Chapter 13
ENZO
I have a meeting with Luca Valizar.
I arrived in Chicago early this morning and checked into my hotel. I’ve had many business meetings here but today I feel a sense of apprehension, or maybe it’s anticipation? This man intrigues me. I’m curious as to why he reached out now, instead of when I was in Venice.
I have no idea what he looks like. The few articles that have been published about him never reveal who he is.
But Molly has seen him.
I didn’t even get around to asking her about that.
As much as I try to push all thought of her away, it hasn’t been easy.
Luckily, meeting Valizar is a good distraction.
But as I drive to the address I was given, I’m sure there’s been a mistake.
I park on the street, but this isn’t a corporate office.
It can’t even be classified as a building.
What I’m staring at are the ruins of an old mansion.
I get out of the car and stare at the scaffolding. There's debris everywhere, walls knocked through, some half-stripped. I notice a few enormous stained-glass windows that surprisingly manage to stay up on one complete wall.
Workmen are everywhere. This place is a shambles. Who in their right mind would have a meeting here? Convinced I have the wrong address, I check the email again.
To my surprise This is the correct place.
I walk up to the building. Noise comes from every direction—drilling, hammering, men calling to one another.
In the far distance, through a crumbling wall, I see a tall man in a dark suit. I have a feeling it’s Luca Valizar.
Smoothing down my tie, I walk towards him, away from the drilling and noise. He has his back to me, and he appears to be talking to someone in a hard hat. I don't know what he expects us to talk about in the middle of all this commotion.
I approach them, and stand aside, careful not to interrupt. Luca holds something in his hand. It looks like a ceramic tile. He turns it and examines it. I take a few steps closer to get a better look. Neither of the men have noticed that I'm here.
“The replacement would be indistinguishable—” the man in the hard hat says.
“No.”
“But, Mr. Valizar, it will cost three times as much and people won’t notice.”
“I didn't ask what it would cost. I want the originals preserved.” Luca’s voice is deep and rich, carrying easily above the noise.
“Yes, sir.” The man takes the tile and leaves.
I'm about to step forward and introduce myself when Luca turns around.
“Mr. Knight.” He doesn’t hold out his hand for me to shake, and for a moment I don’t know how to react. It's rare for me to be thrown off guard by somebody, but I am by this man.
“Mr. Valizar.” I don’t give him my hand to shake either.
It's then that I see that he has a scar. He makes no attempt to hide it. He's younger than I expected. Given the mystery surrounding him, and the awe with which people speak his name, I always expected him to be older, more like Father. But this man looks like he's in his early thirties, maybe.
His hair is dark and short, and he’s dressed impeccably in a dark suit. His face would have been almost too perfect were it not for the scar that cuts across one side of it.
“You found me.”
That’s a nod to his secrecy. To the way he keeps himself out of the public eye.
I gesture around me. “Strange place to have a meeting, especially given that we were both in Venice a few days ago.”
“Why did you keep the clock?”
The clock?
It takes a few seconds, but I know what he’s talking about. The abandoned depot Knight Enterprises acquired. The very first solo project I worked on.
A large four-faced station clock had once hung above the original central concourse.
It had survived. It had been hidden and forgotten, but that didn't make it worthless.
When we uncovered it, above a false ceiling, it was filthy and corroded.
It hadn't worked in years. The project manager wanted it removed.
Restoring it would cost more than replacing it.
I wanted to keep it.
“Because it belonged there.”
I’m struck by his question. I’m the one who usually watches others. How they talk, and stand, the words they speak, but Luca seems to be as observant as I am. I sense that he’s been studying me.
“The project is yours, if you want it.”
“What project?”
“Something similar to the old, abandoned depot you restored.”
He’s offering me a project, just like that? Based on what? A clock? This can’t be real. I’m convinced there’s been a misunderstanding.
Though, if he’s being serious, I likely won’t turn down whatever it is, as long as it’s legal. The chance to work on something for Luca Valizar is an opportunity not to be turned down, but I’m flying completely blind.
Everything about this is strange.
This man has given me barely no information. We’re having a meeting standing up without a desk, without contracts, without paper, in the middle of ruins.
I look around me. “You want to discuss this here, now?”
He looks at his watch. “I need to be somewhere in five. There’s no obligation, Mr. Knight. I’ve visited the depot you restored, many times.”
