Broken Princess (The Bianchi Chronicles Book 1), page 18
“You doing okay with all this, Benny?” I try to ask as nonchalantly as possible, very much missing the mark as I watch his posture stiffen. Before I have the chance to prompt him about his father, he punches the steering wheel and I’m hit with an unexpected tirade.
“You’d better do right by her, Sinclair. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re playing at, but that woman has been through enough. She’s not some nameless fuck. You better look after her or I swear to fucking Christ, Nico will have to pull me off of your cold dead corpse when I’m done with you.”
Where the fuck did that come from?
“You about done?”
Benny looks just as surprised by his outburst as I am.
“I meant, are you okay with the fact we’re going to go after your father? But it would seem we have something else we need to discuss.” I bristle at this. Like fuck do I wanna sit with a twenty-something and discuss my sex life. I’m too old for this bullshit. However, we are brothers-in-arms, and it would seem I underestimated Benedict’s interest in Aurora.
So did he, apparently.
His face is bright red. I'm unsure if it's rage or embarrassment, but either way, it appears to grip him tight and render him speechless. He keeps opening and closing his mouth, like he has lost the thread of his previous rant.
“Okay then.” I draw out my words, trying to figure out where I’m going with this. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is,” he makes a move to interrupt me, but I hold up a hand to stop him in his tracks, “but you have every right to be concerned about her safety. However, it is not your place to question my honour. You know me better than that.”
He doesn’t speak and I see him nod out of the corner of my eye as I glare at the white lines whizzing past the window as we drive.
“I know I would never intentionally hurt her, but I don’t have a clue what she wants from me…” I can’t think of what else I can say to convince him of my intentions.
“Are you guys, like, together now?” he asks in a meek voice.
His question takes me aback. It's not because he asked, but rather because I'm unsure how to respond. So, I hedge. “Look, I don’t know. It’s not like we’ve had a moment to talk about it. When I woke up this morning, the meeting had already started, everyone was there and then I had to come straight out with you. I don’t know what we are, and I’m not being funny, but the person I want to talk to about it first, ain’t you.”
“Fair,” he grunts out after a few moments. “Look, I don’t know where that all came from, but… just… look after her.”
That’s all he says before an uncomfortable silence settles over us. There’s only five minutes to our destination, and every one of them is awkward as fuck.
It didn’t take long to get the body in the incinerator, and Benedict seems to be catharting the fuck out of his mood by blowing up various small sheds throughout the property. He’ll be a while, so I take out my phone and pull up my message thread with Aurora. I slowly scroll back through the messages from the last few days and as I’m reading, my phone buzzes, making me jump while the screen flicks to the new incoming message.
Hummingbird:
Soooo…
Another one pops up almost immediately.
Hummingbird:
Last night…
Three dots. No dots. Three dots again.
Hummingbird:
…please respond and select option
a) was fun
b) was a mistake
or c) never happened
I laugh out loud. Only Aurora could inject so much of her personality into her texts.
But then I realise she’s giving me an out, and I hate that. It wasn’t a mistake, I don’t regret it and I can’t wish it never happened. She’s worth so much more than that.
a) was fun.
I’m sorry we didn’t have time to talk this morning.
Hummingbird:
No worries, I’m sorry you woke up alone. I needed coffee, and I didn’t want to wake you.
You don’t need to apologise. I understand how out of hand your caffeine addiction is in the mornings.
Will you be there when we get back?
Hummingbird:
We’re heading out in ten. Talk later?
Count on it, hummingbird.
Shit. I was hoping to be back before they head out to see Manny and Stefano. Bodies never burn as quick as you think they will. Guess it’s time to track down our resident fire-starter. As I’m setting off across the back of the industrial factory yard towards the perimeter when another alert comes through. Expecting to receive another message from Aurora, I’m surprised to see an alert from the subroutine I have monitoring the local police channels.
MurderBot:
ALERT > John Doe
If any murder victim matches Isabella’s autopsy results in these categories, I’m notified. Age, sex, location, unusual or ritualistic marks, etcetera. I click to open and see that we have another body with ‘unusual markings from an unidentified weapon’. I need to get back to my laptop and see what I can uncover in the Medical Examiners digital files. I need to know what these marks look like.
My criteria are broad, and I’ve received thousands of these alerts in the years we’ve been investigating. These leads rarely end up going anywhere, but it’s unprecedented to have two bodies with “unusual markings” discovered within days of each other.
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.
I hid in the shadows, sneaking about the house to glean any piece of information I could. Thinking back, that was the first time I realised my natural talent for reconnaissance. However, they found nothing and over time, I accepted that we would never discover who took her away from us. I assumed my father had given up, too.
Isa was nine years older than me and after my mother died, she was my entire universe. She became both my sister and my confidant. We shared every secret we had with each other. I glance up at Zo in the rearview mirror and he’s looking at the road. We need to talk about my sister’s death. I need to know if he’s uncovered things I don’t know.
If I know things, he doesn’t.
