The Sleeping Prince
Time crawled by in a haze. The days passed and the weeks blurred into one another. Now it’s been four weeks since the auction. Four weeks since the gunfire, four weeks since he had been wheeled into the ICU.
Adriano's had survived the worst since his surgery, and though his body had grown strong enough for the doctors to move him out of intensive care, his eyes had yet to open. And that weighed heavily on everyone.
The doctors reassured them this wasn’t a coma. Every so often Adriano groaned faintly, the sound a little more than a whisper, or his fingers twitched as if reaching for something unseen. Signs that he was still there, trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. “His brain is protecting him,” the attending physician explained once, “When the body takes such a massive hit, sometimes the brain protects itself by staying unconscious. Think of it as a defense mechanism—his body is healing, buying itself time. The groans, the twitching of his fingers… those are good signs that he’s still in there. He’ll wake when his body decides it’s safe enough to let him.”
Hope, even in the smallest gestures. That was all they had to hold onto.
Don Raffaele called every few days, his voice clipped and restless over the phone, demanding updates. Alessandro and Gabriele carried the weight of responsibility, rotating shifts at Adriano’s bedside, ensuring no threat reached him even within the hospital walls.
But Diamond… Diamond never left. She became a fixture in that sterile room, always at Adriano’s side, whispering things into his ear, holding his hand, watching for those tiny movements that meant hope wasn’t lost. Each time his lips parted in a faint groan, each time his fingers twitched, she was there. And during those long hours, she didn’t so much as glance at Alessandro or Gabriele.
At first, they tried to ease her into conversation, to break the silence between them. But she didn’t just ignore them—she looked through them, as though they were nothing more than shadows in the room. Two weeks of that cold indifference wore them down, until finally, they stopped trying. They gave her space, and she gladly took it.
Now, four weeks later, the cabin of a private jet hummed softly around them. The private jet had been converted into a medevac transport, stocked with medical equipment and an intensive care nurse to keep watch of Adriano during the flight. He lay strapped to the bed, his chest rising and falling steadily, machines monitoring the rhythm of his fragile recovery.
The brothers sat nearby, tense but quiet, while Diamond remained where she had been from the beginning. Close enough to catch Adriano’s hand whenever she felt the faintest flicker of life.
They were finally going back to New York. Where Il Serpente Dorato was untouchable, where Adriano would be safest.
Once they landed, he was carefully transported to his villa, guards posted at every entrance as Alessandro ordered round-the-clock protection. A private medical team was hired to oversee his care, discreet and loyal to the family.
Rosalia’s ruby necklace, too precious and dangerous to leave exposed, was taken by Alessandro and locked away in his personal safe. A reminder of what they’d all risked their lives for.
And as for Diamond… New York had brought her back to the ghosts of her own unfinished war. Chelsea’s last gift to her. The only piece of evidence that could expose Charles, was still waiting in a bank safety deposit box. It was proof that could bring down the head of the FBI, a man who hid behind the law and justice while crawling in bed with criminals. One day soon, she would retrieve it, and she would destroy him.
But not yet. Not today.
For now, she wanted only to sit beside the man who put his life in danger, the man who took a bullet to the heart…
To save her.