Page 24 of Ruined By Blood
Istare at the small silver watch on the bedside table. Eleven forty-five. Almost midnight.
My fingers twist the fabric of the soft t-shirt Lucrezia lent me earlier. Enzo's words echo in my head: "We're leaving at midnight. Pack what you need."
I can't trust him. I can't trust any of them. The Ferettis may seem different from my father, with their family breakfasts and casual banter, but they're still dangerous men. Men who deal in power and violence. Men who can't possibly risk everything to protect me when Henry comes looking.
And Henry will come looking.
I slip into the bathroom and change quickly, wincing as the movement pulls at my healing bruises. I choose the darkest clothes I can find - black leggings, a navy hoodie. Better for blending into shadows.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I step back into the bedroom. The digital clock now reads eleven fifty. Ten minutes until Enzo comes for me.
Through the large windows, I can see moonlight illuminating the grounds below. Three stories down. Too far to jump.
I need to get to the ground floor first.
Lucrezia's tour earlier replays in my mind. The western staircase is rarely used by the family. The kitchen door leads to the gardens.
I press my ear against the door, listening for footsteps. Silence.
I slip out into the hallway, careful to walk on my toes to minimize sound. The thick carpet helps muffle my steps as I make my way toward the stairs Lu showed me.
My hand trembles as I grip the banister. Every creak of the old wood sounds like gunfire in the quiet house. I freeze at a distant voice, then continue when it fades.
Second floor. First floor. I press myself against the wall when I hear someone in the distance.
The kitchen is dark when I reach it, moonlight streaming through windows. The door to the gardens is right there - my exit to freedom.
I hesitate, hand on the doorknob. They have guards. Security systems. Dogs, maybe.
But this is my only chance.
If Henry finds me, I'm dead.
I take a deep breath and turn the doorknob. The cool night air hits my face as I ease the door open. Freedom is just steps away—a garden path leading to shadows, to anonymity, to anywhere but back to my father's clutches.
I slip outside, leaving the door barely cracked behind me. The grass is damp beneath my feet as I scan the yard for any sign of movement. Nothing. Just moonlight casting long shadows across the manicured lawn.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I gather my courage. One deep breath. Then I sprint toward the tree line at the edge of the property.
One second I'm running, the next I'm suspended in the air. Strong arms seize me from behind, locking around my waist like iron bands. My feet kick uselessly as I'm lifted off the ground.
"Going somewhere, piccola?"
Enzo's voice is low in my ear, almost amused. I struggle against his grip, but it's like fighting against steel. He doesn't even seem to notice my efforts.
Without another word, he adjusts his hold, sweeping me up against his chest. One arm supports my back while the other cradles my legs. The sudden shift makes my bruises scream in protest, but I clench my teeth against the pain.
"Put me down," I hiss, pushing against his chest.
He ignores me completely, carrying me across the lawn toward a black SUV idling in the circular driveway. The windows are tinted so dark they look like portals to nowhere.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that," Enzo says, his voice rumbling against my side where I'm pressed against him. "Lucrezia showed you around for what—an hour? And you already mapped an escape route."
I say nothing, focusing instead on how I might break free when he puts me down.
"You're lucky I'm the one who found you," he continues. "My men? They're trained to shoot first when they spot runners."
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with the night air. Would they really have shot me? Or is this just another fear tactic?
