Page 17 of Ruined By Protection (Feretti Syndicate #5)

Hazel

I step out of the sleek black car with Evelyn right behind me, my legs still shaky from the intense meeting with Maria Gianelli. The weight of what I'm doing—divorcing Elliott—sits heavy in my chest, but there's something else there too. Relief. Hope, maybe.

"This is one of Lucrezia's favorite spots," Evelyn says, guiding me toward a café nestled between upscale boutiques.

The café is nothing like the places I used to frequent.

Everything about it screams high-end designer taste—from the huge silvery espresso machine spouting steam behind the counter to the plush velvet boudoir chairs.

Crystal pendant lights hang from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over marble-topped tables.

The combined scent of buttery pastries and rich coffee fills the air.

A Taylor Swift song plays softly in the background—"Clean" I think. The lyrics about washing someone out of your hair hit a little too close to home right now.

"There she is," Evelyn points to a corner table where Lucrezia sits, scrolling through her phone.

Lucrezia spots us and waves, her dark hair falling in perfect waves around her shoulders. She's dressed in what looks like casual wear for her—jeans and a silky blouse. Daniel takes up a position near the entrance, scanning the room with dominating efficiency.

"I already ordered for us," Lucrezia says as we approach. "The lavender lattes here are divine."

I slide into the seat across from her, taking in the small vase of fresh wildflowers on the table, the heavy vintage silverware, the overall sense of elite security this place seems to offer.

It's worlds away from the coffee shops where Elliott would meet business associates, places where I'd sit silently beside him, careful not to speak unless spoken to.

"How did it go with Maria?" Lucrezia asks, her eyes glinting with interest.

"She's... intense," I admit, running my finger along the cool marble tabletop. "But I think she'll help me."

"Maria doesn't take cases she can't win," Lucrezia says with confidence. "And she especially enjoys taking down powerful men who think they're untouchable."

A server approaches with a tray of steaming mugs topped with delicate foam art. As I wrap my hands around the warm ceramic, I realize this is the first time in a while I've been with girls at a cafe without Elliott being around.

I take a sip of the lavender latte, the sweet floral notes melting on my tongue. It's delicious but I barely register the taste as my mind races with everything that's happened since I fled Austin.

"So," I say, setting down the mug and turning to Evelyn, "I've been so caught up in my own drama that I haven't even asked about you. It appears you’ve been having some adventures these past few years." Did I really say that with an edge of snark? I didn’t mean to and I see Evelyn is disconcerted.

Evelyn's fingers tense around her cup. "Well, things have changed quite a bit for me too."

"Are you still touring? Last I heard, you were heading to Europe for some prestigious concert series.

" I remember how proud our family had been when Evelyn was invited to perform with the Vienna Philharmonic.

She'd been playing violin since forever, destined for greatness from the moment she first picked up the instrument.

Evelyn exchanges a quick glance with Lucrezia before answering. "Actually, I've taken a break from performing. A rather extended one."

"What? But you love playing. You've always loved it."

"I opened a bookshop instead," she says, a small smile forming on her lips. "In the Village."

I nearly choke on my coffee. "A bookshop? You? The girl who practiced violin eight hours a day and dreamed of Carnegie Hall since kindergarten?"

"Life takes unexpected turns," Evelyn says with a shrug that seems too casual. "I needed something different. Something quieter."

I study her face, noting the shadows that cross her eyes when she mentions her former career. There's a story there—something painful she's not sharing.

"But you do still play?" I ask gently.

Her fingers twitch slightly, as if remembering the feel of strings beneath them. "Not really. No. Not anymore."

Lucrezia reaches over and squeezes Evelyn's hand, a gesture so natural it speaks of a deep friendship I hadn't realized existed between them.

"The bookshop is wonderful," Lucrezia says. "You should visit it while you're here. It has this perfect reading nook by the window."

I nod, accepting the clear change of subject. I understand boundaries better than most. Since living with Elliott I've become an expert at reading when topics are off-limits.

"I'd love to see it," I say. "I haven't had much time to read lately."

"I bet," Evelyn says, her expression softening. "How's Uncle Jim doing? I heard his back surgery went well."

"Dad's better. The surgery helped a lot.

" I hesitate, not wanting to mention that Elliott paid for everything.

