Bad Move, Uncle. You Sent Your Princess to the Mob… Now Your Queen Runs It Novel

Chapter 12 The Jefferson Mountain Villa. The entire second floor had been converted into a high-tech ICU. Soren had specialized doctors pulling 24-hour shifts to keep Skylar stable. The lead surgeon stepped out, pulling off his mask. He looked exhausted as he addressed the group. "It's not good. The infection is causing a persistent high fever. Plus, she's got a cocktail of unknown narcotics in her system, which makes it dangerous to administer standard meds." "Worse, her mental state is fractured. She's suffering from severe C-PTSD. Even unconscious, her nervous system is in full red-alert.

She won't let her guard down." Everett's mother felt her heart break all over again. "What can we do for her?" The doctor sighed. "We need to ground her. Try bringing in people she trusts, people she loves. Talk to her. Try to pull her back from whatever hell she's reliving." Soren's face was like granite as he nodded. "Fine. If that's the play, I'm going in first." The nurse helped him into sterile scrubs before letting him into the room. Skylar was a ghost of her former self, hooked up to a dozen monitors and wrapped in layers of white gauze.

The only sound in the room was the rhythmic, clinical beep of the heart monitor. Soren sat by the bed, his eyes filled with soul-crushing sadness he looked at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her body coiled tight like a spring even in sleep. Her brow was furrowed in a permanent wince. Her lips moved in a frantic whisper. "No... please don't touch me... My uncle is Everett Wilder... he's coming for me... please..." Soren never thought he'd see the day when the princess would be reduced to this. Her spirit had been systematically crushed until there was nothing left but fear.

Soren-a man who once took a steel rod through the chest without a single tear-finally broke down and sobbed. He avoided the raw wounds on her wrist and gently took her hand. "Sky... it's Uncle Soren. I'm here, baby. I'm taking you home. You're safe now. I swear to God, no one is ever going to hurt you again." voice seemed to reach her. The tension in her face eased, and her whisper changed: "Uncle Soren... I want to go home..." e're already there, sweetheart. You're home. You're safe." He stayed by her side for thirty minutes. The second he stepped out, Everett's parents cornered him.

11:12 Bad Move, Uncle. You Sent Your Princess to the Mob... Now Your Queen Runs It. 57.9% Chapter 12 "How is she? Did she hear you?" Soren pulled off his mask and gave a stiff nod. "She's stabilized a bit. You guys should go in. Talk to her." "Yes, of course. We're going right now." Then she paused, her eyes full of shame. "Soren... I am so sorry for what Everett did. This is all on him. If he hadn't sent her there..." "Mrs. Wilder." Soren cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Save it. We're doing our own investigation. This is between the Jefferson family and Everett.

We're not holding you or your husband responsible." "But let's be crystal clear: if you try to get in our way, the old ties won't mean a damn thing." "The Jefferson line has been decimated. Skylar is all that's left. Her father was our mentor, our blood. We swore she'd never shed a tear, and look at her. We can't face his ghost like this. I hope you understand that." His father nodded grimly. "We won't stop you. Everett made his bed. He owes her a debt he can never repay." They suited up and disappeared into the ICU. Soren leaned against the wall and let out a long, heavy breath.

Suddenly, the house manager hurried over. "Soren, Everett is at the front gate. He's demanding to be let in." Soren's expression went from sad to murderous in a split second. "The son of a bitch actually has the balls to show up here." He signaled to the rest of the security team. They moved as one toward the gate. The Front Gate. Everett stood outside, his eyes locked onto the curtained window on the second floor. He knew she was right there. If he wasn't terrified of scaring her even more, he'd have burned the door down. Instead, he stood in the biting wind like a beggar.

Soren and a dozen armed men marched up to the iron gate. The air was thick with the scent of an impending gunfight. The second the gate creaked open, Soren buried a fist in Everett's jaw. 11.12 Bad Move Uncle You Sent Your Princess to the Mah Now Your Queen Buns It 59 6% "Stand down." He spat a mouthful of blood and looked Soren in the eye. "I need to see her." Soren looked like he wanted to rip Everett's throat out. If looks could kill, Everett would have been buried ten times over. "You did this to her, Everett! You!

And you have the goddamn nerve to show up here?" "From this second on, the Jeffersons and the Wilders are at war. You better start sleeping with one eye open, because we're coming for you." Everett didn't care about the threats. He only cared about the girl upstairs. "Soren, you can kill me tomorrow for all I care. But right now, I need to see Skylar. I need to know she's breathing." Soren snarled a curse, but was interrupted by a nurse screaming from the porch. "Soren! Ms. Jefferson is crashing! Her vitals are tanking! Get in here now!" Soren turned and bolted for the house.

Everett was right on his heels. His parents were pacing frantically outside the ICU door. Soren rounded on them, his voice a roar. "You were just in there! What did you say to her?! Why the hell is she crashing?!" His mother was shaking, tears streaming down her face. "We just told her she was safe! She was fine at first, but then she started screaming for Everett to save her... and then she just started seizing..." Everett felt his heart shatter. He shoved the door open and burst into the room. The medical team was a blur of motion, working desperately to stabilize her.

Skylar was thrashing on the bed, her eyes squeezed shut as she breathed. "I'm not lying! Everett Wilder is my uncle! Stop! It hurts! Uncle Everett, please save me!!" Everett lunged forward and grabbed her hand, his voice thick with emotion. "Sky... it's me. I'm here. I'm right here, baby. No one is ever going to hurt you again. I've got you... I've got you..." The second she heard his voice, her thrashing slowed. The monitors began to settle into a steady rhythm. (0) (0) 11:12 Bad Move, Uncle. You Sent Your Princess to the Mob... Now Your Queen Runs It. 61.4% admin