“We’re here,” Nico says, pulling me out of my thoughts. As morbid as they are, it’s oddly refreshing to have something to think about other than the monumental clusterfuck we’re currently trying to navigate.
We’re meeting Manny and Stefano in the basement of a parking garage in the city. Fuck knows if it’s a good idea. Whether we meet in a densely populated area, or in the woods, the risks are still monumentally large if I’m seen. If the De Lucas find out I’m alive, they’ll murder me and anyone with me.
Zo pulls into a space and turns around in the front seat to take me in. His expression is serious, his tone authoritative yet reassuring. It soothes me. “Stay in the car until one of us comes to get you. I need to check if it’s safe first and get a feel for Manny and Stefano before we share what we know. Nico, you run the perimeter and keep your eyes on the car.”
I nod and let out a breath. Feeling protected. Every one of Zo’s men makes me feel safe, but Enzo… makes me feel protected in a way I cannot explain. His words inspire absolute faith in his intentions and abilities.
He pops the door and heads out, Nico following his lead but taking a different route, scouring the layout and whipping through the parked cars, checking for anything out of place. From behind the darkened glass, I feel like a spectator—a bystander in my own story.
Enzo heads to the back of the lot and approaches a dark town car. The front doors open and two men I’ve known my entire life get out, cutting Zo off at the hood of the car.
The last time I saw Stefano was at my father’s house a few months ago. During one of my rare injury-free spells, I’d visited Dad for dinner and Stefano had been there when I arrived, going over some of the day-to-day issues. You know, thugs encroaching on territory, foot soldiers that needed an attitude adjustment by their capo. I’ve always had a lot of respect for him. He’s even tempered, hyper-rational, and has a naturally empathetic disposition that makes him the perfect consiglieri.
Manny has always been a highly-proficient underboss. His ability to wrangle the capos is impressive, and he’s always been fair with them. That’s probably the greatest compliment I can pay him. Other than that, he’s a misogynist pig that spends too much time sticking his dick where it doesn’t belong. Every interaction I’ve ever had with him since I turned sixteen has left a horrible taste in my mouth.
I watch their rigid, inexpressive faces as mouths move, but I can’t infer anything from their interaction. I wish I could read lips. A shadow moves in my peripheral vision, and I startle before Nico’s frame appears from behind the back of a panel van. A sudden gasp from Stefano and the jerk of Manny’s head to glance at the rear window I’m hiding behind, and I know Zo has told them.
Told them that my husband tried to kill me. They walk towards me and Zo nods, giving me the signal.
As they approach, I step out, brazenly projecting a strength I don’t feel. Feet planted firmly on the ground, shoulders back and head held high, I greet them with a nod. “Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to this meeting.”
Stefano takes in the fading bruises still very visible on my jaw and the cuts that are obvious, despite healing well. Although I avoid the mirror and I can feel the aches and pains, the guys never look at me the way Stefano is right now. The blatant shock etched into every line on his face takes me aback and reminds me of the reflection I so often forget.
It makes me feel like a victim.
Manny looks me up and down and turns back to Enzo. “I can see why you’ve been lying low recently, Enzo. I noticed your crew hadn’t been taking as many contracts and was getting suspicious. This explains it.” Turning his eyes back to me, I bristle at his business-like demeanour. “What happened?”
“I only told him you were here, and that you were attacked,” Zo says.
I nod, understanding that the rest is on me to explain. “I need to explain, but I need you not to interrupt me until I’m done. It will be tough to get it all out, but I’ll answer your questions afterwards.”
They both nod and I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing…
Starting from the day Max locked me in our basement, I cover everything up to the moment I stepped out of the car. As I talk, I can feel the anger radiating off Stefano while Manny remains cool, calm, and collected. Nodding at every revelation while Stefano either growls or grinds out another, “Motherfucker,” in response.
When I tell them about how Max killed my father, that’s the only time my breath hitches and they both cry out in shock. Stefano lets out an anguished cry while Manny brings his fist down on the roof of the car next to us with a loud bang. I tell them how he slit my father’s throat. How he mutilated his corpse.
What I don’t say is how I prayed to a God I no longer believe in that I would slip away as he cut into my father’s face. I don’t say that no matter how tightly I screwed my eyes shut, I still heard the knife scraping against my father’s skull.
Not only will I enjoy watching the light fade in my husband’s eyes as I kill him, but I will also take down every corrupt motherfucker that had a hand in helping him.
“If we are going to find out what’s coming next, we need support. The Bianchis. Family we can trust.” Stefano nods at my words. “We need your support if we’re going to go after the men—and I use that term loosely—that betrayed him.”
While Stefano is nodding, Manny holds up his hand. “Aurora, the severity of what you’ve been subjected to is obvious, and I would never doubt your word, especially when it relates to your father, but you’ve killed the only people who can corroborate that there is a larger conspiracy. If we’re going to garner the support of the family—challenge the status quo within The Syndicate—then we need more.”