That my father's medical care is one of the golden handcuffs keeping me tied to my marriage.

But that's why I managed to leave eventually.

Since the surgery went well anything else will be solved as soon as I can work again to provide financial help to them.

"He's even talking about fishing again."

The conversation drifts to safer topics—my brother Jake's college plans, Evelyn's favorite books to recommend to customers, Lucrezia's painting.

But I can't stop wondering what happened to make Evelyn abandon her lifelong passion.

She was always the dedicated one, the focused one.

The violin wasn't just something she did—it was who she was.

And then there's the other question burning in my mind: how did my classical musician cousin end up involved with a mafia family?

I wait until Lucrezia excuses herself to the restroom before leaning closer to Evelyn.

"Can I ask you something?" I keep my voice muted, even though Daniel is positioned too far away to overhear.

"Of course," Evelyn says, stirring her coffee.

"How did you..." I struggle to find the right words. "How did you get connected with the Ferettis? I mean, they seem nice and all, but they're?—"

"Dangerous?" Evelyn supplies with a wry smile. "Criminals?"

I nod, relieved she's not offended.

Evelyn glances toward the restroom door, then back at me. "It's complicated, Hazel. When I stopped performing, I was in a bad situation. Really bad." Her voice drops to a distracted whisper. "I made some mistakes, trusted the wrong person. Noah helped me when no one else would or could."

I want to ask more—what kind of trouble was she in? What happened that was so terrible she gave up the violin? But I recognize the haunted look in her eyes. It's the same one I see in the mirror.

"I get it," I say instead. "Sometimes we end up in places we never expected."

"Exactly." Evelyn reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "Life rarely follows the path we plan. But sometimes the detours lead us somewhere better."

I'm not sure I believe that yet, but I want to. I need to.

Lucrezia returns, sliding gracefully back into her seat. "What did I miss?"

"Just catching up on family stuff," Evelyn says smoothly.

I take another sip of latte, watching them over the rim of the mug. There's more to Evelyn's story—much more—but for now, I'm just grateful she's here. That she instantly understood what I needed when I called her in desperation from Elliott's bathroom.

Some questions can wait. Right now I'm just trying to breathe through one day at a time.

I'm about to take another sip when Evelyn suddenly straightens in her chair, her eyes widening.

"Hazel! Did you call home yet?" she asks, alarm creeping into her voice.

The mug freezes halfway to my lips. "What?"

"Your family. Have you called them since you left?" Evelyn's expression grows increasingly concerned. "They need to know you're safe."

My stomach drops. The lawyer's words come rushing back to me—the warnings about Elliott, about protecting my family. In the whirlwind of escaping and meeting with Maria, I'd completely...

No. That's not true. I didn't forget.

I know she's right. I've known it all along. But the thought of hearing my mother's voice, of having to explain why I ran, of possibly learning that Elliott has already started making their lives hell—it makes my chest tighten until I can barely breathe.

"What if he's already been there?" I whisper, voicing my deepest fear. "What if he's already taken everything away from them?"

Evelyn reaches across the table and takes my hand. "That's exactly why you need to call. They deserve to hear from you first."

I nod, knowing she's right. With a shaking hand I reach into my purse and pull out the sleek black phone Maria gave me earlier. It looks nothing like my rose gold iPhone that Elliott monitored constantly.

"I'll give you some privacy," Lucrezia says, standing up. "I need another pastry anyway."

Evelyn squeezes my forearm once more before following Lucrezia to the counter, leaving me alone at the table with the phone feeling impossibly heavy in my palm.

I stare at the keypad, my mother's number so familiar I could dial it in my sleep. But my fingers won't move. What will I say? How do I explain that I've left my husband, that I'm filing for divorce, that everything I've sacrificed for the past two years might have been for nothing?

Daniel shifts his position near the door, his eyes constantly scanning the café, the street through the window.

His presence reminds me that I'm not just hiding from an angry husband—I'm hiding from a dangerous man.

A man who might right now be standing in my parents' living room, demanding they tell him where I am.

I take a deep breath and dial.

Each ring feels like an eternity. My heart bangs so loudly I'm sure everyone in the café can hear the drumbeat of fear. What if Elliott answers? What if he's there right now? What if?—

"Hello?"

My mother's voice.