34. MARCO RUSSO

If Lia hadn't stopped me, I don't know what I might've done. The rage that surged through me when I saw that man trying to harm her—it was blinding. The thought of someone laying hands on her without consent, trying to overpower her, filled me with an anger I could barely contain.

People like that are the reason women are forced to constantly be on guard. The reason fear shadows moments that should be joyful. And knowing Lia had to endure that—again—made my blood boil.

"Please try to calm down," Lia said gently as we walked toward the pool area. Her voice, though shaken, still carried a quiet strength.

"Don't ask me to be calm after all this," I said, my voice low and rough with emotion.

She didn't argue. Just let out a soft sigh and picked up her pace when she caught sight of the others. The moment Sofia and the girls came into view, Lia rushed to them, concern etched on her face.

Even after what she'd just gone through, she still prioritized others. That's who she is—resilient, selfless, and incredibly strong.

I followed closely behind, stepping up beside Taehyung. Relief washed over me when I saw that Sofia had regained consciousness. Maybe the scare hadn't triggered anything more serious.

Lia knelt beside her, checking on her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. The quiet strength in her touch, her soft voice, the way she cared—it reminded me how lucky I was to have someone like her by my side.

Niko was wrapping a bandage around Jo's arm with quiet focus. James stood a few feet away, speaking urgently into his phone—likely updating the girls' families.

Despite the chaos, there was a growing sense of control returning to the moment. We had made it in time. But the damage—emotional, if not physical—was done. And that's what lingered the most.

"Where are those guys now?" I asked Taehyung, who was standing a few steps away, his gaze fixed on Sofia with an expression I couldn't quite read.

"They're in the hospital," he said evenly. "I doubt they'll be walking properly for at least a month." He paused, glancing back at Sofia. "Niko was really shaken. I've never seen him that emotionally charged before. He looked like the world would've stopped if anything had happened to her."

He exhaled, visibly still processing everything. "She's alright now, thankfully. But if we'd arrived any later, it could've gone south. She just has this way of walking into chaos."

There was something tender in his voice—fleeting, but there. Knowing the back-and-forth tension between him and Sofia, I wasn't sure what to make of it. Still, I couldn't help but nudge a little.

"I didn't know you cared so much," I said, raising a brow at him.

He chuckled lightly, brushing it off. "Don't get any ideas," he said with a small smirk. "She's Niko's sister and Jo's best friend—that's it."

With a shrug, he pivoted the conversation elsewhere, clearly not in the mood to elaborate.

"You're deflecting," I teased with a grin.

Meanwhile, James was crouched beside Jo, carefully wrapping a clean bandage around the gash on her forearm. He was calm and methodical, as always. A few steps away, Niko was pacing with his phone pressed to his ear, speaking in clipped, urgent tones. Probably informing their parents and coordinating whatever cleanup came next.

It wasn't over yet—but the worst had passed. And for now, that was enough.

"Maybe you should call Uncle Dante. And Lia's dad, too," Taehyung said calmly, his tone casual, almost too relaxed for the chaos we'd just witnessed.

Trying to rattle Taehyung was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands—pointless. He was always composed, even when everything else was on fire.

"They're going to find out, whether I tell them or not," I replied, exhaling slowly. "Besides, Mom and Dad are still in Italy handling the wedding prep."

"How is she? And Sofia?" I asked, clapping Niko on the back as I joined them.

"Josephine's got a minor cut on her forearm and a bit of a strain in her ankle. Nothing serious—she's walking fine. Sofia, though... she fainted before we arrived. I had to give her CPR, but she came around quickly," Niko explained.

"Will she be okay for the wedding?" Jo asked, concern written all over her face.

"She'll be able to attend," Niko assured her. "But no emotional or physical stress. She needs rest." His voice was steady, but there was something softer in his eyes as he turned back toward his sister—a rare glimpse of vulnerability in the usually unshakable Niko.

Once he walked away, I picked up a towel and gently started drying Jo's hair.

"You alright?" I asked her.

"I'm okay," she replied, then added, "How's Lia?"

"You did well out there," I said, offering her a proud smile. "I mean it. You held your ground. I'm proud of you, Jo."

She smiled faintly and looked up at me with eyes that mirrored my own. "I don't say this enough, and maybe I should," she said, her voice soft. "But I'm really lucky to have a brother like you. I love you, Marco."

I felt something shift in my chest—gratitude, pride, love. "I love you too, Jo. You're the best sister anyone could ask for."

Without a second thought, she leaned forward and hugged me tightly.

"When that guy grabbed me," she murmured against my shoulder, "I remembered the self-defense moves you taught me. I hated learning them at the time—I was so annoyed with you—but I'm glad you insisted. It saved me tonight."

I pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "That's what big brothers are for. I just wanted you to be able to protect yourself."

"So what do I owe you in return?" she teased.

"You could stop testing my patience for starters," I said with a smirk.

