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“Amelia.” Enzo’s hushed tone cracks through the silence in my bathroom, and I freeze. “I knew I shouldn’t have just let you leave earlier.”

“I’m fine,” I say, and continue to lift the stupid plaster from my thigh. “Nothing a quick clean-up won’t solve.”

“Let me see,” Enzo says, trying to get a look at my leg.

I shake my head, not willing to accept help easily. “Why are you up anyway?” I ask coldly, hoping my hostility toward him will make him leave. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” he counters, disregarding my off behavior. I could tell he hadn’t been asleep by the way his voice traveled so clearly. “I knew you were hurt, but I also know how much self-preservation you have, so I stayed but only to cover for you with the others. When I came home and found you asleep, I decided to leave you, but I haven’t managed to catch a wink of sleep since.” He gives me a sympathetic look when I look at him. “When I heard movement, I knew it was you.”

“I’m okay,” I admonish, my voice so small I’m amazed it even traveled through the dead air.

Enzo steps into the room, and I know that once again, my savior is here to see through the masks and facades I wrap so vehemently around myself. “Far from it, Lia,” he tells me, his tone such a gentle note that I know that finally I’m getting the father I always wait for from Salvatore.

It’s as his hand comes to touch my arm and I’m braced with physical contact that the cracks I’ve been clinging onto throb and all the ties I’ve used to hold myself together begin to break. I shatter and I’m finally entering my freefall, but now I’m too weak to fly.

I know it’s time to ask for help. I can no longer do this on my own.

I sigh, knowing I’m not going to get away with this anymore. Taking a deep breath, I begin to turn on the spot, bringing my leg down, trying hard not to jolt my leg and cause more pain to it. I remove my hand from my thigh, my own blood staining its palm, and prepare myself to look up at my brother.

“Your leg,” he gasps, horror lacing around him. Immediately, he’s on his knees before me, inspecting the still bleeding wound. I trust Enzo to care for me, after years of being one of the leads in this family, he’s picked up a thing or two about treating scrapes, grazes, cuts. “Fuck, Lia. You shouldn’t have left this. You shouldn’t have hidden this!”

“It barely went in,” I comment softly, looking up at the ceiling as he suddenly pushes one of my luxury bathroom towels to my leg. “It’s not the worst thing to have happened to me.”

“It’s the worst thing right now,” he tells me, his voice now gruff with worry. “I’m going to go downstairs and grab the first aid kit and we’ll get you cleaned up.” He stands, taking the towel away and begins to lead me back to my bed, his arms wrapped around me as if he knows I’m just too fragile to master one short distance alone. “Sit.”

He leaves but not until he plants a kiss onto the top of my head.

Once I’m alone, the quietness taunts me. Now, abandoned and isolated, every fleeting emotion I tried to ignore comes back with a furious vengeance. The one that wins above them all is guilt. It reigns on, destroying every fiber of me, rendering me weaker than I already feel. I tore apart another woman’s happiness just to get a glimpse of mine. I have never been shown the true effects of my actions until then. Of course, my mind had wondered if families were out there somewhere looking for those who have been killed due to the name of the Dio Lavoro. But never had I dwelled. Pippa was all my hits incarnate. She represented more than Marius’ death. She was the biggest person to tear me down because she was living proof that I’m a destroyer. I destroy lives, loves, families, and futures. My destruction knows no end because of who I’ve become.

I slip from my bed and pull my knees up to my chest. The ice melts from around me, thawing out my entire being, and I’m left with the mess I kept so well hidden. I’m not brutal or heartless. I’m damaged and doing anything to not meet my own death sentence. Yet in doing so, I’m only slowly killing myself. I ruin people’s lives merely to see a new day – how long can I live with that destructiveness guiding me?

Burying my head in my hands, I cry unashamedly. Now, after months, I don’t care who sees, who will hear me, or who will find me. Cathartically, I shed every ounce of shame, grief, and horror I’ve lived with along with the woefulness that’s become a vast friend of mine. My legs pull closer to my chest and I try my fucking hardest to make myself as small as possible. I release my head, only to wrap my arms around my legs and bury my head into the concave my legs have formed.

