Chapter 2: The Art of Healing
The morning sun filtered through the heavy velvet drapes, casting long, golden fingers across the bedroom floor.
Harper woke up with a jolt, her heart hammering against her ribs. For a terrifying second, she didn’t know where she was. Then, she saw the high, coffered ceilings, the white stone fireplace, and the sprawling layout of Enzo DeLuca’s master bedroom.
She was wearing a pair of soft, dark gray silk pajamas. She vaguely remembered a kind-faced, older woman—Dr. Rossi—cleaning her back with soothing salves the night before, while Enzo stood guard at the door like a silent sentinel.
"You're awake," a quiet voice said.
Harper gasped, pulling the duvet to her chin. Enzo was sitting in an armchair by the window. He was still wearing his dress shirt, the collar unbuttoned, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms covered in dark tattoos. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes. He hadn't slept.
On the table beside him sat a tray with hot tea, toast, and fresh fruit.
"I didn't want to startle you," Enzo said, keeping his distance. "You slept for ten hours."
"My father..." Harper started, her voice barely a squeak. "He’ll want to know if... if we..."
"Your father has no power in this house," Enzo interrupted, his tone firm but devoid of the venom from the night before. "He traded you to save his skin. As far as the world is concerned, you are my wife. But inside these walls, you are a guest. You will have your own room. You will have your privacy. No one will touch you."
Harper stared at him, trying to find the catch. In her world, every kindness was a transaction. Every smile from her father had been followed by a demand, and every failure had been met with violent, systematic punishment.
"Why?" she whispered. "You hate him. You hate me."
Enzo stood up, and though Harper braced herself, he only walked to the window, looking out over the frozen expanse of Lake Michigan.
"I hated the spoiled princess I thought you were," Enzo admitted. "I wanted to break Preston Whitcomb by showing him he couldn't protect his most precious possession. But he didn't give you to me to protect you. He gave you to me because he knew what he did to you, and he wanted to hide his sins in my shadow."
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He turned back to her, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles jumped.
"My brother Nathan was a good man," Enzo said. "He believed in justice. If he were alive, he would beat me to a pulp for what I almost did to you last night. I will still destroy your father, Harper. But I won't use you to do it. From now on, we are going to do this my way."
