Page 51 of Ruined By Protection
"It's different when you're born into it," she says, twisting a silver bracelet around her wrist. "I've never known anything else. This life, these rules—it's all totally normal to me."
She looks up, meeting my eyes. "I'm not saying it's always been easy. But the Ferettis have a code. People who aren't in our world—they think everything is black and white," Lucrezia continues, her voice taking on an edge. "But regular people break their promises all the time. They lie, they cheat, they hurt each other for no reason. At least we have reasons."
I think about Elliott—Harvard-educated, country club member, CEO of a Fortune 500 company. A perfect upstanding citizen who broke my ribs last year because I spoke to a male server at a restaurant.
"The world isn't divided into good people and criminals, Hazel," Lucrezia says softly. "Sometimes the monsters wear the nicest suits and have the cleanest hands."
The truth of her words hits me and I touch the fading bruise on my arm—evidence of Elliott's pristine reputation and my private hell.
"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I shouldn't have asked that. It was rude of me."
Lucrezia waves away my apology. "Don't be sorry. It's a fair question." She stands, moving to the jewelry box again. "You're living under our roof. You should understand what that means."
She selects a delicate gold necklace with a small emerald pendant. "Here. This will complete the look."
I turn so she can fasten it around my neck, grateful for the change in topic. "It's beautiful."
"Keep it," she says. "It suits you."
"Oh, I couldn't?—"
"Please," she interrupts with a smile. "Consider it a welcome gift."
The cool weight of the pendant settles against my skin. I’m embarrassed to consider that it would have taken me a month of good tips to even think of buying something like this. Back when I earned my own money, of course.
"Speaking of welcome," Lucrezia says, "how are you settling in? Is everything comfortable?"
"More than comfortable," I assure her. "The room is gorgeous. I've never slept in a bed that comfortable before."
She laughs. "Wait until you try the pool house. The beds there are even better."
There's a knock at the door and Evelyn pokes her head in. "Are you two ready? Ettore's making that lamb dish tonight, and Noah's already downstairs drooling."
Lucrezia rolls her eyes. "Men and their stomachs. We're coming."
As we follow Evelyn into the hallway, I feel a strange mix of gratitude and unease. These people—this family of brutal criminals—have shown me more kindness in two days than Elliott did in two years of marriage.
What does that say about the world? About me?
I push the thought away as we descend the grand staircase. One day at a time. That's all I can handle right now.
Matteo
I arrive at the mansion twenty minutes early for dinner, parking my Ducati in its usual spot. My blood still boils thinking about Vanessa showing up at the casino like she had any right to be there. The fucking nerve of that woman.
After the shitshow at the casino the last thing I need is Damiano on my ass for being late to another family dinner.
The main dining room is empty except for Ettore, who's arranging silverware with military precision.
"Matteo," he nods, surprised. "You're early."
"Miracles happen," I mutter, running a hand through my shower-damp hair. "What's on the menu tonight?"
His eyes light up. "Herb-crusted rack of lamb with rosemary jus, truffled potato purée and roasted asparagus. And for dessert, a vanilla bean panna cotta with fresh berries."
I nod in approval, though my thoughts are far from food right now. They're stuck on Hazel and whether she'll be joining us tonight.
Ettore disappears back to the kitchen, leaving me alone with my concerns. I loosen my tie, feeling on edge. The memory of Vanessa's manicured fingernails on my arm makes my skin crawl. We had a casual thing—just sex, nothing more. I made that crystal clear from the start. But some women hear what they want to hear.
