Page 159 of Dangerous King
"Mr. Sartori," he says, eyeing the monitor. "You've been watching that screen like it owes you money."
"It does," Enrico growls. "Now tell me she's fine."
Dr. Mirani sighs, steps around the bed, and glances at the readouts. "No fractures. No concussion. Her vitals are steady. The sutures look good, though the area's tender and will remain so for a while."
"Definea while," Enrico snaps.
"A week of soreness, maybe more. She needs rest, fluids, and antibiotics. The site needs to be monitored for signs of infection, swelling, redness, and fever. If anything changes, she comes straight back."
"She's not leaving yet," Enrico says. "Not until I say she's ready."
I roll my eyes. "Can I have the report, too, or do only men with veins full of rage get information?"
Mirani chuckles. "You're clear to move carefully. No sudden motions. No stress."
"Right. Let me just cancel my entire life," I mutter.
The doctor gives me a sympathetic look. "I'll come back to discharge you when you're ready."
He walks out, and Enrico immediately turns back to me, arms crossed like he's about to start laying down new ground rules.
I beat him to it. "So. Now that I'm officially not dying…"
"No."
"You haven't even heard?—"
"You're not going," he says flatly.
I meet his eyes without blinking. "Then bring him to me."
Against my better judgment, two hours later, we're at the warehouse. If Sabine hadn't died, I'd have tied Cat to my bed, but she has a right to be here. As it is, it's been nearly twenty-four hours since the bombing, and we need answers. We need to know who hired Ledyanoy Prizrak and why.
That bomb was meant for Cat and me. It would have gone off the moment we cut the cake, and that thought makes me fucking furious. That someone dared to want my wife dead is not something I can tolerate for a second longer. Whoever this bastard is, he will pay in blood and pain.
I don't believe in ghosts, but Ledyanoy Prizrak has a certain reputation, and I won't be able to rest until I have my answers from him, and he's dead.
Usually, I don't enjoy torturing people, but for him, I'll make an exception, just as I did with Giovanni. It'll be my pleasure to prolong his death. To have him bleed for what he's done.
"Ah, the bride and groom. To what?—"
Cat surprises me, cutting him off with a slap across the face. "You bastard. You killed my sister."
He blinks, confused. Blinks again. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Sabine," she bites out. "You used her. Lied to her. And then you killed her."
He shrugs. "I told her I was an undercover cop building a case against the Sartori family. That she could help expose you. That if she did, she'd walk away clean."
"And she believed you?" she chokes.
"She wanted to believe me," he says. "People like her—jealous, insecure, eager to matter—they don't need much. I gave her just enough. A badge I lifted off a real agent. A fake name. A mission."
Cat flinches like he hit her.
"She thought she was saving the world," he goes on, smooth as oil. "Said she wanted you to suffer. That she was tired of standing in your shadow. She let me walk in the back door, no questions asked."
Fucking Sabine. If she wasn't dead already, I'd kill her. What in the hell was she thinking? Well, obviously, she wasn't thinking. She was driven by her own jealousy.
