Beautiful Agony

3 | My life has always been on the line.

-TROIAN'S POV-

Normally these trips to Italy bring me joy, of course seeing my extended family is always a drama but this country, the food, the music, the streets, the women. It's like I need it as much as the blood in my veins to keep my heart beating and I'm fine with that.

But this time I don't feel happy or excited for the day ahead, I feel numb.

It fell to me to send out the order for the DnA test, this is one of those times where owning a clinic and having doctors that are indebted to you in every country you dare to enter is worth it. In this line of work, anything can happen at any time, so we need medics that won't question shit all around us constantly, no matter where we are.

"If it can be rushed then it will be Martin, I don't give a shit if your job will be on the line. Fuck this up and your life will be on the line, yeah?" I said finally before hanging up. 

I've already sent off a DnA sample and so have my father and my brother, it wasn't entirely necessary that all three of us donate to the cause but we want to be thorough. The Italians would do unspeakable things just to throw us through a loop, which is why our medics are gonna take the girls DnA themselves. Make sure it's not been tampered with.

I'm still not sure what I want the results to say.

If she's not really our sister, that means that our Dianna is out there somewhere, as lost as ever. But if this is Dia, we'll have to live with the fact that she was fighting for her life whilst we just sat on our arses this whole time. I'm not sure if I could live with that.

-DIANNA'S POV-

I woke up in a haze, the intricate golden patterns on my high ceiling twisting into a misshapen mess as I turned my head, watching everything blend together, reflecting off the glass chandelier above me. I shuddered as I sat up, careful not to wake the man next to me. I think his name is Dylan, but he asked me to call him sir. So I did.

I slid off the bed smoothly past the silk sheets, holding back a whimper at the pain taking over my body as I limped over to my en-suite, gently shutting the door behind me and removing what little clothes I had left on. I didn't look at myself in the mirror, hoping to avoid viewing the handprint shaped bruises that adorned my body after last night, left behind by Arturo and the man that liked to be called Sir.

My shower was quick and precise, I made sure to scrub every inch of my body in hopes to feel clean after, but of course I don't. I never truly do. I feel more awake, now, though. The haze is floating away.

I slid back into bed after putting on a fresh pair of pyjamas and some light makeup, enough for him to think I'm pretty without noticing I'm wearing makeup. Esther says makeup is like a mask I can hide behind when I feel nervous but I find it only makes me more nervous. Like if they see what I look like underneath my concealer, my under eye circles, the bruises, the way my face puffs up when I cry, then they might not want me anymore. And then what use would I be? What reason would I have to be alive if I'm not doing my job?

She also says it makes me look younger, which means she can charge them more to see me. She says I've been making less money since I've grown older.

I felt the bed dip as Sir sat up, finally waking. I want to get this over with, I want to be left alone. So, so badly,

——

"Bambina, you look lovely this morning. How are you?" Arturo asked with a light smile on his face, placing his hand on my shoulder.

Fucking peachy.

"I'm happy." I nodded to Arturo, sitting up straight in the seat of my vanity. I did my makeup for the second time, it's heavier now, like Esther likes it.