"Oh, Zoe." Lucrezia squeezes my hand. "I understand loneliness. I've been surrounded by men my whole life—loving men, but still. There's a difference between being protected and being understood."
I look up at her, seeing genuine compassion in her eyes. "Exactly."
"Well, you've got me now," she says with a gentle smile. "Sister-in-law officially, but sister in all the ways that matter if you want."
Another tear escapes, and I brush it away quickly. "I'd like that."
The sound of approaching footsteps pulls us apart. Damiano appears in the doorway, his imposing frame filling the space. His dark eyes move from me to Lucrezia, then back again, taking in my slightly reddened eyes.
"Everything okay here?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral but his gaze sharp and assessing.
"Everything's fine," I answer quickly, straightening my posture. I brush my hand across my face, erasing any lingering evidence of tears. "Just girl talk."
Lucrezia rises from the bed, smoothing her paint-spattered jeans. "Where are you off to, fratello? You look like a man on a mission."
Damiano's eyes linger on me for another moment before shifting to his sister. "Meeting with Enzo in my office. Business matters."
"Ooh," Lucrezia's face brightens. "Can I come? I've been cooped up in the studio all day, and I'm curious about what's happening with the?—"
"No," Damiano cuts her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Not this time, Lucrezia."
I watch as Lucrezia's smile fades, replaced by a flash of hurt that she quickly masks with practiced ease.
"Fine," she sighs dramatically, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. "Keep your boring business secrets. I'll just go back to creating actual beauty in this world instead."
Damiano's expression softens slightly. "We'll finish this discussion later," he tells her, then turns his attention back to me. His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. "I'll see you at dinner, Zoe."
It's not a question but a statement—an expectation.
I nod, feeling the weight of his gaze.
As Damiano's footsteps fade down the hallway, I notice Lucrezia's shoulders slump slightly.
"He always does that," she mutters, her fingers absently tracing patterns on my bedspread. "Keeps me away from anything important."
I study her face—the brief flash of disappointment that she's unsuccessfully trying to hide. The way she bites her lower lip just like Damiano does when he's holding something back.
"You know what?" I say, making a quick decision. "Forget about the portrait for now. Let's go make milkshakes instead."
Her eyes widen in surprise. "Really?"
"Really. And while we're at it, you can tell me what exactly Damiano was keeping from you just now." I stand up and smooth my clothes. "If you want to, that is."
A smile blooms across her face, bright as sunshine after rain. "Are you serious? You actually want to know?"
"Of course. I'm curious too."
Lucrezia jumps up from the bed with newfound energy. "You're officially my favorite person in this house." She grabs my hand, pulling me toward the door. "Come on, Ettore makes the best milkshakes, but he's visiting his sister today, so we'll have to manage ourselves."
As we head down the stairs, I feel a growing warmth in my chest. Part calculation, yes—Lucrezia could be my window into Damiano's world. But there's something else there too, something genuine that I don't want to examine too closely.
"Thank you," Lucrezia says suddenly as we reach the bottom of the stairs.
"For what?"
"For this." She gestures between us. "For being someone I can talk to. Someone who doesn't treat me like I'm made of glass." Her eyes shine with sincerity. "Damiano and Enzo... they mean well, but sometimes I just need someone who sees me as an actual adult."
The guilt returns, heavy in my stomach. But I push it down, reminding myself why I'm here.
