Chapter 6 - The Woman Who Wouldn’t Belong to Him
Three months later, Amelia entered Enzo’s Manhattan office without knocking.
Tommaso watched her pass.
“You know everyone else schedules meetings.”
“Everyone else is afraid of him.”
“Fair.”
She opened Enzo’s door.
“You fired Patterson.”
Enzo looked up.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“He lied on his background disclosure.”
“He forgot to disclose a misdemeanor from twenty years ago.”
“That qualifies as lying.”
“He was nineteen.”
Enzo leaned back.
“You’re defending him?”
“I’m correcting you.”
“You enjoy this job too much.”
“I enjoy preventing you from making expensive mistakes.”
He pushed a file toward her.
“Fine. Review it.”
“I already did.”
“Of course you did.”
Amelia had accepted the position under five conditions.
Independent authority.
Her own staff.
No surveillance of her private life.
No decisions made on her behalf.
And the right to tell Enzo Marciano when he was wrong.
She used the fifth condition frequently.
But their arguments had changed.
So had the silences between them.
One evening, after everyone else had gone, Enzo found Amelia staring through the windows.
“You should go home.”
“So should you.”
“This is my building.”
“That doesn’t make insomnia productive.”
He stood beside her.
“Tomorrow is eight years.”
Amelia looked at him.
He remembered.
“My father.”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“I’m going to the cemetery.”
“Would you like me to come?”
Not I’m coming.
Not I’ll send someone.
Would you like me to come?
Amelia looked at him for several seconds.
“Yes.”
The following morning, Enzo waited by the cemetery gates without his usual entourage.
Tommaso remained with the car.
Amelia placed flowers beside her father’s grave.
“I found the truth, Dad.”
Enzo remained several steps away.
She glanced back.
“You can come closer.”
He approached.
“My father tried to help yours,” Enzo said.
“Apparently our fathers trusted each other more than we knew.”
“Maybe they had better judgment than their sons and daughters.”
Amelia looked at him.
“I have excellent judgment.”
“You got into a mafia boss’s SUV.”
“After negotiating terms.”
“That improves it?”
“Significantly.”
He laughed.
It was the first time she had heard him laugh without restraint.
Later, beside the car, Enzo stopped her.
“Amelia.”
“What?”
“There’s something I want to ask.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“That sounds dangerous.”
“Dinner.”
“We’ve had dinner.”
“Not while discussing security reports.”
“Oh.”
“And not because you work for me.”
Her expression became serious.
“That part matters.”
“I know.”
“You’re not asking because you feel responsible for what happened.”
“No.”
“Or because I saved your life.”
“No.”
“Or because you think protecting me means—”
“Amelia.”
“What?”
“You’re doing that thing.”
“What thing?”
“Interrogating someone before allowing him to finish one sentence.”
She folded her arms.
“Finish.”
Enzo looked directly at her.
“I’m asking because somewhere between you ordering me away from an elevator and correcting every decision I make, I started looking forward to seeing you walk through my door.”
Amelia said nothing.
Enzo waited.
No pressure.
No command.
Finally she smiled.
“Dinner.”
“That’s a yes?”
“It’s dinner.”
“Understood.”
She walked toward the car.
Then turned.
“And Enzo?”
“Yes?”
“You’re paying.”
He almost smiled.
May you like
“That was always the plan.”
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