Page 33 of Ruined By Protection (Feretti Syndicate #5)

Matteo

I floor the gas pedal, forcing through gaps in the traffic like a missile locked on target. Every second counts.

"How the fuck did we miss this? Montgomery was supposed to be under constant surveillance!" I ask Daniel.

"I don't understand it either," Daniel's voice is tense and focused. "Our guys swear he hasn't left the hotel. They’re adamant that he's still in his room."

"Well, they're fucking wrong!" I swerve around a taxi. "He's got Evelyn at the bookshop!"

"That's impossible," Daniel says. "I just got confirmation. Thirty minutes ago room service delivered his lunch."

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white. "What the hell are you saying? That this piece of shit can be in two places at the same time?"

My mind races through possibilities. A decoy? Someone helping him? Whatever the trick, it doesn't matter. What matters is getting to the bookshop before Montgomery hurts Evelyn—or uses her to drag Hazel into his trap.

The image of Hazel's face when she got that call flashes in my mind. The terror in her eyes. The monster has already taken so much from her, I won't let him take more.

"Check if Montgomery has a twin or some shit," I say, only half-joking as I blow through a red light, causing a swerving mess of blaring horns.

"Already looking into associates, family members, anyone who could be helping him," Daniel says tapping on his phone rapidly.

Good. We're closing in. I take a sharp turn, tires screeching, ignoring the startled pedestrians jumping back from the crosswalk.

I screech to a halt outside Evelyn's bookshop. Daniel and I hurl ourselves into the cafe. The place looks like a hurricane hit it—books scattered across the floor, shelves toppled, glass shattered everywhere.

"Evelyn!" I shout, scanning the chaos for any sign.

The place seems deserted then I spot them in the back corner. Noah's holding Evelyn tight against his chest, her body heaving with sobs. The look on Noah's face freezes my blood. I've seen him irate before but this is different. This is the face of a man about to unleash hell.

"What happened?" I ask, holstering my weapon as I approach them.

Noah's eyes lock to mine. "That motherfucker is going to suffer." His voice is terrifyingly calm, the kind of calm that comes before someone gets buried.

I look over Evelyn, checking for injuries. "Is she hurt?"

"No, thank God," Noah says, his arms tightening protectively around her. "But he had his hands on her, threatened her. That's enough."

Daniel circles the shop, checking every corner, gun still ready. "Clear," he calls out. "No sign of him."

"He's not an amateur," Noah says, stroking Evelyn's hair as she cries. "He knew exactly what he was doing. Came in through the back, disabled the security cameras first. Wore gloves, face covered."

"This doesn't make sense," I mutter, pacing through the wreckage. "Montgomery's a rich pussy prick who beats women. Since when does he have tactical skills?"

"He planned this," Evelyn says between sobs. "He knew exactly what to say to make me think he was a customer. Then he just... changed. Like flipping a switch."

I scrape my hand through my hair, frustration building. "Daniel, call Marco. I want every inch of surveillance footage from within ten blocks. Traffic cams, ATMs, everything."

"Already on it," Daniel replies, phone to his ear.

I look back at Noah and Evelyn, thinking of Hazel at the mansion. The terror in her eyes when she realized Montgomery had gotten to Evelyn.

"We need to get back to the compound," I say. "If he's this organized he might have more planned."

Noah continues to comfort Evelyn, his normally unreadable face a mask of barely-controlled rage. I've seen that look before—it's the face of a man calculating the most painful way to end someone's life.

"You're staying at the Feretti compound until we neutralize him," he tells Evelyn, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Evelyn pulls back slightly, wiping tears from her face. "Hazel won't want you to kill him," she says. "She's not—she wouldn't want that."

Noah's laugh is void of all feeling. "I don't care what she wants. You could have been killed by this psycho. He put his hands on you." His voice drops dangerously. "Nobody touches you Evelyn."

