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"I understand that." I soften my tone. "But I can't live in a cage, even a gilded one. I've done that my whole life."
"You will have two men on you," he says, his expression unyielding. "They'll follow at a distance but they'll be there if anything happens."
I look at the mansion behind him, at the guards positioned around the perimeter, at Alessio standing alert by the entrance. This is my life now—constant surveillance, constant protection. The realization settles over me like a heavy cloak.
"Is this how it's always going to be?" I ask quietly.
Noah's eyes soften slightly. "For now. Until we're sure it's safe."
I think about my sister, about my father, about the confrontation waiting for me. I need to do this on my own terms but I'm not foolish enough to ignore the danger.
"Fine," I concede. "Two men. But they stay back. I don't want them hovering over me, especially not at my parents' house."
"They'll keep their distance," Noah promises. "You won't even know they're there unless you need them."
"I'll call you when we arrive," I say, already turning toward the house to find Jessica.
Noah catches my wrist. "Evelyn."
I look back at him, at the man who kidnapped me, protected me, took a bullet for someone else while I watched. The man I've somehow come to care for despite everything.
"Be careful," he says simply.
I nod. "I will."
I head inside, leaving Noah to his arrangements. The Feretti mansion feels different in daylight—less intimidating, more like an actual home. Sunlight streams through tall windows, catching dust motes in golden beams.
"She's upstairs packing," Lucrezia says, appearing from a side hallway. She's wearing a simple sundress, her dark hairpulled back in a loose ponytail. Without her makeup and designer clothes, she looks younger, almost vulnerable.
"Thank you," I say, hesitating at the foot of the grand staircase. "For everything. For keeping her safe."
Lucrezia shrugs but her eyes are kind. "Family protects family."
"We're not your family," I point out.
"Noah seems to think you are." She gives me a knowing look. "And in this world that's enough."
I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. "Still, I appreciate it. Jessica's all I have."
"She's been good company," Lucrezia says, leaning against the banister. "It's nice having another woman around who isn't afraid to speak her mind."
I laugh softly. "That's Jessica. She's never had a filter."
"She told me about your childhood," Lucrezia says, her voice gentler now. "About your father."
My smile fades. "Did she?"
"Some of it. Enough to understand why you're going back there now." She crosses her arms. "Are you sure it's a good idea?"
"No," I admit. "But it's necessary."
Lucrezia nods, understanding in her eyes. "Sometimes the hardest conversations are the most important ones."
"Exactly."
We stand in comfortable silence for a moment. Despite our different backgrounds there's something about Lucrezia that feels familiar—a shared experience of growing up in worlds controlled by powerful men.
"Jessica mentioned you paint," I say.