Page 42 of Ruined By Protection
I rub my temples, sitting in my car outside the casino after wrapping up the meeting. The sun's too bright, slicing through the windshield despite my sunglasses. I need coffee. And aspirin. Maybe in an IV drip.
Damiano's words from last night keep circling in my head. "She needs protection while she gets her divorce sorted out." Divorce. So she got married. After me.
I grab my phone and dial Daniel.
"Everything good?" I ask when he picks up, keeping my voice neutral despite the throbbing behind my eyes.
"All clear," Daniel responds, his voice low. "Still in the lawyer's office. Been there almost two hours now."
I check my watch. "That long? What the hell are they discussing?"
"Not my business to know," Daniel says, ever the professional.
I know Gianelli. She’s sharp as a tack and ruthless in court. Damiano wouldn't send Hazel to her unless the situation was serious.
What the hell is going on?
"What's the plan after?" I ask, starting the car.
"Taking them to meet Lucrezia at some café she picked. Said she wanted girl time with the new guest."
Lucrezia and her ‘girl time’. More like Lucrezia wanting to satisfy her curiosity about our mysterious visitor. Nothing happens in that house without Lucrezia knowing every detail.
"Which café?" I ask, pulling into traffic.
Daniel names a place in SoHo, one of Lucrezia's favorites. Overpriced lattes and enough privacy for sensitive conversations.
After hanging up I sit at a red light, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. Married. Hazel got married. To some asshole she's now running from.
The light turns green and I accelerate a little too hard, earning a honk from the idiot in the car beside me. My headache intensifies along with my darkening mood.
What the hell happened to you, Hazel?
CHAPTER 13
Hazel
Istep out of the sleek black car with Evelyn right behind me, my legs still shaky from the intense meeting with Maria Gianelli. The weight of what I'm doing—divorcing Elliott—sits heavy in my chest, but there's something else there too. Relief. Hope, maybe.
"This is one of Lucrezia's favorite spots," Evelyn says, guiding me toward a café nestled between upscale boutiques.
The café is nothing like the places I used to frequent. Everything about it screams high-end designer taste—from the huge silvery espresso machine spouting steam behind the counter to the plush velvet boudoir chairs. Crystal pendant lights hang from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over marble-topped tables. The combined scent of buttery pastries and rich coffee fills the air.
A Taylor Swift song plays softly in the background—"Clean" I think. The lyrics about washing someone out of your hair hit a little too close to home right now.
"There she is," Evelyn points to a corner table where Lucrezia sits, scrolling through her phone.
Lucrezia spots us and waves, her dark hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She's dressed in what looks like casual wear for her—jeans and a silky blouse. Daniel takes up a position near the entrance, scanning the room with dominating efficiency.
"I already ordered for us," Lucrezia says as we approach. "The lavender lattes here are divine."
I slide into the seat across from her, taking in the small vase of fresh wildflowers on the table, the heavy vintage silverware, the overall sense of elite security this place seems to offer. It's worlds away from the coffee shops where Elliott would meet business associates, places where I'd sit silently beside him, careful not to speak unless spoken to.
"How did it go with Maria?" Lucrezia asks, her eyes glinting with interest.
"She's... intense," I admit, running my finger along the cool marble tabletop. "But I think she'll help me."
"Maria doesn't take cases she can't win," Lucrezia says with confidence. "And she especially enjoys taking down powerful men who think they're untouchable."
