Page 22 of Ruined By Blood (Feretti Syndicate #2)

P ain explodes through my skull, dragging me back to consciousness like a hook through murky water. My cheek throbs where Jackson struck me, and the cold floor presses against my bare skin. I fight to peel my eyes open, everything distorted and swimming.

Chaos erupts around me. Grunts. Thuds. The unmistakable crack of bone meeting bone.

I blink away the fog to see Enzo somehow freed from his restraints, driving his fist into Jackson's face with relentless brutality.

Blood sprays from Jackson's nose and mouth as Enzo slams him against the wall, one hand gripping his throat while the other continues its assault.

Jackson's face is barely recognizable, a pulpy mess of crimson and swelling flesh.

"I warned you," Enzo snarls, voice dropped to a register I've never heard before. Each word punctuated with another punch. "You put your fucking hands on her."

Across the room, Alessio stands over a motionless body, gun still raised, his expression coldly professional. The man's unseeing eyes stare at the ceiling, a pool of blood spreading beneath him. Another of Jackson's men lies crumpled in the corner, chest still but eyes open in permanent shock.

I struggle to sit up, clutching the towel that barely covers me. My vision blurs again, and I feel myself sway.

"Easy." A calm voice beside me. Damiano crouches down. "Are you hurt beyond what we can see, Sienna?"

I try to answer but my mouth feels stuffed with cotton. The metallic taste of blood coats my tongue where I bit my cheek during Jackson's assault.

"I'm..." My voice cracks. "I'm okay."

Damiano's dark eyes assess me with clinical precision, checking for injuries beyond the obvious bruising on my face. I've seen that same assessment in my father's eyes a thousand times, but where Henry's gaze made me feel like merchandise being appraised, Damiano's holds concern wrapped in steel.

"Sienna." My name falls from Enzo's lips like a prayer as he drops to his knees beside me. Despite the violence I just witnessed from those same hands, they're infinitely gentle as they cup my face. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

His thumbs brush over my cheekbones, carefully avoiding the bruising. I can see blood seeping through his shirt where he took a hit, and rope burns around his wrists have left raw, bleeding marks. Yet he shows no sign of his own pain as he pulls me against his chest .

"You're safe now," he murmurs against my hair. "I've got you."

I find myself sinking into his embrace, my fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if he's the only solid thing in a world gone mad.

The steady rhythm of Enzo's heartbeat against my ear grounds me in reality. His arms form a protective cage around me, and for a moment, I let myself believe I'm truly safe.

"We need to move." Damiano's voice cuts through the momentary peace. "Now."

Enzo pulls back slightly but keeps one arm around my shoulders. His free hand brushes hair from my face with surprising tenderness.

"We should go back to the main house," Damiano says, his voice leaving no room for disagreement. "All our men are in position. They're watching the house with Zoe and Lucrezia there."

Enzo nods, then turns to me. "Can you stand?"

I try to push myself up, but my legs wobble like a newborn colt's. Enzo steadies me, his touch careful as if I might shatter. The towel slips, and I clutch it tighter, suddenly aware of my near-nakedness in a room full of men.

"Let me get you some clothes," he says softly.

He leaves for just a moment, returning with a t-shirt and sweatpants. The others turn away as he helps me dress, his movements efficient but respectful.

"Alessio, clean this mess up," Damiano orders. "Call Noah for backup. Make it look like they were never here."

Alessio nods, already pulling out his phone. "What about him?" He gestures toward Jackson, who lies moaning on the floor, face unrecognizable from Enzo's beating .

Damiano looks to Enzo, a silent question passing between them.

"He touched her." Enzo's voice drops to that deadly register again. "He dies. Take him to the warehouse."

The casual way they discuss murder should horrify me. Instead, I feel a twisted satisfaction at the thought of Jackson's permanent removal from this world.

And I don't know what that says for me.

"I'll handle it," Alessio says, tucking his phone away.

Enzo lifts me into his arms. Exhaustion has seeped into my bones, and his steady strength feels like the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

Outside, the cool night air hits my face. The forest surrounds us, dark and watchful. Damiano walks ahead, gun drawn, scanning for threats as we approach a black car parked behind the cabin.

Enzo slides into the backseat with me still in his arms. He arranges me carefully on his lap, one arm supporting my back while the other rests protectively across my thighs.

Damiano climbs into the driver's seat, pulling the door shut with a heavy thud.

