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“Like fuck it’s nothing,” I hiss. “Was this him!?”
She looks down. Her throat bobs heavily.
“No.”
“Are you seriously protecting?—”
“I mean it wasn’t literally him.”
Her shoulders slump as she looks down. “Like I said, he doesn’t touch me.” She exhales. “He gets his attack dog, Rocco, to do it. Massimo himself hasn’t ever actually struck me himself. I don’t know why. When he wants to, he has Rocco do it.”
“This is insane, Eloise!” I hiss. “Why in God’s name would you stay with that piece of shit?!”
Her eyes snap to mine. “Does it seriously look like I’m with Massimo?!”
“It looks like you’re fucking married to him, yes!” I rage. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you just leave?—”
“Because he’d kill my sister!”
I blink as my mouth snaps shut.
Eloise looks away, sighing.
“I know what she is, okay? I know she’s a lot to handle, and meddling, and toxic, but?—”
“Can’t pick your family,” I murmur.
“No shit,” she says bitterly. “And she’s still my sister. If my dad wasn’t in his coma? Yeah, I could talk to him, and he’d get me out of it. But until he recovers, while his greedy captains are in charge…” She barks out a laugh. “They make too much from the deals Massimo throws their way to give a shit. To them, this is just business. I’m the daughter of a mafia king, Alistair,” she chokes. “This is what I’m supposed to do.”
I exhale slowly, looking away before I turn back to her.
“Let’s get you inside.”
Upstairs in my loft, I take her through my room to the ensuite master bath to get cleaned up. I bring her some old sweats and a t-shirt of mine, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m pulling her into my arms and hugging her close before I leave so she can shower.
I don’t once think what a bad idea it is for her to be here. I don’t let myself dwell on what happens if Massimo finds out she’s here with me.
Because fuck him.
Let him come for her. I’ll break him if he does.
I’ll break anyone who comes for her.
I’m in the kitchen half an hour later when Eloise emerges from my room positively drowning in the clothes I gave her. It makes me grin.
I like her in my clothes.
Fuck, I like her here.
She pads into the kitchen and leans against the counter, wrapping her arms around herself.
“How’s the face?”
She shrugs. “It’ll be fine.”
“Here.”
I hand her a bag of frozen peas from the freezer. She smiles wryly as she takes it and holds it to the red swelling on the side of her face.
