My fingers twitched.
But I forced myself to stay still. Forced myself to breathe.
She wasn’t the one who had broken me.
“Elena...”
Renzo’s voice broke the moment.
My gaze shifted to him.
His eyes scanned me slowly.
Taking in the gauze.
The limp.
The bruises darkening along my jaw.
Something in his expression tightened.
Not guilt alone—but something more conflicted.
I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through.”
The words came out quietly.
I studied him for a moment.
Then gave a small nod.
“It’s okay.”
It wasn’t.
But saying anything else would take more energy than I had left.
Violet’s head snapped toward him immediately.
“Renzo, why the hell are you feeling sorry for her?” she snapped.
“You know what her father did to Vincenzo. You’re supposed to hate her with the same kind of fire Vincenzo does—if your loyalty to him still means anything.”
A beat.
“I’ll excuse you both,” I said quietly, turning slightly as I prepared to walk past them.
I didn’t have the energy for this.
Not now.
Not like this.
But before I could take another step—Violet moved.
Her hand shot out and clamped around my wrist.
Hard.
