Chapter 35
I wake up with gritty eyes and a hollow chest. The morning light filters through my curtains, mocking me with its cheerfulness. I didn't sleep—just drifted in and out of consciousness, haunted by Daniel's face when he'd discover I'm gone.
My wedding dress hangs on the closet door like a ghost. Again. In a few hours, I'll be Mrs. Sartori.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. The door opens, and Sienna slips in. Her face is drawn with worry as she approaches my bed.
"Hey," she says softly, sitting beside me. "I brought you some tea."
I take the cup but don't drink. "Thanks."
Sienna looks down at her hands. "I feel completely useless," she whispers. "After everything you've done for us—for me—and I can't do anything to help you now."
I shake my head. "You don't owe me anything, Sienna."
"But you stood up for every single woman in this circle," she insists, her blue eyes intense. "Me, Zoe, Evelyn, Melania, Hazel. You've been our rock, our protector. And now, when you need us most, none of us can stand by your side."
I think about what Sienna endured. Years of abuse from her father, being trafficked, surviving horrors I can barely imagine. Yet here she is, worried about me.
"That's not how love works," I tell her, finding her hand and squeezing it. "Giving care and support isn't a counting thing. If I helped you expecting something back, then it wasn't real in the first place."
Tears fill Sienna's eyes. "But it's not fair."
"Life rarely is," I say, attempting a smile that feels more like a grimace. "At least I got to experience something real with Daniel, even if it was just for a moment."
Sienna holds both my hands now. "Enzo really wanted to help you, you know. He's like a ghost walking around these past few days." She hesitates. "He came home last night and told me what you said to them in the office."
My throat tightens. "What did he say?"
"That you accused them of caring more about their business than about you." Sienna's voice drops. "He was devastated, Lucrezia. He said it was like looking at you after... after what happened with Byron's men. Like you'd given up again."
Pain lances through me. "What choice do I have? If I don't marry Bruno, Daniel dies. Damiano made that very clear."
"Enzo doesn't agree with Damiano," Sienna says carefully. "He thinks there has to be another way."
Hope flickers in my chest before I ruthlessly extinguish it. "There isn't. Not in time."
Sienna's eyes shine with unshed tears. "You love him, don't you? Daniel."
Do I love him? I've never said the words, not even to myself. But the ache in my chest when I think of never seeing him again tells me everything I need to know.
"I don't know if it's called love. But I can't handle living knowing that something happened to him. If that's love, then yes." I whisper. "I do."
Sienna squeezes my hands. "I'll be there with you today. We all will. And whatever happens after, we'll face it together."
I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
Sienna tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression softening. "Everyone's downstairs, actually. It's Saturday, so..."
"Family breakfast," I finish for her. The tradition we've kept for years—pancakes and coffee and everyone gathered around the massive dining table, laughing and talking over each other.
My chest aches at the thought. This will be my last one as Lucrezia Feretti. By dinner, I'll be Lucrezia Sartori.
"You don't have to come," Sienna adds quickly. "I told them you might want to be alone. But I thought... I don't know, maybe you'd want to see everyone together one more time before..."
Part of me wants to hide under the covers until they drag me to the altar. But another part wants to memorize every face, every laugh, every moment with my family before I'm handed over to Bruno.
"I'll come down," I say, pushing myself up. "Give me fifteen minutes to get ready."
Sienna's face brightens. "Really? You're sure?"
"Yeah." I swing my legs over the side of the bed. "I can't hide forever, right?"
"I'll tell them you're coming." Sienna stands, hesitating at the door. "Lu?"
"Hmm?"
"You're the strongest person I know. Whatever happens today... just remember that."
The door closes behind her, and I'm left alone with her words echoing in my head. Strong? I don't feel strong. I feel like I'm breaking into a million pieces.
I drag myself to the bathroom.
I splash cold water on my face and brush my teeth. I pull my hair into a messy bun and throw on leggings and an oversized sweater. As always.
As I head for the door, my gaze catches on the painting hanging above my bed. A sunset over the Mediterranean that I painted after a trip to Italy with my brothers when I was sixteen.
I touch the canvas gently, tracing the brushstrokes with my fingertips.
I make my way downstairs, each step heavier than the last. The usual Saturday morning sounds are missing. No laughter, no bickering, no Ettore complaining about too many cooks in his kitchen. Just silence.
When I reach the dining room, they're all there, seated around our massive table. Damiano at the head, Zoe beside him. Enzo and Sienna on one side, Alessio and Melania across from them. Matteo and Hazel fill in the remaining spots. Eight people who make up my world.
They look up when I enter, conversations dying instantly. The tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Morning," I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears.
Damiano nods stiffly. "Lucrezia."
