Chapter 6 - The Woman in White
Eleanor Bellini did not deny knowing the truth.
She asked for a chair.
Then she told Enzo the story his family had buried for fourteen years.
Antonio Marquetti had been trying to dismantle the family’s most violent operations.
Margaret supported him.
Bruno did not.
Neither did several older council members.
But Bruno had not ordered the hospital shooting.
A rival family had.
Bruno had simply known it was coming.
And allowed it.
Because Margaret’s death would break Antonio.
It did.
Months later Antonio discovered Bruno’s betrayal.
Before he could expose him, his car went through a guardrail.
Everyone called it suicide.
It wasn’t.
Bruno had arranged the crash.
Enzo stared at the man he had called uncle since childhood.
Bruno’s expression contained no remorse.
“Your father was destroying everything Alfonso built.”
“My father was changing it.”
“He was making us weak.”
Enzo slowly removed the compass.
Bruno laughed.
“That little trick doesn’t frighten me anymore.”
Enzo set it down.
Click.
“It wasn’t meant to.”
Police entered from the adjoining corridor.
Bruno’s smile vanished.
Enzo had made a decision before the meeting.
He would not execute Bruno.
He would not hide him.
He would hand him over with evidence of kidnapping, attempted murder, conspiracy, and financial crimes.
Bruno stared at him in disbelief.
“You would send family to prison?”
Enzo looked at Adeline.
Then back at Bruno.
“You stopped being family when you decided our name gave you permission to destroy innocent people.”
The words echoed the judgment he had given Silvio.
Only this time, the consequences were greater.
Bruno was taken away.
But victory came with a cost.
Three council members resigned.
Two territories threatened revolt.
Old allies called Enzo weak.
And Alfonso remained in critical condition.
Adeline stayed.
Not because she was being paid.
Her official contract had ended.
She stayed because Enzo needed someone who did not fear his silence.
Nell underwent surgery successfully.
The first movement returned to one toe ten days later.
She cried.
Adeline cried harder.
Enzo pretended not to.
“You’re crying,” Nell told him.
“I’m not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“Medication.”
“What?”
“You’re hallucinating.”
Nell decided she liked him.
Adeline already knew she did.
That was the problem.
Weeks passed.
Alfonso returned home.
Weaker.
But alive.
One evening, he summoned Enzo and Adeline.
“I believe there is unfinished business.”
Adeline groaned.
“No.”
Alfonso smiled.
“I chose you.”
“And I refused.”
“You reconsidered.”
“I kissed him. That is not legally binding.”
Enzo raised an eyebrow.
“Depends which century we’re using.”
Adeline stared at him.
Alfonso laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“I chose you for Enzo. But I made a mistake.”
Both looked at him.
“I treated marriage like another decision an old man could make for two younger people.”
He reached for Adeline’s hand.
“You owe me nothing.”
Then he looked at Enzo.
“And neither do you.”
The old man closed his eyes.
“Choose each other. Or don’t. But choose for yourselves.”
Outside, Adeline stood beneath the autumn trees.
Enzo joined her.
“So,” he said.
“So.”
“My grandfather has released you.”
“Very generous.”
“And me.”
“Congratulations.”
He stepped closer.
“Dinner.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Go to dinner with me.”
“You own restaurants.”
“I know.”
“You have chefs.”
“Yes.”
“You live in a mansion.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“And you’re asking me on a date?”
“Yes.”
Adeline smiled.
“Where?”
“A diner in Queens.”
Now she laughed.
“Why?”
“Because you look like someone who would leave if I took you somewhere with seven forks.”
“Correct.”
Their first date lasted four hours.
No bodyguards sat at the table.
No council members interrupted.
Enzo ate pie.
Adeline told him about nursing school.
He told her he hated yachts.
She told him she hated people who called nurses “angels” and then refused to follow medical instructions.
He smiled more that night than he had in years.
When he drove her home, he did not ask her to marry him.
He kissed her forehead.
“Goodnight, Adeline.”
She caught his sleeve.
“Enzo.”
He turned.
She kissed him instead.
Across the street, inside a parked car, someone raised a camera.
The photograph was sent twenty minutes later.
Not to Bruno.
To a man in Sicily.
May you like
The reply contained only six words.
SO ANTONIO’S SON FOUND MARGARET AGAIN.
