Page 69 of Ruined By Protection
"That's rich," I rasp. "You can't leave me alone for a minute, can you?"
He doesn't flinch at my tone, doesn't look away. "No," he answers simply.
I shake my head, another harsh laugh escaping. "You know what's funny? I'm not afraid of you." I meet his gaze directly. "Not anymore. Not after..."
I don't finish the sentence, but I don't need to. Elliott's presence hangs between us like a ghost.
"Elliott appeared to be such a nice guy," I continue, the words spilling out now. "Perfect smile, perfect manners, perfect life. Everyone loved him. My parents thought he was a miracle." I press my palm flat against the floor. "But you... everyone sees exactly what you are. The danger. The violence. You don't hide it."
Matteo remains still, his expression unreadable. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"I don't know what it is." I lean my head back against the wall. "I just know that right now I'm more afraid of men who hide what they are than the ones who show it honestly."
His jaw tightens but he doesn't move from his spot on the floor. "I would never hurt you, Hazel."
"I know." The certainty of that assertion surprises even me. "That's the strangest part. I've known you for what—a week? And yet somehow I trust you more than the man I was married to for two years."
Matteo's eyes darken. "He's never going to touch you again."
The quiet promise in his voice should frighten me. Instead it wraps around me like a shield.
"Lucrezia told me about what happened to her," I say after another long silence. "And about the others. Sienna. Zoe. Evelyn—I haven't even asked my cousin if she wants to talk to me." I meet his eyes.
Matteo's expression shifts, something like grief passing over his features before he masters it. "Yeah."
"How do you stand it?" I whisper. "Knowing what happens to women in your world? In any world?"
He doesn't answer immediately. When he does his voice is rough. "By making sure it doesn't happen again. At least not to the women under our protection."
I take a deep breath, the weight of secrets pressing against my chest. Somehow sitting here on the floor with Matteo feelssafer than any chair or couch could. Maybe because we're both on the same level. Maybe because it feels like a confession.
"Elliott wasn't always..." I pause, searching for words. "He wasn't always like this."
Matteo's expression doesn't change but his eyes never leave my face. He's listening—really listening—in a way Elliott never did.
"When we met at The Remington I was working double shifts, trying to help my parents after Dad's back surgery." I draw a pattern on the floor with my fingertip. "Elliott came in with some business associates. Left me a hundred-dollar tip on a thirty-dollar tab."
The memory feels like it happened to someone else. "He came back the next night. And the next. Always polite. Always charming. Asked about my family, remembered details about my brother's school, my dad's health issues."
Matteo's jaw tightens but he doesn't interrupt.
"My mom lost her job. Dad needed another surgery." I laugh without humor. "Then Elliott swooped in like some fairy tale prince. Offered Mom a position at Montgomery Industries. Paid for Dad's surgery. Set up a fund for Jake's lessons."
I pull my knees tighter to my chest. "Everyone thought I’d hit the jackpot. The wealthy businessman falling for the bartender. Like some movie."
"And you fell for it," Matteo says quietly.
"I was grateful," I correct him. "There's a difference. I thought maybe love would grow later."
I close my eyes, remembering. "The wedding was perfect. Everything that Elliott wanted. I just had to show up. He'd already chosen my dress, the flowers, the venue. Said he wanted to spare me the stress."
When I open my eyes Matteo's watching me with an intensity that should be uncomfortable but somehow isn't.
"It started small. Comments about my clothes. Suggestions about my hair. Always with a smile, always 'just trying to help.' Then it was my friends. He didn't like this one's attitude or that one's influence. Said they were using me to get close to his money."
My throat constricts. "Then my phone. He needed to know where I was, who I was with. For my safety, he said. The cameras came next. All over the house. For security, he said."
Matteo's expression darkens. "And no one noticed?"