I hear feet pad across the wooden flooring of my room, traveling closer, the speed fastening until arms wrap around me and I find myself in the solace Enzo always offers me. I didn’t think it was plausible to cry harder than I am, but I dissolve furthermore. I collapse against his chest, my hands gripping his top, as my cries turn into howls and I just let everything flow free.

He holds me, his hand rubbing soothing circles onto my back, as he remains silent and just listens to my every cry. Unquestioningly, he becomes everything I need and without me so much as trying to verbalize what it is I actually want. My big brother is so much more than the heir to the Abbiati name. He’s the warrior, the protector, the lover, the one who morphs to become whatever we need him to be. He’s the true father of this dysfunctional family and I cannot thank whatever God is looking down on me for allowing me such a man to call my brother. I would’ve sunk into the deepest pit of hell without him to keep me steady and strong.

“Talk to me,” Enzo speaks, but only when my cries begin to soften. He pulls himself away from me, keeping me close enough to look, but far enough to get an explanation from me. “What’s brought this on?”

"I'm a monster, Enzo, and the only reason I can see why is because I had my heart broken." And that’s the truth of the matter. Everything that has happened until this point is a doctrine of effects because I was allowed to follow my heart and I wore it so proudly on my sleeve for Zane until he took off and left me shattered and impressionable.

"Twice by the same guy," he states, trying to make it sound like I'm an automatic exception that should be pardoned.

"I'm not the only person to go through that. But I lost so much in one day, and before I knew it, I was too far gone. I know I'm not worth a savior anymore. I know I don't deserve one and I don't deserve some form of redemption. I'm a killer and there are only two scenarios for people like me," I say and look up at my brother with watery eyes and trembling lip. "Prison or death."

“No,” he whispers aghast. “Lia, you cannot let whatever our father has presented you with to define what you become forever. We have all done things we are not happy with, things that will haunt us for life, but you cannot allow that to decide where you end up in life.”

“Why not?” I ask back, my voice a pained rasped. “I destroy people’s lives, and for what? To get some small glimpse of satisfaction from a man I call Papà?” I look at him, my incredulity mounting. “Do you know how disappointed Madre would be if she were to be here now? She’d hate us all for allowing Papà to rule us like he does. He ruined us, Enzo. He ruined me.”

“You aren’t ruined,” he admonishes, not allowing my statement to burrow itself into him. “We aren’t ruined, Amelia. I won’t allow it. Do you hear me? I stayed in this family to make sure there was some sort of future. I didn’t want it to take this long, but it has. The girl who first fell in love with Maverick might be gone, but she’s replaced by a stronger being.” I start to shake my head, which forces his grip to tighten onto me. “Yes, you are. I know there are some unspeakable things you’ve done, things that you seem hell-bent on believing have warped you, but if that were true, you wouldn’t fight back anymore. You would let Papà have his way and you wouldn’t think twice about other people who stand in your way if you were giving up. You wouldn’t be remorseful, you wouldn’t see yourself as a sinner, and you certainly wouldn’t be sitting here professing you’re a monster.”

His triad is intense, so full of depth and belief in me, but my own sorrow is getting the better of me. His hand slips down my arms until they’re holding my hands and I know – much like Zane – Enzo won’t let me continue to slander myself.

“You wouldn’t feel anything you’ve had to do and you certainly wouldn’t be the girl crying by the side of her bed. You’d be pleased with yourself for the trail of ruins you leave behind. Like Giovanni is. He’s a monster. He’s corrupt through to the soul, but you, Lia, you are never going to be like him.”

"I," I begin to say but I freeze. The memories course through me like an infection, rendering me weaker and weaker. But as Enzo's hand tightens around mine, I feel some strength gravitate back toward me. "I had to kill a man and let him die in my arms. I wasn't allowed to remove the knife after I had stabbed him. Alberto kept yelling at me to drag the knife downwards, but when I started to, the man begged me to stop. That was my point of no return. It didn’t matter how many men I killed here, being there with Alberto destroyed all my hope.”