I step forward, my own rage bubbling just beneath the surface. "He's already a dead man walking," I say, my voice hard as steel. "Has been since the day I saw Hazel's body and what he'd done to it."

Evelyn's eyes lift to study my face with a strange fervor. Her tears have stopped, replaced by a vehement look I wouldn't have expected.

"Why do you care?" she asks, eyes narrowed. "About Hazel, I mean."

The question catches me off guard. I feel Daniel and Noah both examining me now.

"We need to move," I tell Noah, ignoring Evelyn's question. "Now. If he's coordinated enough to pull this off while having someone maintain his cover at the hotel he must have more planned."

Noah nods, helping Evelyn to her feet, but she doesn't break her stare, like she's trying to read something written in small print on my face.

"Let's go," I say, turning to the door. "Daniel, you drive Evelyn's car back. Noah and Evelyn are with me."

I feel Evelyn's eyes drilling into my back as I walk out. She knows. Somehow she knows there's something between Hazel and me. But right now that's the least of my problems.

Hazel

I pace circles around the living room, unable to keep still. My heart pounds at my chest wall like it's trying to break out. This is all my fault. If I hadn't come here, if I'd just disappeared somewhere else, Elliott wouldn't have gone after Evelyn.

"Hazel, please sit down. You're making me dizzy," Lucrezia says from the couch.

"I can't." My voice sounds strange, stretched thin with panic. "Damiano said twenty minutes. It's been twenty-three."

I check my phone again—no messages.

"They'll be here any minute," Lucrezia assures me. "Noah would die before letting anything happen to Evelyn."

I cross my arms over myself, trying to hold in the guilt that threatens to tear me apart. "Elliott went after her because of me. He used her to get to me."

"No, Elliott went after her because he's a monster," Lucrezia says firmly. "This is not your fault."

I hear tires crunching gravel outside and my heart leaps into my throat. I rush to the window, pushing the heavy curtain aside to see headlights cutting through the darkness.

"They're here!" I don't wait for Lucrezia as I bolt for the front door, yanking it open and running down the steps.

The black car rolls to a stop. Noah emerges first from the driver's side, his face grim. Then the back door opens and Evelyn steps out, looking shaken but unharmed. Her hair is disheveled and there's a small tear in her sleeve, but she's standing without support.

I exhale so deeply I feel lightheaded, relief raining over me in a dizzying wave.

"Evelyn!" I throw my arms around her, holding her tight. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

She hugs me back, her body trembling slightly. "Stop that. This is not your fault, Hazel."

"He went after you because of me?—"

"No," Evelyn pulls back, gripping my shoulders. "He went after me because he's a controlling psychopath who can't stand losing what he thinks he owns."

Daniel and Matteo emerge from the car last. Matteo's face is stone-etched, his jaw chiseled as he scans the surroundings. Even in the dim light from the house I can see the treacherous glint in his eyes.

"Let's get inside," Noah says, placing a protective hand on Evelyn's back.

We move toward the house where Lucrezia waits at the door. Once inside, Damiano and Zoe join us in the foyer, their expressions concerned.

Matteo steps closer to me, his voice low and intense. "We didn't catch him. He was gone before we got there."

"But we know where he's staying," Daniel adds.

"We'll get him soon," Matteo says, his eyes diving deep into mine. "I promise you that."

His tone makes my skin crawl. I take a step back, putting distance between us.

"You can't kill him." The words tumble out of my mouth before I think it through.

Matteo's expression darkens. "The fuck I can't."

"Matteo—" Damiano warns but Matteo cuts him off with a raised hand.

"No, I want to hear this." He steps toward me, closing the space again, as his voice rises in frustrated rage.

"You think this is kindergarten? That I'm going to give him a lollipop and tell him he must not continue hunting you and whoever you love?

He attacked Evelyn to get to you. He's not going to stop because you're divorcing him. "

His words are like a slap. Heat rushes to my cheeks and suddenly I see red.

