Forty-six #2
“The market usually lags reality.”
His eyes don’t leave mine. “That confidence gets men into trouble.”
“It also gets buildings named after them.”
Chiara lowers her glass slowly beside me. “Please don’t encourage each other.”
Neither of us answer her.
Enzo lets the silence sit for a few seconds before looking toward his daughter. “There’s another matter we should discuss.”
Chiara sets her glass down before Enzo can continue. “I’m not marrying Palo.”
No anger or hesitation. Just the decision laid flat between us.
Enzo leans back slightly in his chair, one hand resting against the arm while he studies her across the room. The expression on his face doesn’t change much, but his attention sharpens in a way I recognize immediately.
“I assumed we would eventually reach that conversation,” he says calmly.
“Good.” Chiara folds one leg beneath the other and rests her hands lightly in her lap. “Then this shouldn’t take long.”
The corner of Enzo’s mouth moves faintly before disappearing again. “You embarrassed our family publicly.”
Chiara sits forward. “You announced my engagement publicly.”
He shrugs. “That arrangement stabilized several problems simultaneously.”
Enzo reaches for his glass and turns it once slowly against the table before taking a drink. “You were not involved in those negotiations.”
“That was part of the problem.”
His gaze flicks toward me briefly before returning to her. “You think this was only about the marriage?”
“I think you used me as leverage. They needed our family’s help with the O’Malleys, and you wanted a Bullucci in the room with Gamblés.”
Enzo sets the glass back down beside his chair with deliberate care. “I knew all that education I paid for would one day pay off.” He folds one hand loosely over the other. “You’re right. They needed the alliance, and I want all their business.”
Chiara leans back against the sofa cushion beside me. “You have legitimate business interests already established. You can move further in that direction.”
Enzo’s expression flattens slightly. “You think legitimate business protects people from pressure?”
“I think it gives you alternatives.”
“All it does is give the government cleaner paperwork.”
Chiara’s jaw tightens briefly before smoothing again. “You still chose this.”
“Yes.” Enzo looks toward the windows for a second before continuing. “The Gamblé alliance was negotiated because your mother left.” His attention comes back to Chiara. “Weakness invites pressure. Pressure invites opportunists.”
“And my marriage was supposed to fix that? I saw what you negotiated in the prenuptial agreement. You were selling me off, and I wasn’t worth much.”
“Palo represented an opportunity, and you always had my support.”
Chiara lets out a quiet breath through her nose. “Women around Palo have a habit of disappearing once he’s finished with them.”
Enzo says nothing to that immediately. He looks at Chiara in silence long enough that I can almost see him recalculating her in real time.
“The arrangement with Palo is finished,” he says evenly. “The Gamblés have been compensated for the disruption. Other agreements were made.”
Chiara holds his gaze. “So that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“No retaliation?”
“If there was going to be retaliation,” Enzo says calmly, “you would’ve already seen it.”
The room goes still again after that.
Chiara nods once, slow and measured, before reaching for her glass.
“And my mother?”
“Her brother doesn’t know she’s alive, and we’re not going to tell him.”
“You don’t think he already knows.”
“I know he doesn’t because he wouldn’t have agreed to the deal we offered him.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
Enzo inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment before turning his attention toward me. “And what are your intentions toward my daughter?”
A few months ago, I would’ve answered that question differently. Certain. Controlled. Like the decision already belonged to me.
Now, I look at Chiara first.
“I intend to marry her someday,” I say, resting my forearms against my knees. “But if I asked her now, she’d refuse me.”
One of Chiara’s brows lifts. “You sound very confident about that.”
Enzo leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “And you’re comfortable with that answer?”
“No,” I say honestly. “But she’d be right to refuse me now.”
Chiara lowers her eyes briefly toward the glass in her hands, the corner of her mouth shifting faintly.
Enzo studies me another second. “And waiting changes the outcome?”
“I think forcing timing usually destroys it.”
Enzo knocks twice against the side table and stands. “I expect to be invited.”
“I’ll keep you posted,” Chiara says.
We stand to leave when Enzo looks at me again.
“I met your father once.”
I stop. “When?”
“We were young. There was a meeting of families.”
The room seems to narrow slightly around the words.
“You knew him well enough to remember that?”
Enzo’s mouth turns at one corner. “Men remember other men who walk into dangerous rooms without looking impressed by them.”
Chiara looks up at me immediately, catching the shift in my expression before I can hide it.
Enzo inclines his head once. “Goodnight, Chiara.” Then he turns to me. “Marino.”