“She was an angel,” Anna whispered, motioning toward the bedroom where Gia was sound asleep. “I’ll head out now. Have a good night.”
“Thanks, Anna,” I murmured, grateful for her help. “Are you okay? The other day…” I trailed off. Her shoulders dropped a little, a tired smile that didn’t reach her eyes,
“It’ll be fine, don’t you go worrying about me now,” she whispered, waving a hand.
“Want me to call Dante?” I asked softly. I knew her family history was complicated, but Anna was private.
Her eyes went wide. “God, no.”
As soon as she was gone, I carried Lucia over to the couch, trying not to wake her. When I set her down, her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked up at me, confused.
“Gia’s asleep,” I said softly.
Lucia sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “I’ll sleep here, on the couch,” she mumbled, her voice groggy. “I don’t want to wake her.”
“All right,” I said, already moving toward the closet to grab extra pillows and blankets.
When I returned, Lucia was attempting to undo her hair, her fingers fumbling with the pins.
“Here,” I offered, sitting beside her. She hesitated for a moment, then let her hands fall to her lap.
I worked quietly, sliding the pins free one by one until her hair fell loose around her shoulders. It was softer than I’d imagined, and the scent of her shampoo lingered faintly, like berries. I closed my own eyes.
Get it together, Wright.
When I opened them, she had turned to look at me, her dark eye makeup making her eyes seem brighter. I realized she might not want to sleep in that. So I walked to the bathroom, quietly rifling through a few bags on the countertop. I found a pack labeledmakeup removerand brought it over to her. Her head was on the pillow, looking like she was fighting to stay awake.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered, and I gently wiped away the remnants of her makeup, the cool cloth smoothing over her cheeks and forehead.
“Why are you being so nice?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.
I paused, then shrugged. “You take care of everyone, let me take care of you.”
She let out a soft hum, her eyes still closed, and leaned back slightly as I worked.
When I was done, I helped her settle onto the couch, tucking the blankets around her and adding an extra pillow behind her head. “Comfortable?” I asked, standing back to make sure she had everything she needed.
She opened her eyes, meeting mine with a tired but grateful smile. “Yeah.”
I nodded, stepping back toward the door, but her voice stopped me.
“Alexander,” she said, her words slurring slightly with sleep.
I turned. “Yeah?”
Her eyes fluttered shut. Within seconds, her breathing evened out, and she was asleep.
I stayed there for a moment, watching her, my chest inexplicably tight. She looked peaceful, wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets, her hair fanning out across the pillow. Too peaceful for the chaos of the night we’d just had.
With a sigh, I turned off the lights, leaving just the soft glow of the lamp by the couch, and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind me.
11
LUCIA
The soft glow of morning light seeped through the curtains, warming my face as I stirred awake. My neck ached, a dull throb radiating down my back from sleeping on the couch. Blinking groggily, I pushed myself up on one elbow, my hand automatically going to my pounding head.
On the side table next to me was a glass of water and a small packet of ibuprofen. I stared at it for a moment, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