Jo laughed. "Oh, no. See, being the younger sibling comes with the birthright to annoy you. You're just going to have to deal with that." She stood and stretched slightly. "Anyway, I should go get changed. These scraps of fabric aren't exactly built for warmth."

"Fine," I said, nodding. "But you know I'll always be here for you, right? No matter what."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Overprotective big brother alert."

As she walked toward the dressing rooms, I couldn't help but smile. No matter how different we were—or how much we pushed each other's buttons—we had each other's backs. Always.

And in a world like this, that meant everything.

I walked back to where the others were gathered. Niko had already left with Sofia and Camilla to drop them home safely. James had disappeared into the manager's office—I could only imagine how that conversation was going. Knowing James, if he wasn't in a forgiving mood, this place would be lucky to stay open by the end of the week.

In the corner, Lia stood quietly, arms folded across her chest. She had changed into her dress and was still wearing my jacket, which hung slightly off her shoulders. She looked distant—more than just cold. Like her mind was miles away.

"Are you alright?" I asked gently, stepping beside her. I ran my fingers lightly through a damp strand of her hair that clung to her cheek.

She didn't meet my eyes. "I'm cold... and I just want to go home. I don't feel right," she whispered.

Her voice was low and tight. I could hear the tremble behind her words.

I knew this wasn't something she could just shake off. As much as she had insisted she was fine before, she wasn't—not fully. I had suggested therapy more than once, but she'd always brushed it off, saying she was strong enough on her own, that things were better now. But trauma doesn't work like that. It lingers. Sometimes silently, sometimes loud and consuming. And in Lia's case—after everything she'd endured for nearly two years—it was no surprise she was struggling.

I should've pushed harder. I should've insisted she get help. But I didn't want to force anything on her. Still, now she saw it too. And I'd make sure she had the best care, whatever she needed to heal.

"Let's go," I said softly, placing a hand around her waist. She leaned into me slightly, as if needing the anchor.

I gave Taehyung a nod, silently asking him to make sure Jo got home safely. He understood without a word.

Back at the car, Lia slipped into the passenger seat without saying anything. She sat still, looking out of the window, completely silent. Her hand was resting on her lap, and I reached over, gently lacing my fingers with hers before I started the engine.

The drive home was quiet, but it didn't feel empty. It felt like the beginning of something that needed to happen—healing. And I would be by her side through every step of it.

[...........................]

"Want to tell me what's on your mind?" I asked gently, breaking the silence. Lia sat curled on the couch, wearing one of my oversized T-shirts that hung loosely to her knees. She looked smaller than usual—quiet and pensive.

"I'm regretting my decisions," she said quietly.

"Which ones?" I asked, sitting beside her. She leaned into me, resting her head lightly on my shoulder.

"Not seeking help when you asked me to," she murmured. "If I'd listened back then, maybe I wouldn't be feeling like this now—especially not a week before the wedding."

Her voice was heavy with regret, and I could feel how much she was holding inside—blame, sadness, doubt. I wrapped my arm around her more tightly.

"It's never too late, Diamond," I told her softly. "The wedding will be beautiful, and so will you. We'll get through this—together."

I cupped her face gently, leaning in to kiss her, but she hesitated. Her lips parted slightly, then paused, and I could feel it—she wasn't ready.

So I pulled back immediately.

"It's okay," I said. "You don't need to explain. I'll always wait for you to feel safe and comfortable."

She exhaled shakily. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't feel like myself. I feel undeserving. Like I'm deceiving you. I feel... tainted. The way I used to feel after those modeling classes with Roland... when things went wrong."

She looked down, her hands clenched in her lap.

Hearing her speak so openly about that pain—it broke something in me. But I didn't interrupt. She needed to let it out.

"Lia," I said, gently taking her hand in mine, "you are not what he made you feel. You are not dirty, and you are not undeserving. You are a light that shines even in the darkest places. A lotus, blooming with beauty and strength even in muddy waters. What happened to you wasn't your fault. You're not broken. You're healing—and that's incredibly brave."

Her eyes welled with tears, and I saw a flicker of hope behind the pain.

"You're not deceiving me, and you never could," I continued. "You're honest. You're strong. You're my diamond, and I love you more every day. Will you promise me something?"

She nodded slowly, eyes locked on mine.

"Promise me you'll never again believe that you're anything less than worthy."

"I promise," she whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

I pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her as if I could absorb some of her pain. In that moment, I felt a shift—small, but real. A bit of the weight she carried had been lifted.

"I love you," she whispered into my chest. "I don't know what I would've done without you. And... I'll start therapy. I want to heal—for me, for us."

"I love you more than anything," I said, brushing my thumb over her cheek. "May I...?"

She nodded, eyes soft and open.

I leaned in and kissed her gently—nothing rushed, just a moment of understanding and closeness. As we sat wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that whatever storms lay ahead, we'd weather them side by side.