"Don't you dare talk to me like I'm stupid," I snap, stepping in to him instead of backing away. "I know exactly what Elliott is capable of. I lived with him for two years."

"Then you should know?—"

"What I know," I cut him off, my voice trembling with anger, "is that killing someone, even the filthiest man alive, makes you no better than him."

The room goes silent.

Matteo's face goes completely blank, a mask sliding into place. His eyes, usually so expressive, turn to granite.

He nods once–a sharp, military gesture–then turns and walks out of the room without another word.

The silence that follows feels suffocating. I suddenly realize everyone is looking at me.

Damiano steps forward, his presence filling the room. Unlike Matteo's hot rage, Damiano's anger is ice-cold, controlled but no less deadly.

"Hazel," he says, his voice deceptively calm. "Come with me."

It's not a request.

I follow him into his office with trembling legs. He gestures for me to sit. I perch on the edge of a leather chair, feeling like a scolded child.

Damiano doesn't sit. He stands by the window, looking out into the darkness for a long moment before turning to face me.

"You need to understand something about this house," he says finally. "About us."

I swallow hard but don't speak.

"In this house we deal with men who disrespect children, women, or those weaker than themselves." His Italian accent grows thicker with emotion. "Men who abuse power. Men who believe they own people."

He moves to his desk, resting his fingertips on its polished surface.

"This might look to you the same as what your husband was doing to you," he continues, "but it fucking isn't."

The curse word snaps like a whip in the quiet room.

"Elliott hurt you because he enjoyed it. Because he believed he owned you. We eliminate men like him because they will never stop. They cannot be reasoned with. They cannot be rehabilitated."

I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling cold although the room is warm.

"You need to rest, Hazel. You've been through hell." His tone softens, just slightly. "But we need to do what we know best. Because today it's you, and you are lucky to have Evelyn who happens to be part of this family."

He straightens up, his eyes hard as flint.

"But tomorrow it might be another woman in your position and she may be killed because her husband would take pleasure in beating the life out of her. And she might not have us to protect her."

His statement drops like a bomb. I hadn't thought about it in that way.

"When you spoke rudely about Matteo," Damiano says, "you included all of us."

Shame washes over me. I hadn't meant to but he's right. I lumped them all together with Elliott.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, barely audible. "I didn't mean?—"

"You did," Damiano cuts me off. "And I understand why. Your world has been black and white. Elliott showed you the darkest black possible. So you believe anything resembling violence must be the same shade."

He walks around the desk and leans on its edge, directly before me now.

"But there are many shades of gray between black and white, Hazel. We live in those shades."

I look up at him, trying to assimilate his meaning.

"The men in this family protect what is theirs. Yes, sometimes with violence. But never for pleasure. Never for control. Always for protection."

I think about Matteo's face when he saw my bruises. The rage in his eyes wasn't for himself—it was for me.

"Matteo cares for you," Damiano says, reading my thoughts. "More than he should, perhaps. He wants to protect you."

"By killing Elliott?" I ask, my voice small.

"By eliminating a threat that will never stop hunting you." Damiano's voice is matter-of-fact. "Elliott has already shown he will hurt anyone to get to you. Next time it might not be just a threat. Next time someone might die."

The truth of his words sinks in. Elliott will never stop. He proved that by going after Evelyn.

"I understand if you cannot accept this," Damiano continues. "Not everyone is meant for our world. But do not mistake what we do for what Elliott did to you."

I sit there, absorbing his words, feeling his chastening force a shift inside me. The black and white world I've lived in starts to blur into shades of gray.

"I should apologize to Matteo," I say finally.

Damiano nods. "Yes, you should. But not tonight. Give him time to cool off." He stands. "Rest now. We'll handle things from here."

As I rise to leave the Don’s office a strange calm settles over me. I've spent two years living in fear of a monster wearing a respectable face. Maybe what I need now isn't respectability.

Maybe what I need are monsters who admit their failings as well as their powers.