Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains, illuminating the large, private suite meant for Raffaele’s sister. Pinky lay propped against soft pillows, dressed in pale silk pajama pants and a kimono-style robe. The faint scent of roses and antiseptic mingled in the air; it was luxurious but cold, like much of her life now. Though she was the mafia boss’s sister, lying in a hospital bed made her feel vulnerable—and impatient.

Alicia, her dedicated caregiver, entered quietly, carrying a tray of water, medicine, and a fresh robe. She moved with the care of someone who knew Pinky’s importance, not just as a ppatient because of the warning Katarina had given her. Not only was she here for Annabel, he had to assist with Pinky after strict threats from Raffaele.

“Good morning, Pinky,” she said softly.

Pinky’s dark eyes flickered open. She stared at the ceiling for a moment before turning toward the tray. “Morning.”

Alicia checked her pulse and temperature with efficiency and care. “You slept well.”

Pinky nodded, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. Despite her reputation, pain was still pain.

A few minutes later, Alicia helped her sit up and sip water slowly. Pinky’s gaze fell on the monitor beside the bed. The steady beep contradicted everything she felt inside.

Shortly after, Katarina entered. Pinky sat up more stiffly now, a guard at the door, Alicia standing by the door toll she was done.

“Let’s change your dressing, Princess.” Alicia said.

Pinky narrowed her eyes at the word princess, but didn’t object. She had been called worse. Alicia peeled back the bandage. Pinky clenched her fists.

“You’re healing well,” Alicai said, cleaning the wound. “No infection.”

“Make sure it stays that way,” Pinky replied quietly. The wound was painful, but she held her ground

Alicia guided Pinky into a wheelchair, and they moved to a chaise by the window. A glass of juice and crackers waited on a small side table. Pinky ate slowly, tasting nothing more than sweetness and salt.

Alicia asked, “Do you want to walk this afternoon?”

Pinky paused mid-bite. She stared out the window at the courtyard below, guards making their rounds, the neat hedges of the private garden.

“Yes. I demand it,” she said with clipped calm. “I’m not a child.”

Alicia met her gaze. “Okay. A few steps, only with assistance.”

Pinky nodded, putting her cup down with such finality Alicia thought she admitted defeat but Pinky hadn’t softened a bit.

After a brief rest, a physiotherapist arrived. Pinky sat at the edge of the bed. They had prepared for walking practice.

Pinky stood with effort. Her legs shook, but she took two steps before gripping the walker. Her abdomen protested sharply, and she gasped.

Alicia steadied her. “You’re doing well.”

Pinky said nothing. She didn’t want praise. At least not from any worker.
Another set of steps, slower this time. Pain spread, but she pushed. Her face tightened, but she kept walking. Alicia stood by, monitoring her vitals. She didn’t stop until Pinky herself slowed, needing to rest.

They returned her to her wheelchair after that. Pinky didn’t cry she simply inhaled, exhaled, and focused on feeling alive again.

In the quiet hours after, as her breathing settled, Pinky looked up at Alicia. She was pale, but a strange calmness was in her eyes.

“Tell him,” she said.

Alicia looked questioningly at her.

Pinky’s voice sharpened. “Raffaele. Tell him I’m awake. Tell him I demand to see him today.”

Alicia nodded. “I will.”

Pinky lay back, eyes drifting closed. She didn’t need to say more. That was enough.

Dinner was brought quietly, clear broth, soft bread, fruit. Pinky ate maybe half. She didn’t taste much. She didn’t speak much either.

Alicia sat with her, reading lines from a book, sharp business advice, odd recipes, stories of old Rome. Pinky only half listened. Her mind kept returning to Raffaele.

Alicia administered evening medication, Pinky asked from her bed, “You’ll wake me if he comes?”

Alicia answered softly, “Yes.”

Pinky lay there, eyes open. She stared at the ceiling fan turning slowly. She reflected on what had happened: the abduction, the surgery, the betrayal she’d set in motion. She hated herself for causing trouble for Annabel but Pinky had done well, too. She knew it must be bugging Raffaele too. Besides, he would have come check up on her and wouldn't have disappeared from the building.

Later, the lamp was dimmed. Alicia tucked Pinky in, smoothing the blanket over her shoulders. Pinky’s favorite stuffed toy—a small tiger—rested beside her. It had been her security blanket as a child; she liked having it close still.

Sleep came finally, restless, dreams flickering of halls, threats, whispers of betrayal, Annabel’s pale face. She woke once and pressed the bell.

Alicia came quickly.

Pinky’s voice came hushed, urgent. “Do me a favor…”

Alicia listened.

“I want lilies planted. White lilies. In Annabel’s garden.”

Alicia paused, then simply said, “I will tell Katarina.”

Pinky closed her eyes after that, a light tear escaping down her cheek.