Each word is like a knife to my heart. I think of my own children, of the fierce protectiveness I feel toward them. The idea of raising a hand to them is incomprehensible.
"After that, it became... regular," Vittoria continues, voice hollow. "Any perceived slight, any failure to meet his standards, whenever he was stressed or angry, it was always me who felt his wrath. I learned to hide the bruises, to make excuses. My brothers tried to protect me when they could, but they couldn't always be there."
"And your mother?" I ask, dreading the answer.
Vittoria's eyes fill with fresh tears. "She tried, in her own way. But she was scared of him too. We all were."
The pieces fall into place: Vittoria's strength, her ability to mask emotions, her fierce independence. They weren't just personality traits; they were survival skills.
"I'm so sorry, Tori," I say, voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea. If I'd known..."
She turns to look at me, her eyes searching my face. "Would it have made a difference?" she asks softly. "When the arrangement was made, I was just a pawn in a larger game. My wellbeing wasn't a factor."
Her words hit like a physical blow because they're true. When I agreed to this marriage, Vittoria was nothing more than a means to an end, a way to secure an alliance. I didn't care about her as a person, didn't consider what her life might have been like.
"Things are different now," I say firmly, meeting her gaze. "You're my wife, Tori. Your wellbeing is my top priority."
A small, sad smile tugs at her lips. "Because I belong to you now?" she asks, a hint of bitterness in her tone.
I pause, carefully considering my words. "No," I say finally. "Because you're part of my family now. And family protects each other."
Vittoria's eyes widen slightly at my words, clearly surprised. Not everyone is her father. I won't ever hurt my family. Others? Definitely. Anyone who harms my family will feel the consequences. But I will never harm those I hold close.
"I know our marriage didn't start conventionally," I continue. "But that doesn't change the fact that you're my wife now. I made a vow to protect you, and I intend to keep it."
She's silent for a long moment, eyes searching my face like she's trying to gauge my sincerity. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but steady. "What happens now?"
I lean forward, gently taking her uninjured hand. "Now you focus on healing. And I..." I pause, jaw clenching as I think of Domenico Costa. "I make sure your father never hurts you again."
Fear passes over Vittoria's face. "Cesare, please, he's still my father. I don't want?—”
"He lost the right to call himself your father the moment he laid a hand on you," I interrupt, voice hard. "What he's done... it's unforgivable, Tori. In our world, family is everything. To betray that, to hurt your own child... there have to be consequences."
Vittoria closes her eyes, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I know," she whispers. "I just... I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me."
I reach out, gently wiping away her tear. "Listen to me, Tori. None of this is your fault. You're not responsible for your father's actions, or for what happens to him because of them. Your only job right now is to get better."
She nods slightly, wincing. "Please," she whispers. "Don't get hurt."
I can't remember the last time someone cared for me the way Tori does. Christ, the lines I'd set for us blurred long ago, and now I'm finding it hard to locate where the hell they even were.
Tori has gotten under my skin, and the truth is, I quite like her there.
"I'm tired," she murmurs, eyelids drooping.
"Rest," I tell her softly. "I'll be here when you wake up."
As Vittoria drifts off, I pull out my phone to text Lorenzo.
Any updates on Domenico's whereabouts?
Nothing concrete yet. But we've got eyes on all airports and train stations. He won't get far.
Good. Keep me posted. And Lorenzo? When we find him, I want to deal with him personally.
Understood, Father. We'll bring him to you.
I put my phone away and turn back to Vittoria's sleeping form. Watching the rise and fall of her chest, I'm struck by how much I've come to care for her. That wasn't something I'd ever imagined happening.
