Chapter 21 Maddie
The next morning, Antonio drives Enzo and me to pick up my friends for the promised trip to Taormina. I spent the night tossing and turning, and barely slept thinking about Sarah's probing questions and skeptical looks.
"If your friends want to see our village today," Enzo says as we navigate the winding mountain roads. "Make them understand it’s not happening."
"They came here specifically to see where I live, Enzo. That’s the whole point."
"They came here to see you,” he says. “Where you live is irrelevant."
"How am I supposed to explain that I can't show them my own house? Buying a house for one euro is a big deal. They’re not leaving until they see it."
"Tell them it’s under construction with unsafe conditions. Use your imagination."
The casual dismissal irritates me. "You mean lie to my best friends who came all this way to see me."
"I mean protect information that could be dangerous in the wrong hands."
"Sarah and Jessica aren't dangerous! For fuck’s sake, Enzo!"
"Your friend Sarah ran searches on me seventeen times last night. She's also been texting someone back in Seattle asking them to check other databases for my name."
I turn to stare at him. "How could you possibly know that?"
"How do you think?"
The implication sits heavy between us. He's monitoring their phones. Of course he is.
"That's invasion of privacy and very rude."
"It’s common security protocol for visitors here."
We pull into the hotel parking lot just as Sarah and Jessica emerge from the lobby. Jessica waves enthusiastically while Sarah studies Enzo's car. Not the same one he drove yesterday, probably deliberate on his part.
"Maddie!" Jessica hurries over for a hug. "The restaurant last night was incredible! The concierge said they're usually booked months in advance."
Sarah’s eyes are sharp despite the early hour. "Good morning, Enzo. Thank you again for dinner."
"My pleasure,” he says. “I trust you slept well?"
"The suite is beautiful." She pauses. "It’s very generous for you to arrange such expensive accommodations."
"Madison's friends deserve the best. It is truly my pleasure to host your stay.”
"Speaking of Madison, we'd love to see her house today,” Sarah says. “And the village she's been posting all those gorgeous photos of."
"Unfortunately, her house is under major renovation construction today," Enzo says smoothly. "Electrical work. It’s not safe for visitors due to code violations."
"All day?"
"Italian contractors work on their own schedule. Usually very slowly."
"How inconvenient." Sarah's tone suggests she doesn't buy it. "What about the village itself? Surely, we can see it? Unless it’s under construction as well?"
"Tomorrow would be better."
"That's disappointing," Sarah says. "We came all this way to see Maddie's new life."
"And you will," Enzo assures her. "But today, I thought you might enjoy a drive to a beautiful medieval village, stunning views, excellent shopping."
"Shopping?" Jessica perks up immediately.
"The ceramics are particularly famous. And there's a lovely café in the main square that serves the best granita in Sicily."
He's good at this, redirecting Jessica's enthusiasm while appearing helpful. But Sarah isn't so easily distracted.
"Will you be joining us on the drive?" she asks him.
"Unfortunately, I have business to attend to. But Antonio will drive you." He gestures to where Antonio waits by a black sedan. "He knows all the best places and he’s very knowledgeable about the area. The roads are treacherous. Very narrow, many switchbacks. Antonio is familiar with them."
Antonio steps forward with a professional smile. "Ladies, whenever you're ready. Are you interested in history? There are many spots I can show you."
"Oh, I love ruins!" Jessica says, already heading toward the car.
Sarah hesitates, looking between me and Enzo. "Maddie, are you coming?"
"Of course," I say quickly.
"Actually," Enzo interrupts, "Madison has an important appointment with the contractor this morning. To sign papers about the electrical work."
I do? This is news to me, but I try to keep my expression neutral.
"I could reschedule—" I start.
"Impossible. You know how difficult it was to get Franco to commit to today."
The look he gives me makes it clear I need to play along.
"Right. Franco is a very busy man." I turn to my friends apologetically. "I'm sorry, guys. But I'll meet you for lunch, okay? Go ahead and enjoy your drive. Antonio knows a place with amazing arancini."
Sarah's expression says she's cataloging every suspicious element of this conversation, but Jessica is already taking photos of the hotel's flower gardens.
"Fine," Sarah says finally. "Lunch. But tomorrow, we want to see your actual life here. No more scheduling conflicts."
"Tomorrow," I agree, knowing Enzo will have some other excuse by then.
After they leave with Antonio, Enzo guides me to his car with a hand on my lower back, possessive even when no one's watching.
"There's no contractor appointment," I say once we're driving.
"There is now. Franco needs to make your house look actively under construction. The least amount of time your friends spend in the village, the better for everyone."
"Why?" I ask.
"Because your friend Sarah is too observant for her own good."
"She's just being protective of me,” I explain. “You’re overreacting."
"She's suspicious of me. Those are different things."
"Can you blame her? You're controlling where they go, who drives them, what they see while they’re on vacation."
"I'm managing risk."
"You're treating them like threats,” I say.
"Everyone's a threat until proven otherwise."
"That's no way to live, Enzo."
"It's the only way to stay alive in my position."
His comment stops me cold. We drive in silence for a few minutes before I ask, "What position is that, exactly?"
"The kind that requires this level of security."
Another non-answer from him.
He pulls up at the villa instead of my house.
"I thought we were meeting Franco?"
"We are. Here. There’s a chance your house is being watched."
