Page 14 of Ruined By Blood
This gets her attention. Lucrezia turns slightly, her eyes finding mine with a glimmer of curiosity. It's the most engagement I've seen from her in days.
"Is she a friend?" The question holds a hint of the old Luce's mischief.
"No." I almost smile. "She's someone who needs help. She was attacked at our casino." I don't mention the years of abuse Dr. Romano discovered. One trauma survivor doesn't need to bear another's pain.
Lucrezia's expression softens. "Is she okay?"
"Physically, she'll heal. But she's terrified and won't talk to Damiano or me." I lean forward, careful not to move too quickly. "I thought maybe you could visit her? Just to talk. Woman to woman."
The request hangs between us. I'm asking something significant—for her to step outside her safe cocoon, to face a stranger when some days even family overwhelms her.
Lucrezia looks back toward the rain-streaked window. "Why would she talk to me?"
"Because you're not us," I say simply. "You're not... intimidating."
A ghost of a smile touches her lips. "That's a first. The Feretti men admitting they might scare someone."
I reach for her hand, relieved when she doesn't pull away. "You have a gift, Luce. You see people. You always have."
She's quiet for a long moment, and I don't push. Finally, she nods once.
"I'll try," she whispers. "Not promising anything, but I'll try."
Relief washes through me. "That's all I'm asking. Just a conversation."
Lucrezia tilts her head, studying me with those same perceptive eyes that have seen through my bullshit. Even now, broken as she feels, my sister still reads me like a book.
"Why do you care so much about this stranger, Enzo?" she asks softly.
I look away, focusing on the rain streaking down the window. Truth has always been our currency, even when it cuts deep.
"Because I failed you, Luce," I finally say, my voice barely audible over the rainfall. "I was supposed to protect you, and I didn't."
"Enzo—"
"No," I cut her off, the familiar pain twisting in my chest. "It's the truth. I'm your older brother."
My knuckles go white as I clench my fists, the memory still sharp enough to draw blood. "So maybe this is the universe giving me a second chance. Another girl who needs protection. Someone I can actually help this time."
The silence stretches between us, heavy with shared pain. When I finally look back at her, tears shimmer in Lucrezia's eyes.
"You didn't fail me," she whispers, her voice breaking. "You can't be everywhere, Enzo, not you, neither Damiano. You can't stop every monster."
"I should have stopped yours." The admission tears from my throat, raw and honest.
Lucrezia slides across the window seat and wraps her arms around me, burying her face against my shoulder. I freeze for a moment—she hasn't initiated contact like this in months—before carefully returning the embrace, holding her like she might shatter.
"Help her," she murmurs against my shirt. "Help her because she needs it, not because you're trying to make up for something that was never your fault."
I rest my chin on the top of her head, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. For a moment, she feels likethe old Lucrezia again—my fierce little sister who never backed down from anything.
I'm sitting on the edge of the bed, as far from the door as possible, when I hear a gentle knock. My muscles tense instantly.
The door cracks open before I can decide whether to respond.
A young woman slips inside—early twenties, delicate features, dark waves cascading over one shoulder.
"Hi," she says, her voice soft but not timid. "I'm Lucrezia. Enzo's sister."
