Page 179 of I'm sorry, Princess

I slam into his back, but I shove, slipping past him before he can stop me. He curses under his breath and opens the door to block my view, but it’s too late. A groan echoes from inside, a voice I know too well.

‘What the fuck happened?’ Lev snaps.

And then I see.

I freeze. My breath catches.

My father.

Tied to a chair. Face a bloodied mess, swollen and unrecognizable. His chest heaves, ragged breaths tearing through him, and my stomach lurches.

And in front of him, fists crimson, eyes blazing, Lorenzo.

“No!” I scream, my voice raw, strangled with horror. Tears blur my vision as I thrash against Lev’s grip, but he holds me back, his arms iron around me.

Lorenzo turns.

And for a heartbeat, everything stops.

His icy blue eyes meet mine. Not the eyes of the man who danced with me in Florence. Not the eyes that softened when he whispered he loved me. These are the eyes of a stranger. Cold. Blank. Rage burning so deep it eclipses every trace of the man I love.

Blood drips from his knuckles, painting his skin in my father’s shame. His chest rises and falls like a predator caught mid-kill.

And for the first time, I don’t recognize him.

The man I love is gone.

And all that’s left is a monster.

Lorenzo looks at Lev, stunned, and in that split second I shove Lev aside and stumble forward. My knees nearly give out when I see him.

My father.

Slumped in the chair. His face… God, his face. Swollen, bruised, cut open in places I can’t even look at for too long without wanting to scream. I drop to my knees, hands trembling, trying to move the chair, to free him, to do anything. But he’s too heavy, his body limp, head lolling.

“Dad?” My voice cracks, the word catching like glass in my throat. “Dad, please—”

His head turns toward me, just barely. A groan rips out of him, wet and broken. “Serena… please… leave.”

And I break.

Tears spill down my cheeks as I throw my arms around him, pressing my face to his chest, ignoring the sticky warmth of blood soaking through my dress. My knees slip against the concrete floor, sliding into something wet. When I glance down, the world tilts.

John.

His body lies sprawled across the floor, his lifeless eyes staring wide open at the ceiling. A hole in his skull. Brains painted across the ground. My stomach heaves, bile rising, and I vomit right there, choking on sobs.

Andres is suddenly at my side, trying to hold me up, but I shove him away. “Don’t touch me!” My voice is raw, shredded. I turn on Lorenzo, my tears blinding me, my whole body shaking. “What is this? Why is John dead, and why is my father,” my chest collapses, the sob cutting me in half. “Why is he like this? Why are you doing this?”

He just stares at me. Unfazed. Hollow. Like he’s carved out his own humanity and left only stone.

“Is this because of me?” I scream. “Because of the wedding? Because of Ian?!”

Lev’s face hardens. Andres looks away, shame in his eyes. But Lorenzo, Lorenzo is unreadable, his face a perfect mask.

Finally, his voice cuts through the chaos, deep and cold. “Your father did more than try to take you away from me, Serena.” He pauses, his gaze like a blade. “He’s lucky he’s not the one with a bullet between his eyes.”

He nods at Andres, and together with Lev they cut the ropes from my father’s wrists. His body slumps forward into me, dead weight, and I catch him, hugging him as tightly as I can. My dress is scarlet already, but now it’s drenched in blood, soaking me with every shudder of his breath.