A/N: I'm sorry for the ridiculously long time it's taken for me to update this story, but I lost my inspiration for it and then I had exams and then I started university, so life's been pretty hectic lately. Also, my apologies for the abysmally short length of this chapter, but I hope it doesn't disappoint (too much). Merry Christmas!

As he held Caterina's trembling form in his arms, Ezio vowed to make Alberto pay for what he'd done. To violate a woman in such a way was unforgivable and he simply would not allow the fiend to get away with it.

It was after a long time of silence that she looked up at him, the tears in her eyes sparkling in the light of the moon, and said, "Thank you, Ezio."

He smiled gently. It faded when his eyes wandered to the angry red mark and the small cut on her cheek from where Alberto had struck her. "Let's get you home," he said, stooping to pick her mask up off the ground.

The walk back to Caterina's house was a silent one, though not at all awkward. It was a time for reflection. All thoughts about Marco Barbarigo and his mission were pushed right to the edges of his mind, temporarily forgotten. All he could think about was finding and hurting Alberto as he had hurt Caterina.

He ushered her up to her room, insisting that he was going to see to her sore cheek and insisting that he was perfectly capable of finding a bowl, a cloth and some water all by himself. It didn't take him long to find a small bowl to fill with water, and he found a small vial of ointment that should reduce the swelling on her cheek. He took a moment to admire her decor; it was so fine it surely belonged to a woman of wealth. Ornate bookcases filled with books lined the walls, and where there were no bookcases, there were beautiful – and hellishly expensive, he could imagine – paintings. None by Leonardo though, he concluded, or none of Leonardo's that he'd seen, anyway.

When he entered her room she was sitting at the dressing table, her hands hiding her face as quieted sobs escaped her lips. He set the bowl down next to her and touched her shoulder lightly, unable to find words that would comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured shakily.

"Why?" He asked, puzzled.

"I'm sure you weren't planning on spending your night with a sobbing wreck like me," she explained, "you probably have better places to be; better people to see."

If only she knew I'd been searching for her at the carnevale the entire eve, Ezio mentally sighed. "I'm not going anywhere, Caterina," he said, his tone warm but with an edge of finality. "There is no place better to be than here or person better to see, than you, bella."

She looked up at him with fresh tears in her eyes and he saw the faintest of smiles flicker briefly across her lips before it became a grimace. She touched her throbbing cheek lightly. "The ring he was wearing made it worse."

Ezio reached into the bowl and wrung out the cloth, gently placing it over the scarlet, swollen skin to soothe. "You knew him, didn't you?"

She closed her eyes and nodded solemnly. "He used to court me. He was a gentleman, once upon a time…"

"He changed?"

"The moment I told him I didn't love him," she said. "We'd been together for quite some time, but… I think I was in love with the idea of being with him, rather than in love with him. When I realised my true feelings, I knew I couldn't live the lie anymore." She stared ruefully at her reflection in the mirror. "I shouldn't have led him on as I did… now I've paid the price for my foolishness…"

"No," Ezio shook his head, locking eyes with her reflection. "No. I won't allow you to blame yourself for what that bastardo has done." He covered her hand as it rested on the dresser with one of his own. The other still remained holding the damp, cooling cloth in place. "There is no excuse for his behaviour."

"I…" she began, closing her eyes as she tried to fight back more tears. "What you saved me from… it was not the first time he's tried." A single tear escaped down her cheek from the outer corner of her eye. "But it was the first time he failed." He felt his heart break for her, then. Whatever resolve she'd been holding crumbled and she broke down again, weeping violently. He put the cloth back into the bowl and pulled her into an embrace, gently stroking her hair.

"He won't hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

She pulled away slightly so that she could look at his face. He watched as her trembling fingers grazed the metal of the hidden blade encased in leather, and when he shifted his gaze to hers, it was a silent but sombre request. "He is no longer the man I used to know."

"Caterina…"

"Please, Ezio," the conviction in her voice and the sorrow in her hazel eyes made it impossible for him to say no to her.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked. She was emotional and could quite easily make rash decisions that she would later regret. He wouldn't feel any guilt for killing Alberto, but Caterina might for asking him to do so. He didn't want her to have to suffer that for the rest of her life.

"I have never been so sure of anything in my life."

Ezio nodded soberly. "Tell me where to find him."