"By who?"
"Your friend Sarah called around and tried to hire a local taxi to take her to your house this morning."
My stomach drops. "When was this?"
"At six AM. Before you were awake. None of the taxi drivers were willing to take her."
"How do you know this? Oh, right. You're monitoring every fucking thing."
"Yes, everything that matters."
Inside the villa, Franco is waiting in Enzo's study with blueprints and electrical diagrams spread across the desk. The conversation flows in rapid Italian with occasional gestures at the papers. I catch my name several times but understand nothing else.
Finally, Enzo turns to me. "Franco will stage visible construction at your house. Scaffolding, warning signs, construction debris. It will look actively dangerous."
"For how long?"
"As long as necessary."
"My friends leave in four days."
"Then four days."
Franco says something in Italian that makes Enzo's expression harden.
"What did he say?" I ask.
"He asked if more permanent solutions might be simpler."
The blood drains from my face. "Permanent solutions?"
"He's joking," Enzo says, but his tone suggests otherwise. "Franco has an unfortunate sense of humor."
Franco shrugs, gathering his papers. He says something else in Italian before leaving.
"What now?"
"Now you meet your friends for lunch. Be normal. Be happy. Talk about anything except my business."
"I don't know anything about your business."
"Better to keep it that way."
My phone buzzes with a text from Sarah: "This driver won't take us anywhere that's not on his pre-approved list. What the hell, Maddie? What is he afraid of us seeing?"
"I need to go," I say.
Another text from Sarah: "We're basically being given a curated tour. This is weird. Have we been kidnapped? Should we expect to be driven to his friend’s shop and held there until we buy out the place?"
"They're getting frustrated with Antonio’s tour," I tell Enzo. “Sarah’s too smart for this. She's going to figure out something is off."
He pulls me closer and kisses me then, slow and thorough, like he's trying to remind me why I'm going along with all of this. When he pulls back, I'm breathless and conflicted and no closer to understanding how I got into this situation.
"Go," he says. "Have lunch. Be the happy friend they came to see."
I drive myself to meet them at a café overlooking the sea. Jessica is taking photos of everything while Sarah sits with her arms crossed, clearly annoyed.
"Finally, you’re here," Sarah says when she sees me. "Your boyfriend's driver is very restrictive about where we can go and what we can see."
"He's just being cautious. The roads here are dangerous."
"Bullshit." Sarah leans forward. "What's really going on, Maddie?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean your boyfriend controls everything. Where we stay, where we go, who drives us. This morning, I tried to hire a taxi to see your village and suddenly no one was available. That's not normal."
"You went to the village?"
"I tried to. Every taxi was mysteriously booked."
Because Enzo controls them all, I realize. The entire local transportation network answers to him.
"Sarah, you're being paranoid."
"Am I? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you're involved with someone who has an unhealthy level of control over your life."
If only she knew how right she was. And how much worse it actually is.
"It's not like that," I say weakly.
"Then what is it like?"
"He's just... protective."
"That's one way to describe it."
"Can we just have a nice lunch?" Jessica interrupts. "We're in freaking Sicily with our best friend. Let's enjoy it. You’re both so serious today. Come on, lighten up!"
Sarah backs down, but I can see her watching me throughout the meal. Cataloging my nervous gestures, the way I check my phone, how I deflect questions about Enzo and the village.
After lunch, Antonio appears to drive us to the Greek Theater. The ancient amphitheater is stunning, carved into the hillside with Mount Etna smoking in the distance. Jessica goes wild with photos while Sarah pulls me aside.
"I looked Enzo up," she says quietly.
My heart stops. "And?"
"Very successful. Multiple businesses. Shipping, real estate, hospitality. All very legitimate on paper."
"Because it is legitimate. For Christ’s sake, Sarah!"
"On paper," she repeats. "But there are gaps. And I have questions. Like why someone with that much money and power is interested in a sweet American girl who bought a falling-down house for one euro in a crazy lottery."
"Maybe he likes me,” I say. “I’m a fun, likeable girl, believe it or not.”
"Maybe. Or maybe you're useful to him somehow."
If she only knew. I'm useful because I owe him money, because I provide cover for whatever he really does, because I'm naive enough to fall for him despite all the red flags.
"Sarah, please. Just leave it alone. Let’s have some fun! I haven’t seen you two in a long time and I’m happy you’re here."
She studies my face. "Are you in trouble?"
Yes.
"No."
"Are you sure? Because if you need help, we can get you out of here right now. Today. Fuck that old house!"
"I don't need help,” I say. “But I need you to trust me."
"I do. It's him I don't trust."
My phone buzzes. Enzo: "Dinner with everyone at the villa tonight. Eight o'clock."
"We're having dinner at Enzo's tonight," I tell them.
"At his house?" Jessica asks excitedly. "Oh my God, I bet it's gorgeous. I’m so excited!"
"Eight o'clock," I say. "Antonio will pick you up."
Sarah's eyes narrow at me. "You’re starting to sound like him."
She's right.
I'm starting to sound like him, think like him. Accepting control as normal, surveillance as necessary, lies as protection.
What the hell am I becoming?
Antonio drives us back to the hotel, where I leave them to rest before dinner. But I know Sarah won't rest. She'll research, make calls, dig deeper into the carefully constructed facade Enzo has built.
And eventually, she'll find something that doesn't fit.