Page 36 of Ruined By Protection
"You look beautiful," she says, and I can hear the effort it takes to keep her voice light. "Let me do your makeup?"
I nod, grateful for her understanding, for not pushing me to talk when the wounds—both physical and emotional—are still so raw.
Evelyn links her arm through mine as we make our way down the grand staircase. My heart plunders my insides with each step. I've spent the last two years playing the perfect wife at Elliott's business dinners but something tells me this will be entirely different.
"You'll be fine," Evelyn whispers, sensing my anxiety. "Just be yourself."
"My 'self' is currently a nervous wreck," I mutter back.
She squeezes my arm. "They don't bite. Well, except maybe Enzo."
I shoot her a horrified look and she laughs.
"I'm kidding! Mostly."
We follow the sound of voices to a large dining room dominated by a long mahogany table. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light over the space, illuminating artwork. The room falls quiet as we enter and six pairs of eyes turn toward us.
"Everyone," Evelyn announces, "this is my cousin, Hazel."
A man rises from the head of the table. He's tall with dark wavy hair and intense brown eyes that seem to evaluate everything they see. His presence fills the room, commanding attention without effort.
"Welcome to our home, Hazel," he says, his voice deep and carrying a hint of an Italian accent. "I'm Damiano Feretti."
So this is the don. Despite his welcoming words there's something about him that makes me want to take a step back.
"Thank you for having me," I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.
Beside Damiano a blonde woman stands and approaches me with a warm smile that transforms her beautiful face. She's slender but strong-looking, with bright green eyes that crinkle at the corners.
"I'm Zoe," she says, taking my hands in hers. "We're glad you're here."
There's genuine kindness in her eyes and I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders.
Lucrezia bounces up next, her dark hair swinging. "We've already met but officially—I'm Lucrezia Feretti." She kisses my cheek. "That dress is perfect on you."
My eyes drift to the man seated beside where Lucrezia was sitting. He's massive, with a buzz cut and steely blue eyes that miss nothing. His hands rest on the table and I notice small scars criss-crossing his knuckles.
"Daniel," he says with a curt nod, not bothering to stand.
Evelyn guides me further into the room to where Noah waits with a small smile. Next to him sits a man who can only be Enzo Feretti. The family resemblance to Damiano is clear, though Enzo's features are sharper, more predatory. His hazel eyes darken as they flick over me, assessing, before returning to the woman beside him.
"Enzo," he introduces himself simply, his voice a low rumble. His arm lies possessively around the waist of a slender woman with long dark hair and crystal blue eyes.
"I'm Sienna," she says softly.
I search the room for Matteo, but he's nowhere to be seen.
"Please, sit," Damiano says, gesturing to an empty chair between Evelyn and Lucrezia.
I slide into the seat, grateful for the friendly buffer on either side. The table is set with fine china and crystal glasses that catch the light. Three different forks line the left side of each plate and I suddenly worry about using the wrong one, trying to recall my hotel training.
"Matteo will be joining us shortly," Damiano says to Enzo, as if reading my thoughts. "He had to take a call."
My stomach flips at the mention of his name. I reach for my water glass, needing something to do with my hands.
"So, Hazel," Zoe says, her voice gentle but direct, "Evelyn tells us you're from Austin?"
"Yes," I answer, setting down my glass. "Born and raised."
