37. Epilogue
A hotel bar in Austin. A night I’ve never been able to forget.
Hazel.
The woman who’s haunted my dreams for three years.
And now she’s emerged like a ghost,haunting the Feretti mansion.
WHY? She’s escaping something?
I pace the hallway for a minute, debating. Fuck it. I need to know.
Turning back, I hesitate only a second before pushing her door open without knocking. I want to catch her off guard, need to see what she's hiding.
What I see stops me cold.
Hazel stands before the mirror, sunglasses gone, her blouse on the chair, her fingers tracing a canvas of violence painted on the beautiful skin that I once stroked with reverence.
A dark purple bruise circles her left eye. Fingerprints mark her arms. A large bruise spreads across her ribs.
She freezes when she sees me, arms crossed over her chest, eyes wide with terror.
"I—" Her voice falters.
Something primal and violent awakens inside me as I close the door with deliberate control. Every step toward her is measured, each breath carefully regulated as I fight the rage threatening to consume me.
I reach for her face, and when she flinches— Christ, she flinches —I gently tilting her chin to examine the bruise around her eye. My gaze catalogs every mark, every bruise, committing every single one to memory.
When I finally speak, I barely recognize my own voice.
"Who. Did. This. To. You."
I have only one thought hammering in my head:
Someone is going to die for this.
Matteo’s story continues in Ruined By Protection