Page 69 of Ruined By Blood
I fall silent, remembering how my mother had crawledaway, blood dripping onto the floor. How Henry had calmly returned to his seat and continued eating his dessert as if nothing had happened.
My voice trembles as I continue, "Henry told everyone she fell down the stairs. The doctor he brought—" I pause, remembering the cold, clinical man who never quite met my eyes. "That doctor knew what really happened. He always knew, every single time."
Enzo's hand finds mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. The gentle touch anchors me to the present.
"There were so many times a doctor came for her. Broken wrist, bruised ribs, concussion." The list feels endless. I take a shaky breath. "She always tried to protect me. Always put herself between us."
The memory of her desperate courage makes my throat tighten with unexpected pride.
"Until that night, Henry had never hit me. Not once." I let out a bitter laugh. "He was careful about that. Didn't want to damage the goods before they were ready for market."
Enzo's hand tightens around mine, his breathing changing subtly. I can feel the rage simmering beneath his calm exterior, but he remains silent, letting me speak.
"My mother was my shield," I whisper, the realization washing over me with painful clarity. "As long as she was watching, he wouldn't touch me. She knew that. That's why she never left me alone with him if she could help it."
I stare blankly at the wall, seeing not the elegant wallpaper but my mother's face—the determination in her eyes even as her body failed her.
"I'll tell you about what happened to her next time," I say quickly, afraid that if I continue down this path, I'll shatter completely. "I can't. I need a break from this."
My free hand moves instinctively to my throat, where the thin gold cross usually hangs. Finding it missing makes my heart rate spike until I remember it's probably still at the cabin.
Enzo nods, respect evident in the careful way he releases my hand. "Whenever you're ready. There's no rush."
"There is one thing I need you to understand," I say, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Henry might have brought in doctors for my mother, but he wasn't being kind. He just needed her functioning. Needed her alive but broken, so she could keep playing her role in his perfect family portrait."
The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. "Those same doctors would later patch me up too, when I got older. When the men Henry let use me got too rough."
Enzo's eyes darken dangerously, but his voice remains steady. "Did that happen often? Men getting rough with you?"
I look away. "Some were worse than others. Most just wanted..." I trail off, unable to finish the thought. "But some enjoyed causing pain. Those were the ones Henry charged extra for the privilege."
The room falls silent except for the sound of Enzo's controlled breathing. When I glance back, his eyes are closed, his hands now clenched into fists on his knees.
"I'm sorry," I say automatically. "This is why I didn't want to tell you. It's too much for anyone to hear."
His eyes snap open. "Don't apologize. Not for this. Not ever for this."
He reaches for my hand again, his touch impossibly gentle despite the tension radiating from him.
"We'll continue when you're ready," he says softly. "You set the pace. You have the power here."
I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. Enzo deserves the truth, especially after risking so much to protect me.
"Henry used me to secure business deals," I finally say, my voice barely audible. "Important men would pay him for... time with me."
The words hang heavy between us, the ugly truth finally exposed to light. I risk a glance at Enzo. His face remains carefully controlled, but I can see the storm brewing behind his eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitching rhythmically.
His knuckles turn white as he clenches his fists, but he doesn't move, doesn't explode like I'd feared. Instead, he remains perfectly still, only his eyes betraying the rage within.
"Remember that night at the casino?" I continue, my voice steadier now that I've started. "The man who claimed me as his property for the evening?"
Enzo nods.
"That wasn't the first time I'd seen him. He was... he was the first one. Seven years ago."
The color drains from Enzo's face as understanding dawns. "The first man your father sold you to was at my casino that night?"
"Yes." The word comes out choked. "I couldn't believe it when I saw him there. After all these years."
