Chapter 16
Lorenzo did not date anyone for another year.
Not because no one approached him.
People did.
Friends introduced women.
Relatives suggested daughters of people he trusted.
One uncle sent him photographs as if selecting a future wife required the same process as reviewing property.
Lorenzo returned the envelope unopened.
His life became predictable.
Mia went to school.
Nora worked Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Samuel managed the estate.
Rachel appeared whenever someone tried to pretend a family request counted as written authorization.
The house became quieter.
Lorenzo began to believe quiet was the same as safety.
Nora disagreed.
“You’re hiding.”
“I’m working.”
“You’ve always worked.”
“I have a daughter.”
“You had one when you were engaged to Camille.”
That ended the conversation for several minutes.
Nora’s retirement was now less than a year away.
She did not mention it often because Mia still behaved as if the plan might disappear if nobody said the word retirement aloud.
Then the Bellini foundation began renovating an old public library.
The project had nothing to do with the estate.
That was why Lorenzo attended personally.
The design consultant was Claire Bennett.
Thirty-nine.
Divorced.
Architect.
No connection to any Bellini business.
No family history with Lorenzo.
No reason to flatter him.
During the first planning meeting, Lorenzo rejected a proposed glass staircase because maintenance costs were absurd.
Claire looked at him.
“You’re wrong.”
The room became quiet.
One Bellini executive actually stopped writing.
Lorenzo looked around.
“Why did everyone stop?”
Nobody answered.
Claire did.
“They’re waiting to see whether disagreeing with you is allowed.”
Lorenzo stared at her.
Then at the room.
He hated that she was right.
“Continue.”
Claire showed him the structural report.
The staircase cost more initially but required less maintenance over twenty years because the alternative stone design needed reinforcement.
Lorenzo read every page.
“You’re right.”
“I know.”
That irritated him.
He liked her immediately.
Which was exactly why he avoided her for the next month.
Rachel noticed.
“You asked me to review three library contracts that did not require legal review.”
“I prefer precision.”
“You prefer excuses.”
Nora was worse.
“She’s pretty.”
“You met her once.”
“I have eyes.”
“I am not discussing this with you.”
“You discuss homicide risk with me.”
“This is more private.”
Eventually Claire asked him directly.
“Are you interested in dinner, or are you going to keep appearing at construction meetings you do not need to attend?”
Lorenzo stared.
“You ask men out like that?”
“Only men wasting municipal planning time.”
He laughed.
Then became serious.
“I have a daughter.”
Claire’s expression did not change.
“I assumed the seven-year-old in your family photographs wasn’t an executive.”
“She comes first.”
“That sentence worries me.”
Lorenzo stiffened.
“Why?”
“Because adults say children come first when they mean the child will eventually be responsible for whether the adult relationship works.”
“She will not.”
“Good.”
Claire picked up her folder.
“Then dinner.”
They went to a restaurant forty minutes from the estate.
No bodyguards inside.
One security vehicle remained outside because Lorenzo was still Lorenzo Bellini.
Claire noticed.
She did not comment until dessert.
“Does Mia live like this?”
“Like what?”
“Always protected.”
“Yes.”
“Does she like it?”
Lorenzo almost answered automatically.
Then stopped.
“I don’t know.”
Claire smiled slightly.
“That is probably something worth knowing.”
He returned home after ten.
Mia was sitting on the stairs in pajamas.
“You went dinner.”
“Yes.”
“With lady.”
Lorenzo looked toward Nora.
Nora raised both hands.
“I told her nothing.”
Mia continued.
“Is she girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Will she be?”
“I don’t know.”
Mia frowned.
“Does she have chain?”
Lorenzo felt the question inside his chest.
“No.”
“Aprons?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
He sat on the stair below her.
“No.”
Mia looked surprised.
“You said no.”
“I mean I know she does not have a chain. I don’t know everything about her yet.”
“Then why dinner?”
“Because dinner is how people learn.”
Mia considered that.
Then asked:
“Does she know about Camille?”
“Some.”
“Does she know about me?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That you are my daughter.”
“That’s all?”
“For now.”
Mia nodded.
Then stood.
“Okay.”
Halfway upstairs, she turned.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“If she mean, you leave?”
Lorenzo answered carefully.
“If anyone is unsafe around you, I will act.”
“That not what I asked.”
Seven had made her more precise.
“If she is mean once?”
Lorenzo understood.
Camille had taught Mia that one bad moment could hide a larger system.
Therapy had taught her that not every mistake meant danger.
“I would find out what happened.”
Mia looked dissatisfied.
Good, Lorenzo thought.
Safety was not always a simple promise.
“Then?” she asked.
“Then I decide based on what she did next too.”
Mia thought.
“Okay.”
It was not approval.
Lorenzo did not need it.
But for the first time in years, the possibility of another woman entering his life no longer felt like a door he had to keep permanently locked.
May you like
It felt like something harder.
A door he would have to learn how to open without giving away the keys.
