So instead of trying to control her, I’ll make myself necessary. Franco fixes her electricity, but slowly, so she needs him around longer. I help with permits and local politics, make it clear her business depends on my cooperation. Let her think she's winning these little battles while I control the war.
The smart long-term play.
But sitting here, I'm thinking about something else. How genuinely happy she looked when she walked into that broken house and smiled like she'd come home.
Most people I deal with want something from me—money, protection, power. Madison Sullivan wants something I can't give her and wouldn't if I could.
She wants to belong somewhere. To build something that's hers. To prove she can handle whatever gets thrown at her.
And for some reason, that makes her a hell of a lot more interesting than all the women who've thrown themselves at me hoping I'd solve their goddamn problems.
My phone buzzes again. This time it's a message from one of my contacts in Palermo: "Meeting next week. Your territory or ours?"
Business. The kind that requires my full attention and careful planning. The kind that could get people killed if I'm distracted.
I type back to Palermo: "Mine. Details to follow."
I stare at the message and realize I'm thinking about Madison instead of strategy. About whether she's warm enough in that house. Whether her damn sleeping bag will catch on fire if she goes to sleep too close to the fireplace. Whether she'll actually call if she needs help. Whether she's wondering if she made the right choice.
She’s already a huge fucking problem.
And I can't stop thinking about her.
Chapter 15: Maddie
Franco arrives earlier than expected and spends an hour poking around my electrical system, making thoughtful Italian noises and taking notes in a small leather book. His English is limited, but he manages to convey that the wiring is very old and will need to be completely replaced.
"How long?" I ask.
He holds up both hands. "Ten days. Maybe twelve."
"And the cost?"
More thoughtful noises. He writes a number in his book and shows me. It's less than I expected, but still a significant chunk of my remaining savings.
"When can you start?"
"Next week. I bring assistants."
In less than two weeks, I'll have electricity and running water. The house will actually be livable.
Today is starting out as a great day.
The day gets even better when I discover my repaired car. I'm walking down the hill to check the mail when I spot it parked in the exact spot where it disappeared from three days ago. My little blue rental car, sitting there like it never left.
There's a note tucked under the windshield wiper: "Car is good now. Keys under seat."
The keys are exactly where the note said they'd be, and when I turn the ignition, the engine starts immediately and purrs like it is brand new.
After three days of being dependent on other people for transportation, having my car back feels like Christmasmorning. I sit in the driver's seat for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of being able to go anywhere I want, whenever I want.
Franco isn't coming until two o'clock to look at my electrical system, which gives me the entire morning free. And I have a car.
The decision is easy. I'm going to take a drive.
I've been stuck in Monte Vento since I arrived, seeing only the village and Enzo's villa. Now that I have wheels again, I want to explore the area. Maybe drive to one of the coastal towns I’ve read about, do some window shopping, grab lunch somewhere new.
Just enjoy being a tourist for a few hours.
