I take another sip of wine and consider how much truth I want to share with someone who's essentially holding me hostage.
"From playing it safe," I say finally. "From being the person everyone expected me to be instead of the person I wanted to be."
"And who did you want to be?"
"Someone brave enough to take risks. Someone interesting enough to have adventures." I laugh, but it doesn't sound happy. "I guess I got the adventure part."
"Indeed."
Maria brings the next course, and we eat in comfortable silence for a while. The wine is making me feel warm and slightly reckless, and the candlelight is doing absolutely unfair things to Enzo's already unfair bone structure.
"Can I ask you something?" I say as Maria clears our plates.
"Of course."
"What kind of businessman are you, exactly?"
His hand stills on his wine glass. "What kind do you think I am?"
"The kind who can afford to live like this in a village where everyone else seems to be struggling. The kind who gives fifty-thousand-euro loans based on handshakes. The kind who has cars towed without questions being asked."
"You think I sabotaged the car?"
"Didn't you?"
He doesn't answer, which is answer enough.
"Why?" I ask. "If you only wanted to collect the debt, there are legal ways to do that. Courts, lawyers, garnished wages. Why the elaborate dinner invitation?"
"Perhaps I enjoy your company."
The way he says it makes my heart speed up, which is absolutely the wrong reaction to have to someone who's essentially kidnapped me.
"You don't even know me,” I say.
"True, but I know enough."
"Such as?"
He leans back in his chair, studying me with those intense eyes again. "I know you see possibilities where other people see problems. I know you laugh when most people would cry."
The fact that he's been watching me closely enough to notice these things should be terrifying. Instead, it's weirdly flattering.
"And I also know," he continues, "that you're attracted to me despite knowing you shouldn't be."
My face goes hot because he's absolutely right and there's no point in denying it. "Of course I am because you’re handsome, but that doesn't mean anything."
"Doesn't it?"
The way he's looking at me makes my pulse race. Like he's thinking about things that have nothing to do with debt collection and everything to do with the space between us that seems to be getting smaller without either of us moving.
"We should talk about the payment arrangements," I say, because this conversation is heading somewhere dangerous.
"We should," he agrees, but he doesn't look away.
Maria appears with dessert, a tart involving chocolate and berries, and the moment breaks.
"You have two options," Enzo says as we start eating. "You can attempt to pay the debt in installments, which we've established will take approximately sixteen years. Or you can work for me."
