Guilt hits me like a punch to the stomach. The warmth in Lucrezia's eyes, the open affection in her voice—it's too much. Her words echo in my mind.
My throat tightens as I stare at her paint-splattered hands, working so carefully to capture my likeness. She's creating art from my deception. Preserving a lie on canvas.
"Zoe? Are you okay?" Lucrezia stops painting, concern creasing her brow.
I'm here to destroy her world. To systematically dismantle everything she loves. And she's welcoming me with open arms, treating me like family.
"I just—" My voice cracks. "I need a minute."
I stand abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool. The fabric slips from my shoulders, pooling at my feet.
"What's wrong?" Lucrezia sets down her brush, moving toward me. "Did I say something?"
"No, no. You're perfect," I manage, backing away. "I just... bathroom. I'll be right back."
The walls of the studio suddenly feel too close. The beautiful paintings she's created—glimpses into her soul—are watching me, judging me. I'm an imposter in this sacred space.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Lucrezia's voice follows me as I reach the door.
"Fine. Just... women's things," I lie, another deception to add to the mountain between us.
I slip into the hallway, chest heaving. Tears burn behind my eyes as I hurry away from the studio. My footsteps echo against the floor, matching my racing heartbeat.
This wasn't supposed to happen. They were supposed to be monsters—all of them. Damiano murdered my father. His family profited from pain and destruction. They were targets, not people.
But Lucrezia is so painfully human. She's talented and kind and lonely.
And I'm going to break her heart.
The first tear falls as I turn the corner, then another. By the time I reach the staircase, I'm struggling to contain a sob that claws at my throat.
I hurry to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Leaning against it, I slide down until I'm sitting on the floor, knees pulled to my chest. The tears come freely now, hot and fast down my cheeks.
What am I doing? These past days with Lucreziahave been... real. Not calculated moves in a revenge plot, but genuine connection. That wasn't supposed to happen.
A soft knock startles me from my thoughts.
"Zoe? Can I come in?" Lucrezia's gentle voice filters through the door.
I hastily wipe my tears. "Just a minute," I call, my voice betraying me with a slight tremor. I push myself up and check my reflection in the nearby mirror—red-rimmed eyes stare back at me.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door. Lucrezia stands there, concern etched across her face. Her eyes widen when she sees mine.
"You've been crying," she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "Was it something I said? Did I upset you?"
"No," I shake my head quickly. "No, it wasn't you at all."
She closes the door behind her and guides me to sit on the edge of the bed. "Then what is it? Please tell me."
I look down at my hands, fingers twisting together in my lap. "It's just... when you said it was nice having another woman around, someone who gets it..." My voice trails off.
"What about it?"
"I've always been lonely at home," I admit, the truth spilling out before I can stop it. "It was just him and me in that big house, and he was always so busy. I never had a brother or sister, never really had anyone to talk to."
Lucrezia's hand covers mine, stilling my fidgeting fingers.
"It feels strange getting close to anyone else," I continue. "I don't know how to do this—how to have a friend in my house, a sister." The irony of my honesty isn't lost on me.
