I pull her closer, careful of my injuries. "Things will be different now." It's both a promise and a prayer.
CHAPTER FORTY
Istay at Zoe's side in the waiting area, my arm wrapped around her shoulders as she leans against me. The sterile hospital lights cast harsh shadows across the empty chairs. My body throbs with pain, but I refuse more medication. I need my mind clear.
Two hours crawl by before Alessio emerges from the hallway. Something's wrong. I can read it in the stiff set of his shoulders, the hollow look in his eyes. My heart plummets as I stand to meet him.
"How is she?" I ask, though I already know the answer won't be good.
Alessio's face is ashen. He looks down at his hands, then back at me. "The surgery went well, but..."He swallows hard. "They... they raped her. They put things inside her."
My vision tunnels as rage explodes within me. My gun is in my hand before I realize it, and I fire at the wall, my wrist screaming in protest. The sound echoes through the empty corridor.
"Damiano!" Zoe gasps.
The pain is nothing compared to the anguish in my heart. Security guards rush toward us, but Alessio flashes his badge, waving them off with quiet words.
"Where is she?" I demand, my voice unrecognizable.
"Room 312," Alessio says. "But Damiano?—"
I'm already moving, ignoring the protest from my injuries. Zoe calls after me, but I can't stop. Can't process. Can't think beyond the fury and guilt crashing through me in waves.
Entering Lucrezia's room, my breath catches. My vibrant, lively sister is gone, replaced by a shell staring blankly at the wall. Her face is bruised, her lip split. An IV drips steadily beside her bed. The guilt is crushing. I failed to protect her, and now she'll never be the same.
"Lucia," I whisper, using her childhood nickname.
Her eyes find mine, but there's nothing behind them—no spark, no fire, none of the passion that's always defined her.
"I don't want to talk to anyone," she whispers, her voice hollow.
Swallowing hard, I nod and retreat, leaving her. As I close the door, the weight of everything settles on my shoulders. We've won the battle against Byron, but at what cost?
I lean against the wall, closing my eyes.
"I should have been there," I growl at Zoe, although I know it might hurt her, and I hate myself for being suchan asshole, not being able to control it. "I should have protected her."
Enzo approaches, his face drawn with the same guilt that's consuming me. He places a hand on my uninjured shoulder, his touch uncharacteristically gentle.
"It's not only your fault, Damiano," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "We failed her. Both of us."
I look up, meeting my brother's gaze. The pain in his eyes mirrors my own.
"She's our little sister," Enzo continues, "and we both swore to keep her safe after..." He doesn't finish the sentence. He doesn't need to. After our parents died. After I became the head of the family. After I promised nothing would ever touch what was mine.
Zoe steps forward, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity I've never seen before.
"This isn't on either of you," she says firmly. "All of this happened because of that sick monster Byron."
Her hand finds mine, gripping it tightly. "He manipulated all of us. He used me. He used my father. He killed Bianca. And now he's hurt Lucrezia." Her voice doesn't waver, even as tears gather in her eyes. "This is his legacy of poison, not yours."
I look at her, this woman, standing strong despite everything she's been through. Despite all the lies she was told. Despite the fact that her entire life was constructed as a weapon against me.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Isit on the edge of our bed, my mind racing with everything that's happened. The doctors insisted Lucrezia stay at the hospital for observation, although Damiano wanted to provide her medical help in home. After making sure she was settled with security outside her door, Damiano wanted to return home to change and regroup.
The door opens and Damiano walks in, freshly showered and looking less battered, but the weight of recent events still visible in his eyes. He sits beside me on the bed, his presence both comforting and intimidating.
