Chapter 2 - THE WOMEN BRUNO INVITED
Three days later, Bruno’s candidates arrived.
There were three of them, exactly as Enzo expected.
Vivienne Caruso arrived first in a cream Bentley and stepped into the foyer wearing a suit that probably cost more than Adeline’s yearly rent. Her father controlled import terminals in Newark and had spent fifteen years pretending his relationship with the Marquetti family was purely commercial. Vivienne had an MBA, a perfect smile, and the unnerving habit of speaking about marriage as though presenting quarterly results.
“Two families with aligned interests can create stability,” she told Marisol within ten minutes of arrival.
The second woman, Sofia Bellini, came because her father insisted. She was beautiful, quiet, and so openly unhappy that Adeline felt sorry for her before they ever spoke. Sofia spent most of the afternoon reading near a window and answering questions with careful politeness.
The third, Bianca Moretti, entered Alfonso’s bedroom and immediately asked whether the curtains could be opened wider because the existing light was “unforgiving.”
Alfonso stared at her.
“The light is dying with me,” he said. “Leave it alone.”
Adeline nearly choked on a laugh.
Bianca did not notice.
Enzo had agreed to host all three women for a weekend because Bruno claimed Alfonso needed time to observe them in ordinary circumstances. Nothing about the estate was ordinary. Men with shoulder holsters ate breakfast in a side kitchen. Black sedans arrived after midnight. Conversations stopped when unfamiliar footsteps entered a corridor.
Adeline ignored all of it.
Her job was Alfonso.
She checked his lungs, measured swelling in his ankles, coordinated medication with the cardiologist, and argued with him about drinking enough water.
“You are bossier than my grandson,” Alfonso complained.
“That is because I have measurable goals.”
“What does Enzo have?”
“Apparently a compass.”
Alfonso laughed so hard she had to increase his oxygen for two minutes.
Enzo heard about that from Marisol.
He heard other things too.
His grandfather’s appetite improved slightly on Adeline’s shifts. He slept longer. He agreed to sit in a chair by the window after refusing for weeks. The nurse had somehow convinced him to allow a physical therapist into the room simply by saying, “You can hate him while he works.”
Enzo did not like being curious about employees.
Curiosity complicated hierarchy.
Still, he found himself noticing her.
Adeline never lingered near conversations about money. She never asked Marisol which paintings were originals. She never tried to arrange an accidental meeting with Enzo. When Vivienne cornered him in the library, Adeline passed the open door carrying medications and did not look inside.
Bruno looked inside constantly.
That bothered Enzo more.
On Friday evening, the estate hosted dinner for the three candidates and their families.
Adeline intended to remain upstairs, but Alfonso refused dinner unless she accompanied him to the small sitting room beside the formal dining room.
“I am not attending your bride inspection,” she said.
“It is not an inspection.”
“What is it?”
“A disaster with crystal glasses.”
She smiled despite herself.
Alfonso insisted on sitting in a wheelchair rather than remaining in bed. Adeline adjusted his blanket, checked his oxygen, and wheeled him to the sitting room where he could hear the dinner without becoming part of it.
Enzo entered midway through the first course.
His grandfather watched him through the open doors.
“So,” Adeline whispered, “which one do you like?”
Alfonso looked offended.
“I am dying, not blind.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“None.”
Adeline glanced toward the dining room.
Vivienne was discussing real estate portfolios with Bruno. Sofia stared at her untouched soup. Bianca was photographing the floral arrangement.
“They’re all beautiful.”
“Beauty is not a moral achievement.”
Adeline looked at him.
“That sounds like something you learned late.”
Alfonso’s mouth twitched.
“You are rude.”
“You like me anyway.”
“Unfortunately.”
Across the room, Enzo noticed them talking.
Noticed his grandfather’s expression.
Noticed Adeline smiling.
For reasons he did not examine, Enzo’s attention left the candidates and stayed on the nurse.
After dinner, Bruno approached him privately.
“Vivienne is the strongest choice.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Her father can stabilize the port agreements. Marriage gives you an alliance no vote can challenge.”
“My grandfather chooses.”
Bruno’s expression tightened almost invisibly.
“Of course.”
Enzo watched him walk away.
Later, near midnight, Adeline found Sofia crying quietly in the upstairs powder room.
The younger woman wiped her face quickly.
“I’m fine.”
“That sentence is usually evidence against itself.”
Sofia laughed weakly.
“My father says I should be grateful.”
“For what?”
“For being considered.”
Adeline leaned against the sink.
“Do you want to marry him?”
Sofia stared at her.
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
“You don’t understand families like mine.”
Adeline thought of Nell, of unpaid medical bills, of years spent choosing necessities over pride.
“No,” she said. “I understand being trapped by what someone else needs from you.”
Sofia’s shoulders lowered.
Unbeknownst to both women, Enzo was standing outside the half-open door.
He had not meant to listen.
But he heard Sofia say, “He would destroy my father if I refused.”
Adeline answered, “Then maybe the problem isn’t you. Maybe the problem is everyone who taught you his anger matters more than your life.”
Enzo stepped away before they saw him.
The words followed him down the corridor.
At breakfast the next morning, he announced that Sofia Bellini was free to leave with the full protection of the Marquetti house. Her father would not retaliate.
Bruno nearly dropped his coffee.
Sofia stared.
Enzo did not explain how he knew.
He simply placed the compass on the table.
Click.
Her father said nothing.
Adeline, standing near Alfonso with a blood-pressure cuff, looked at Enzo differently after that.
Not warmly.
But with attention.
It was the first time he realized her opinion might matter to him.
That irritated him for the rest of the day.
May you like
Before the evening ended, Adeline caught one more detail that stayed with her. Enzo did not once ask Alfonso which woman would strengthen the family financially. He asked whether his grandfather had eaten, whether the oxygen tubing was comfortable, and whether the room was too warm. For all his frightening reputation, he moved around the old man with the awkward care of a grandson who had never learned how to say he was afraid of losing him.
That observation complicated Adeline's judgment. She had spent years around families who became tender only when illness forced them to. Enzo's tenderness was hidden, almost embarrassed, but it was not new. When Alfonso's hand trembled reaching for water, Enzo moved the glass closer without comment. When the old man forgot where he had placed his reading glasses, Enzo found them beneath a newspaper and pretended not to notice the mistake. Power, Adeline thought, was easiest to understand when nobody important was watching. She filed that thought away beside all the reasons she still intended to say no.
