Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Wasn’t Invited
Three nights later, Alfonso asked Adeline a question that had nothing to do with medicine.
“If a rich man asked you to marry him, what would you ask first?”
Adeline was adjusting his oxygen tubing.
“Whether he had a fever.”
Alfonso stared at her.
Then his mouth twitched.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Healthy people don’t propose to strangers.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
From the doorway, Enzo watched without announcing himself.
He had returned from Manhattan shortly after midnight. His tie was loosened, his black coat still damp from rain, and the expression on his face suggested the city had spent the evening disappointing him.
Adeline noticed him only when she turned.
Their eyes met.
She knew immediately who he was.
Not because anyone had told her.
Because the house changed when Enzo entered it.
People stood straighter.
Voices became quieter.
Even Marisol seemed to measure her words.
“You’re Mr. Marquetti,” Adeline said.
“Enzo.”
She nodded once.
“Your grandfather’s blood pressure dropped earlier. It stabilized after we adjusted his medication, but his cardiologist needs to review the numbers tomorrow.”
No fear.
No attempt to impress him.
No nervous smile.
Just facts.
Enzo glanced at Alfonso.
“You frightened everyone again?”
“I was bored.”
“You could try television.”
“I’d rather die.”
“You’re already doing that.”
Adeline’s head snapped toward Enzo.
Alfonso laughed so hard that his monitor changed rhythm.
“Please don’t encourage him,” she said.
Enzo looked at her.
For the first time in several days, he almost smiled.
The following afternoon, three black cars arrived.
From the first stepped Cassandra Bellini, daughter of a Manhattan developer whose family had known the Marquettis for decades.
From the second came Bianca Rossetti, twenty-nine, elegant, educated in Switzerland, and accompanied by her father.
The third carried Vivienne Moreau, a socialite whose first question to Marisol was whether the west terrace received better sunset light than the east terrace.
Bruno had selected well.
At least on paper.
All three women had money.
All three came from families powerful enough to strengthen Enzo politically.
All three understood exactly what marriage to Enzo represented.
Adeline understood none of it.
She arrived through the service entrance carrying a canvas nursing bag and a sandwich wrapped in foil.
Marisol intercepted her.
“You may want to use the back staircase tonight.”
“Why?”
“Potential brides.”
Adeline blinked.
“For Mr. Marquetti?”
Marisol nodded.
Adeline considered this.
“Good for him.”
Marisol stared at her.
“That’s all?”
“What am I supposed to say?”
Most women, Marisol thought, would have asked questions.
Adeline asked whether Alfonso had eaten.
Upstairs, Alfonso had refused lunch.
He had also refused to meet the women.
“You invited them,” Enzo reminded him.
“I agreed to look.”
“They’ve been downstairs for forty minutes.”
“Then they’ve had forty minutes to demonstrate patience.”
Enzo folded his arms.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
Eventually Alfonso permitted the candidates upstairs one at a time.
Cassandra entered first.
She spoke beautifully about family legacy.
Then she described marriage as “the ultimate strategic merger.”
Alfonso thanked her.
Bianca came next.
She was kinder.
But when Alfonso asked whether she wanted to marry Enzo, her eyes filled unexpectedly.
“My father believes it would be good for our family.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
Bianca lowered her gaze.
“No.”
Alfonso dismissed her gently.
Vivienne entered while checking her phone.
She asked whether renovations would be permitted after marriage.
Alfonso asked which renovations.
“The light in this room is terrible.”
Outside the door, Adeline nearly collided with her.
Vivienne looked at the blue scrubs.
Then at Adeline’s inexpensive shoes.
“You work here?”
“I’m Mr. Marquetti’s nurse.”
Vivienne handed her an empty champagne glass.
“Take this.”
Adeline looked at it.
Then at her.
“I’m a nurse.”
Vivienne waited.
“So?”
“So unless that glass develops chest pain, it isn’t my patient.”
Enzo heard it.
He turned away before anyone saw the smile.
Vivienne did not.
Her expression hardened.
Later, Alfonso became short of breath.
The gathering downstairs continued while Adeline closed his bedroom door and worked.
His oxygen saturation fell.
She called the physician.
Enzo entered midway through the episode.
Adeline did not look at him.
“Out.”
Enzo stopped.
Marisol stopped.
Two guards outside stopped breathing.
“What?”
“I need space. Out.”
No one spoke to Enzo Marquetti that way.
Alfonso managed a weak sound that might have been laughter.
Enzo stepped outside.
Twenty minutes later, Adeline opened the door.
“He’s stable.”
Enzo looked past her toward his grandfather.
“Thank you.”
“I’m doing my job.”
“Apparently that includes ordering me out of my own rooms.”
“You were blocking the equipment.”
Something about her refusal to be impressed unsettled him.
Or interested him.
He could not decide which.
That night, after the candidates had gone to guest suites, Alfonso asked for Enzo.
Bruno joined them.
So did Marisol.
Adeline stood near the medication cart, documenting the episode.
Alfonso looked at his grandson.
“I’ve chosen.”
Bruno visibly relaxed.
“Excellent.”
“Bring everyone downstairs tomorrow at seven.”
“Which young lady?” Bruno asked.
Alfonso looked toward Adeline.
She did not notice.
She was counting tablets.
“Tomorrow.”
The following evening, the drawing room was full.
Council members.
Family allies.
The three candidates.
Enzo stood beside the fireplace.
Adeline had been asked to remain because Alfonso’s condition was unstable.
She stood near his wheelchair in clean blue scrubs, feeling absurdly underdressed among diamonds and tailored suits.
Alfonso lifted one hand.
“I was asked to choose the woman who should become Enzo’s wife.”
Cassandra straightened.
Vivienne smiled.
Bianca looked miserable.
Alfonso continued.
“I have.”
He pointed.
Not toward the three women.
Toward the nurse.
Every face turned.
Adeline froze.
Bruno’s champagne glass stopped halfway to his mouth.
Enzo did not move at all.
Alfonso’s finger remained pointed directly at Adeline Whitaker.
“Her.”
Adeline stared at him.
“Absolutely not.”
A shocked murmur swept through the room.
Alfonso smiled.
Enzo’s eyes narrowed.
Adeline stepped closer to the old man.
“You need your medication.”
“I need a granddaughter-in-law.”
“You’re getting delirious.”
“I’ve never been clearer.”
Bruno recovered first.
“This is impossible.”
Alfonso turned his head.
“I wasn’t aware I asked you.”
“She has no family name. No connections. She’s an employee.”
Adeline’s face changed.
Enzo saw it.
Not shame.
Anger.
She reached for her nursing bag.
“I think my shift is finished.”
Enzo moved.
“Wait.”
She looked at him.
The entire room fell silent.
“You don’t have to marry me,” he said.
“Wonderful.”
“But my grandfather has made his choice.”
“That sounds like a problem between you and your grandfather.”
Then Alfonso spoke.
“There is something you both need to know.”
His smile disappeared.
He looked directly at Bruno.
“I didn’t choose Adeline because she is kind.”
Bruno went pale.
Alfonso continued.
May you like
“I chose her because last night, someone tried to kill me.”
And the room went completely still.