I look up and Enzo reaches to wipe my tears away. He doesn’t speak again, waiting for me to continue.

“I had all these grand plans when I came home. So many ways to make it through this life, but they all came crashing down the moment I was back here. I was going to be ruthless; I was going to make him hate what he had made of his daughter. I wanted Papà to see that I was a monster, but the moment I saw you, and then Zane, I lost it. My resolve disappeared, and I felt myself revert back to the girl you fight for. The one I want to be more like. I live with this facade, hoping and praying that it’ll make it all easier for me, but the guilt and the shame never lessens.”

“And tonight proved how it’ll never lessen, I suppose?” he asks, guessing completely what is going on in my head.

I nod my head, my lip beginning to quivering. “Every day it feels like it’s getting harder to breathe. I don’t know when the last time I drew an easy breath was and it’s scaring me to think I ever will again. Enzo, I don’t want to live like this when it’s going to be the death of me.”

I watch Enzo close his eyes as if my words have mortally impacted him.

They always say the truth will set you free, but mine just seems to scar those around me, all the while killing me. If being truthful has this effect, why would I ever confide in anyone again?

“Sometimes I wonder why we fight,” I whisper, my words almost a whimper upon themselves.

“All things worth having are worth fighting for,” Enzo preaches without a second thought, but I see even he cannot wholly believe that.

“What if you’re all out of fight?” I ask, showing that he isn’t alone.

Suddenly, my brother takes on a whole different life. The solemn, mournful look of remembrance disperses and his blue eyes liven up. It’s almost as if restored hope has entered his system and he’s now no longer dwelling on things he let go in the past.

“You’ve been broken from the scars you forgave, Lia. It’s time to stop running.”

“If you feel like you’re all out of fight, let us do it for you.” He gives a small smile, one that radiates with comfort and sincerity. “Let me do it for you, because I have all the fight in the world to give to see us out of this hell hole. Seeing you like this has me wanting to fight more. Let me fight for you.”

“You already do,” I counter, trying in vain that he might give up the crusade to protect me now.

“Not enough,” he rebukes me, shaking his head violently as he disregards me. “Let those who love you fight in your corner until you can do it again. Don’t try and silence what it is you feel because you think it’ll be better to do so. Don’t become something Papà expects, because my little sister is anything but what Salvatore Abbiati wants her to be. Until you find her again and can find that feisty attitude again, I’ll be here beating off anyone that dare touch you.”

“But where does that leave Zane?” I ask, immediately my heart throbs at the thought of how he slots into this shitty equation we call life.

“You tell me,” Enzo responds, turning the question back to me.

I shrug, not sure where to begin with answering him. I spend a few seconds mulling over it. We’re some twisted Romeo and Juliet story, but modernized and destined for more than a short-lived love affair. He’s the beginning of my end. The man who makes me feel absolutely everything. He’s the reason why my conscious sings, why my hope thrives, and he is the very reason I have to relinquish my hold on my sanity.

“He’s the silence in my chaos,” I whisper, feeling that all-familiar lump forming in my throat. I feel my breathing become more shallow, and I fight to swallow the ball of dread currently suffocating me. “But I have no right to be that greedy with his life. He cannot be my hero when I’m not worth the rescue. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.”

“I hate how much you carry with you.” Enzo’s voice is rougher than ever now. He’s almost haunted by what he’s watching me become, this shell of my former self and I feel guiltier than ever in allowing him to see my fall. “You are destroying yourself with this warped idea of yourself.” I watch his eyes graze across my entire face before he continues. “The girl you seem to think you’ve become; this sad, irreparable one who disbelieves everything that used to keep her alive isn’t the real you. You’ve gotten lost in the mess we’ve made and the
duties
you’ve been asked to perform.” His eyes still upon mine, capturing my attention so intently I feel nervous under the ferocity of it all. “I don’t believe for one second you deserve to not be saved. And if by chance, that day ever does come, I’ll be one of those striving to hold onto you regardless.”