." I grit my teeth, holding back the urge to scream at him. Lorenzo doesn't understand what I'm going through. He's never been in a situation like this. He's never had to watch someone he loves wither away in front of him. He's never had to give up his dreams to be a caretaker.

Lorenzo pulls back, his expression turning sour. "Fine," he says, his tone cold and clipped. "But don't forget who takes care of you. Who pays for everything."

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath before responding. "I haven't forgotten," I say, my voice steady. "But that doesn't mean I owe you anything. You chose to take care of me and Calvin. That was your decision."

The car falls into silence once again, tension thick in the air. I stare out the window, watching as the city passes by in a blur. Relief untangles the knot in my stomach when I see the hospital come into sight. I'm grateful for the distraction that Calvin provides from my tumultuous thoughts. He's the only one who truly needs me, and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure he's comfortable.

We park in the parking garage and make our way into the hospital. The trial is being hosted in the educational wing, where our younger interns and residents receive their training before doing rounds. The foundation brought in some of the best doctors in the world to try these new treatments, and I'm hopeful that Calvin will finally begin regaining some motor function.

Lorenzo leads the way now, as if he knows exactly where he’s going. I’ve worked in this hospital and visited this wing moretimes than I can count, but I don’t know where Calvin is, so I follow him, gripping his bicep. We pass a cluster of doctors hovering over a computer screen, then the nurses station where friendly banter is taking place, and finally we head down the patient hallway. We pass room after room where the doors are shut or curtains drawn, and when Lorenzo ducks into a room, my heart flutters.

He slides the curtain back to reveal a few nurses and a doctor I don’t recognize standing over a bed where Calvin sits upright. My hand drifts upward to cover my slack jaw as he turns his head to look at me and smile—something he previously couldn’t do.

“My god,” I mutter and push past Lorenzo and the Asian doctor who has his back toward me. He scoots to the side as I plop on the edge of Calvin’s bed and take his hand. “Oh my god…” I say, more loudly.

Calvin beams with pride as he asks, “How was the honeymoon?” as if it were the most natural thing to say.

“What? My god, Cal, look at you.” His chest strap is in place, but it’s not lashing him down the way it used to. “You can sit? You can turn your head?” I glance at the doctor who is smiling and nodding. He bows at the shoulder and I turn back to Cal.

“It’s great, right?” I haven’t seen him this happy in months, a year maybe.

“How? Oh god…” I’m overtaken with joy, unable to speak.

“Ms. Carter, I presume?” The doctor walks around where I can see his face and extends his hand. His accent is thick, but I understand him. Lorenzo stands near the curtain, not venturingfarther into the room. I take the doctor's hand and grasp it lightly.

“Dr. Carter, yes.”

“My name is Dr. Ayaka Kaneko. I am the head of neurology for the University of Tokyo Hospital.” He bows as he says it and I’m confused. His name isn’t on the roster of doctors involved in this study. “I am overseeing your brother Calvin’s recovery and he is making vast improvements.”

Still not understanding, I turn to Calvin who fills in the gaps. “There was a large grant, in the amount of ten million dollars, supplied to Bellevue two weeks ago, the day after your wedding. The board voted; they offered to give those funds to research into neurological advancements in the field of paralysis and brain stem injuries.” He beams and tears well up. “They hired Dr. Kaneko to come all the way here to administer the trial treatments, and I was awarded a scholarship in your honor to undergo further testing. It’s working, Sofi…” He blinks and tears stream down his cheeks.

I can’t help but feel my own emotion well up at the sight and begin crying as I cover my mouth again. My heart is bursting with joy and love, and I can only think of one person with that much power and money who would care enough to do this.

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