Page 50 of Ruined By Protection
"You thought wrong." I cut her off, my patience evaporating. "What part of 'it's over' wasn't clear?"
She studies my face, searching for something. Whatever she sees makes her jaw tighten.
"You'll regret this," she says quietly. "We were good together."
"We were convenient together," I correct her. "And now we're done. Security will show you out."
I turn away, already reaching for my phone to call the head of security. Behind me I hear her inhale sharply.
CHAPTER 15
Hazel
"Ithink green is definitely your color," Lucrezia says, holding up a silky emerald dress against my body. "It makes your eyes pop."
I study my reflection in the full-length mirror of the guest bedroom. The dress is beautiful. The fabric runs like water between my fingers and tiny crystals catch the light along the neckline.
"I can't keep borrowing your clothes," I protest weakly, even as I smooth my hand over the delicate material.
Lucrezia waves dismissively. "Please. Half these things still have tags on them."
She tosses the dress onto the bed and pulls open a drawer filled with jewelry. "Now, for accessories. Something simple, I think. You have that natural beauty thing going on."
I blush, still not used to her casual compliments. In the two days I've been at the Feretti mansion, Lucrezia has taken me under her wing like a long-lost sister. It's... confusing. Nothing like what I expected from a mafia family.
"Another dinner tonight?" I ask, slipping behind the screen to change.
"We always eat together," Lucrezia explains, her voice carrying across the room. "It's like... I don't know, a tradition or something. Damiano insists on it. Says families that eat together stay together."
I pull the dress over my head, careful of my still-tender bruises. "Every night?"
"Unless someone's away on business." She laughs. "Though God help you if you criticize Ettore's cooking. Matteo nearly fired a guy at the casino for saying the tiramisu was too sweet."
My stomach flutters at the mention of Matteo. I've been avoiding him since that moment at the nursery window, when I caught him watching me holding baby Sofia. The intensity in his eyes had been too much.
I step out from behind the screen. "How does it look?"
Lucrezia claps her hands together. "Perfect! Now sit. Let me do something with your hair."
I perch on the vanity stool while she gathers my blonde waves into an elegant twist, leaving a few tendrils to frame my face.
"There," she says, stepping back to admire her work. "Simple but sophisticated."
"Thank you," I say quietly. "For everything. You've been so kind to me, yet you barely know me."
Lucrezia's expression softens. "I love Evelyn. And she loves you."
I hesitate, the question that's been burning inside me finally spilling out. "Can I ask you something? Something... personal?"
She raises an eyebrow. "Of course."
"How do you..." I struggle to find the right words. "I mean, doesn't it bother you? What your family does?"
The moment the words leave my mouth I feel my cheeks flush hot with shame. "I'm sorry. That was incredibly rude. I didn't mean?—"
"You mean the mafia thing?" Lucrezia interrupts, her voice surprisingly calm. She sits on the bed, smoothing her skirt. "You're wondering how I can act normal when my family kills people?"
I swallow hard, feeling like I've crossed an invisible line. But Lucrezia's expression isn't angry—just thoughtful.