"The San Polo district," she replied. "He is an art merchant, and owns his own business near the Ponte di Rialto: l'arte d'Italia. There is a small repository at the back of the shop where he stores all the pieces he's to sell." She reached for a small ornamental box covered in strange, indiscernible carvings, and opened the lid. Inside was a lone bronze key, which she took out and slid towards the assassin. "It opens the door to the storehouse so you can get inside without drawing too much attention to yourself."

He stared down at the key for a few moments and made no move to pick it up. "It is one thing to think about wanting to kill someone; it is another thing to actually carry it out."

"I know," she said. "But he will not let me alone, and I cannot escape him on my own. I have tried to cut all my ties with him, but somehow he keeps finding ways to maintain his hold over me. This is the only way I will be free again."

There was so much pain clouding her eyes that he could not bear it any longer. "You will be free again, Caterina," he affirmed, plucking the key from the surface of the dressing table and slipping it into one of the pouches hanging from his belt. "I promise you that."

She took his hand in both of her own. "Thank you, Ezio."

"Come," he instructed gently, standing. "You shouldn't stay here. Not until I have dealt with Alberto."

"But where will I go?" she asked anxiously.

"La Rosa Della Virtù," he replied. "Do you know it?"

A look of puzzlement crossed her face. "The bordello in Dorsoduro? I've heard it mentioned once or twice."

Ezio smiled briefly, nodding. "You will be safe there, bella."

"I won't be made to…" She paused, raising her eyebrows in the place of words. "Will I?"

"No, no, of course not," he chuckled lightly, and held out his hand for her to help her stand. "They will simply look after you, as you deserve."

Ezio rapped on the door of the bordello, one arm draped protectively around Caterina's shoulders. The door opened and the welcoming orange glow from the sconces and candles inside filtered out into the dusky courtyard and two of Teodora's girls beckoned them inside, giggling idly. He asked after her and they tottered into the back room with their arms linked tightly together, fluttering their decorative fans at each other. A few moments later the elder beauty emerged to greet them, her dark eyes shining with kindness. When her gaze fell to Caterina her face paled as though she'd seen a ghost, and her eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Caterina?" She rushed forwards and cupped the girl's cheeks in her hands, looking at her intently, searchingly. "Are you… is it really you?"

Caterina nodded, on the verge of tears but with a small smile on her lips. "Sì."

"Oh mio dio!" Teodora exclaimed, and flung her arms around the younger woman, who embraced her tightly in return. "I thought you were dead! Where have you been all these years, piccolina?"

"Another assassin, Giovanni Auditore, saved me from Vincenzo and took me to a sanctuary in the country, not far from Toscana," she explained, her voice wavering with her emotions. "I convalesced there and remained with those who had cared for me for ten years. I returned to Venezia two years ago."

"Why didn't you try to find me?" asked Teodora, sadness clinging to her voice.

"I didn't know where to begin searching," Caterina replied sorrowfully. "I wasn't sure you'd still be here in Venezia. Forgive me."

"Of course, uccellina, I am just so happy that you're alive… after twelve years of thinking you had perished at the hands of that bastardo." She held her away from her slightly, pressed her lips to Caterina's forehead and gently brushed wisps of ebony hair from her face. It was then that she noticed the angry scarlet welt on her cheek and tilted the girl's head to one side to inspect it closely. "Who did this to you?"

"It is not important," the younger woman replied, conjuring a smile. "It is already going to be taken care of."

Teodora glanced to Ezio, who had remained respectfully silent during their exchange, and she nodded in understanding. She smiled, kissing Caterina's forehead again, "Come, I shall have my girls arrange a room for you."

Caterina turned to Ezio, whose eyes glimmered warmly in the candlelight. "Will you stay?" she asked tentatively.

She received her answer when he took her hand softly in his own.

A/N: The story behind Teodora and Caterina will be explained further in the next chapter, but I'm sure you'll all be able to figure out how they know each other, so let me know what your guesses are :P

P.S. I hope this chapter didn't suck too much; I'm a little out of practice, so forgive me.

Italian translations:

Bella - beautiful

Ponte di Rialto - Rialto Bridge

L'arte d'Italia - The art of Italy

La Rosa Della Virtù - The Rose of Virtue

Oh mio dio - oh my God/goodness

Piccolina - little one

Uccellina - little bird