The engine roars to life, and we pull away from the cabin. Through the rear window, I catch one last glimpse of Alessio standing in the doorway, his silhouette dark against the golden light spilling from inside.

I turn back and find myself meeting Enzo's gaze. The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch.

"I won't let him touch you again," he promises, his voice so low only I can hear it. "Never again."

I want to believe him. God help me, I do.

I cradle Sienna against my chest as we speed through the forest roads, her body so light it's barely there.

The silence in the car is thick but necessary.

Damiano keeps his eyes forward, hands steady on the wheel, mouth set in a grim line.

My brother knows when to speak and when words would only make things worse.

Right now, his silence is exactly what we need.

Blood seeps through my shirt where one of those bastards caught me with a blade, but it's nothing compared to the rage still pumping through my veins. That bastard's face keeps flashing in my mind. I should have made him suffer longer.

"You okay?" I whisper against Sienna's hair, too low for Damiano to hear.

She doesn't answer, but I feel her slight nod against my chest. Her eyes are open, staring at nothing.

The physical shock seems to have passed, but something else has taken its place.

A hollow emptiness I recognize too well.

Her tears fall silently down her cheeks, not a single sound escaping her lips even as they soak through my shirt.

It's the silence of her crying that cuts deepest. She's learned to grieve without making noise. And that's a skill no one should have to perfect.

Damiano's eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror, a brief flicker of understanding before he focuses back on the winding road. He's questioning nothing, even though bringing Sienna to our home puts everything at risk. Sterling will come for her again. Cortez too.

We're officially inviting war by protecting her.

Sienna's fingers curl into my shirt, anchoring herself. Her tears continue their silent path, but her breathing steadies slightly. I brush my thumb across her cheek, wiping away the wetness, and she leans into the touch like it's the only comfort she's known.

"Almost there," Damiano says, the first words spoken since we left the cabin.

The mansion appears through the trees as Damiano takes the final turn.

"We're here," I murmur against her hair.

She doesn't respond, just clutches my shirt tighter, her knuckles white with strain. The silent tears haven't stopped.

Damiano pulls around to the side entrance, away from prying eyes. Security teams patrol the perimeter, doubled since we left. Smart move. One I should've made at the cabin.

"Lucrezia and Zoe are waiting inside," Damiano says as he kills the engine. "Doc Romano's here too."

I nod, shifting Sienna in my arms as I prepare to move. The wound in my side protests, sending hot spikes of pain through my torso, but I ignore it.

"I can walk," Sienna whispers, the first words she's spoken since regaining consciousness.

"Not happening," I reply, voice firm but gentle.

The house door flies open before we reach it. Lucrezia stands there, eyes wide and frantic. When she spots Sienna in my arms, her face crumples.

I carry Sienna through the doorway. Lucrezia follows close behind, her hand reaching out to touch Sienna's arm gently. Zoe waits inside, her expression tight with worry. Dr. Romano stands in the background, medical bag already open.

The moment I set Sienna carefully on her feet, Lucrezia steps forward and wraps her in a gentle embrace. Sienna stiffens for a moment before collapsing against my sister, her entire body shaking violently now.

"You're safe," Lucrezia whispers, holding her steady. "You're safe now."

I take a step back, giving them space, but I can't look away. Blood soaks through my shirt, the adrenaline fading enough that the pain breaks through my defenses. Dr. Romano notices immediately, moving toward me with a professional's practiced eye.

"Bed. Now," he orders, nodding toward the stairs. "That needs stitching before you pass out."

"I'm fine," I growl.

"You're not fine," Zoe cuts in, stepping forward. "You're bleeding all over the floor, and Sienna needs you recovered, not dead from blood loss."

I almost argue, but Sienna's broken voice stops me.

"Please," she says through chattering teeth, still clinging to Lucrezia. "Let him help you."

Fuck.

One word from her and I'm surrendering.

I give a tight nod and turn toward the stairs.

"I'll take care of her," Zoe says softly, moving to Sienna's side. She places a gentle hand on Sienna's back. "Let's get you cleaned up in my room. The bathroom's bigger, and I have some clean clothes that might fit better."

Sienna takes a deep breath, visibly collecting herself. The shaking doesn't stop, but something in her eyes shifts. A flicker of control returning .

"Thank you," she says to Zoe, her voice steadier than before.