I slide into my usual chair, feeling their eyes on me. Ettore appears silently with a cup of coffee, placing it in front of me with a gentle squeeze to my shoulder before disappearing back to the kitchen.
The table is laden with pancakes, fruit, and pastries. But no one's eating much. Plates sit half-full, forks pushing food around aimlessly.
I look at each of them in turn. Damiano's face is carved from stone, his jaw tight.
Zoe keeps glancing between him and me, worry etched into her features.
Enzo won't meet my eyes, his knuckles white around his coffee mug.
Sienna watches me with sad understanding.
Alessio and Melania exchange uncomfortable glances.
Matteo stares at his plate like it personally offended him, while Hazel's eyes are red-rimmed.
This isn't our normal Saturday breakfast. This is a wake.
"How's Evelyn?" I ask suddenly, realizing I never checked on her after everything that happened.
Matteo's head snaps up, surprise flickering across his face before it hardens again.
"She's okay," he says, his voice clipped. "Still can't eat much. The doctors say the poison did a number on her stomach lining." He stabs a piece of pancake. "They're staying home this morning. They'll come later for the... wedding."
He spits out the last word like it tastes foul, and I feel a rush of gratitude for his honesty.
"I'm glad she's recovering," I say softly.
Silence falls again, heavy and uncomfortable. Forks scrape against plates. Someone clears their throat.
I pick up my coffee cup, more for something to do with my hands than any desire to drink. The rich aroma that usually comforts me now turns my stomach.
"The flowers arrived an hour ago," Zoe says, clearly trying to break the tension. "They're beautiful. The florist did an amazing job with such short notice."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
"The cake too," Hazel adds, her voice small. "It's... it's lovely."
"Great," I manage. "That's... great."
Enzo makes a sound that might be a scoff or a laugh, but when I look at him, his face is carefully blank.
"Riccardo called," Damiano says, his voice all business. "They'll be here at eleven to help with final preparations."
I feel my body go rigid at the mention of the Sartoris. In just a few hours, I'll be one of them.
"Wonderful," I say, the word hollow.
This is torture. Sitting here with the people I love most in the world, knowing that after today, everything will be different.
I set my coffee cup down with a decisive click. The sound makes everyone look up.
"I need to ask you all a favor," I say, my voice steadier than I expected.
Damiano's eyebrow rises slightly. "What is it?"
"I want everyone to be themselves. Just for the next hour.
" I look around the table, meeting each pair of eyes.
"I need to laugh. I need to hear Matteo's terrible jokes and Enzo's sarcastic comments.
I need Alessio to roll his eyes at both of them while Melania hacks something on her phone under the table. "
"I don't want this funeral atmosphere," I continue. "Not yet. There'll be plenty of time for that later."
No one speaks for a moment. Then Hazel reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
"We can do that," she says softly.
I take a deep breath. "And I need to apologize for something. Yesterday, I implied that Damiano and Enzo failed to protect me from Byron's men." I look directly at my brothers. "That wasn't fair. What happened wasn't your fault."
Enzo's jaw tightens, but he gives a small nod.
"But," I add, my voice hardening, "I don't regret anything else I said. And Damiano, I won't forgive you for putting a hit on Daniel. That's a line you shouldn't have crossed."
Damiano's face remains impassive. He won't show any crack on his posture.
"Just give me this morning," I plead. "A few hours of peace before the storm. I want to see the babies, hear about Evelyn's recovery, listen to Matteo tell that ridiculous story about the time he had to pretend to be a chef in Milan."
Matteo's lips quirk up. "It was Rome, actually."
"See?" I say, a genuine smile breaking through. "That's what I need."
The tension in the room shifts, not disappearing but transforming into something more bearable.
"The babies are napping," Zoe says, "but they should be up soon."
"I'll go get them when they wake," Damiano offers, his voice softer than before.
Suddenly, I look around the table and something hits me. Each person sitting here has found their other half. Damiano has Zoe. Enzo has Sienna. Alessio has Melania. Matteo has Hazel. Even Noah has Evelyn.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest, surprising even me. It quickly transforms into a sob.
"What is it?" Sienna asks gently.
"I just realized," I say, wiping at my eyes, "how truly happy I am seeing all of you with the people you love most in the world."
Hazel's eyes fill with tears.
"Each of you found someone who sees you," I continue, my voice breaking. "Really sees you. And loves you anyway. Even with all the darkness and complications of this life."
"Lucrezia—" Damiano starts, but I shake my head.
"No, it's okay. I'm not saying this to make anyone feel guilty. I'm saying it because it's beautiful. What you all have is beautiful."
I take a shaky breath and manage a wobbly smile.
"Now, who's going to pass me those pancakes? And Matteo, I want to hear that Rome story. The full version this time."