Sins Of The Heart

Chapter Four: A Gentle Approach

Giovanni

The kitchen was filled with the soft clinks of cups and the low hum of conversation, but my mind was elsewhere.

It had been a long night, one spent thinking about Elena. I hadn't slept much, my thoughts tangled in worry. She had barely spoken yesterday, her eyes so full of fear I could practically feel it in my chest. I knew she was struggling, trying to reconcile this new life I'd forced her into. It wasn't her choice, after all, and I had to remind myself that despite my own intentions, she had every reason to be afraid.

I looked across the kitchen at my brothers, all of us lingering around the large island as we discussed things in low voices. Though I was trying to focus on the business at hand, I couldn't shake the image of her from my mind—so small and fragile as she stood in that room last night, looking at me like I might shatter her world at any moment.

She didn't trust me yet. Of course, she didn't. Trust wasn't something that could be earned in a day, especially after what she had been through, what her father had subjected her to. I had seen the way Dmitri looked at her during the wedding, the cold indifference in his eyes. It still enraged me, the way he treated her as if she were nothing more than a tool, a pawn in his power games.

But I wasn't like him. I'd make her see that, even if it took time.

"She didn't come out for dinner," Matteo, said quietly, pulling me from my thoughts. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed. "Do you think she's okay?"

I nodded, though I wasn't entirely sure. "She needs space. Time."

"She's scared of you," Luca added, his voice more serious than usual. Being 11 months older than me, he was always the practical one, rarely skirting around uncomfortable truths. "And not just you. She's probably scared of all of us."

"I know," I admitted, sighing. "But what can I do? If I push too hard, it'll only make things worse. She's still adjusting. She has no reason to trust me yet."

Angelo, always the optimist, grinned and gave me a light nudge. "She'll come around. You've got that De Luca charm, right? I'm sure she'll be falling for you in no time."

I shot him a look. He meant well, though he didn't understand the depth of what I was dealing with. This wasn't about charm. It wasn't about convincing her that I was someone she could care about. It was about proving to her that I wouldn't hurt her, that I wasn't the monster she'd built up in her mind.

Before I could say anything else, I heard the faint sound of footsteps coming down the hall. I straightened, my eyes flicking toward the entrance to the kitchen. It was her.

Elena.

She appeared in the doorway, her slender figure framed by the soft morning light. She looked hesitant, unsure, her hands fidgeting with the belt of her robe. She had probably been standing there for a moment, debating whether or not to enter. The way she shifted on her feet made it clear she was worried she might be intruding.

My chest tightened at the sight of her. She looked so small and vulnerable. But there was a strength in her too, even if she didn't realize it yet. Just coming out here, stepping into this room with us, took courage. I could see it in her eyes—the quiet resolve, the need to overcome the fear that had been weighing her down since the wedding.

Before she could retreat, I stepped forward, offering her a soft smile. "Elena, come in."

Her eyes darted toward the others, and I could see the flicker of anxiety that crossed her face. She wasn't sure if she belonged here, wasn't sure if she was welcome. I hated that look, that uncertainty. I wanted her to feel safe, to know that this house was as much hers as it was mine.