“Was that why you invited me to the ball in Venice?”
“I wanted to get an impression of you.”
“But I was wearing a mask.”
“I saw.”
He saw.
I try hard not to look at the scar, but it’s impossible to do while talking to him. And when did he see me?
Was it with Molly?
When we were in the lobby?
Or outside when we were dancing?
Never have I ever felt so flat-footed. I slide my hands into my pockets, and fist them, trying to keep my calm.
“I already own the land. I’ll fund the entire project. Consultants, project managers, architects—whatever you need. Use my people or bring in your own.”
His gaze moves briefly to the ruins surrounding us.
“There is no commercial brief. I’m not asking for apartments, offices or a return on every square foot. What I want is for you to tell me what this place should become.”
“You’re giving me complete control?”
“Within reason.” His mouth twitches. “It is still my money.”
A laugh escapes me, because this sounds like a joke and I’m waiting for the punchline.
“But yes. The vision will be yours.”
“Why me?” This takes some getting used to. This man has made an important decision, a huge decision, based on what? Feeling? Gut?
A clock?
“Because I can hire architects,” Luca says. “I can hire developers. I can hire people to tell me what will make the most money.” He pauses. “I'm not hiring you for any of those things.” His gaze shifts back to the ruins. “You have an eye for beautiful things, Mr. Knight.”
This is a surreal moment. I didn’t get to meet this man in Venice, and now he’s sought me out and is offering me complete autonomy on a project I barely know much about.
“I'll have Penelope email you some information.”
“Penelope?”
“My right-hand woman. I’d advise you to go and see the site for yourself.”
“This isn’t the site?” I am dumbfounded.
“It’s this.” He pulls out a card. It’s not a scribbled piece of paper. It’s an immaculate little cream-colored card.
He’s offered me a project which I know nothing about. Either he has too much money, or he believes in me completely.
“Walk the site. Take your time. Then tell me what you think it should become.”
“But you haven't told me what you want.”
“I have ideas, but I’m curious to learn about yours.”
I walk away dazed from the meeting. I didn't even have breakfast so I drive away, find a local café and get some food.
I’ve barely touched my scrambled eggs when a bunch of girls at a nearby table start squealing over something.
“People say he's Enzo Knight,” one of them says.
Hearing complete strangers discussing me makes my stomach churn. I’ve lost my appetite, so I pay the bill and get the hell out of there.
Father calls me as I get back into my car.
“You haven't returned my calls.”
“I've been busy.”
“So I've seen.”
He sounds most displeased.
“How are you feeling—”
“You're avoiding me.”
I was going to ask him how he is. Post-surgery, he hasn’t looked as well as we thought he would, but he’s clearly not interested in niceties. He gets straight to the point and I don't even try to defend myself.
“Come and see me when you're free.”
“I will.”
I look at the cream-colored card that Luca gave me, and decide to go and check it out.
***
I park alongside the kerb.
This has to be it. The street ends fifty yards ahead, the immaculate houses giving way to a tall iron fence half-hidden behind trees and vegetation.
I get out of my car and walk towards it. The place is huge. Beyond the railings, acres of neglected land stretch out. Trees and shrubs have been left to grow wild, swallowing what look like the remains of old pathways. In the middle of it all stands a long glass pavilion.
Or what's left of one.
Half the panes are missing. Others are cracked or opaque with dirt. Rust streaks the metal framework and vegetation crawls up sections of the structure.
What was this?
I pull out my phone and look it up online.
That’s when I discover that it was built in the 1920s as a horticultural exhibition pavilion and public gardens.
It closed decades ago. Since then there have been proposals, objections, preservation campaigns and more than one developer trying to get their hands on the land.
None of them got anywhere.
Until recently.
I scroll farther.
The site was acquired by a private company.
Valizar Holdings.
I look through the railings again. Now I understand why Luca brought up the depot. He doesn't want me to build something here. He wants me to work out what deserves to stay.
I’m locked out. There’s nothing I can do. There’s no way I can inspect this site further, but one thing’s for sure. There’s so much space here. So much potential for what it could be.
I decide to come back another time, when I can explore this properly. I flew in this morning, booked to stay overnight because I didn't know how long I would need to be here.
Rio and Dex are still sending me links to the videos. One is still going viral, but I don't waste too much energy on that.
I have other things on my mind.