"How is the security at the restaurant?" I ask Emilio.
"Already in place. Two inside, three on the perimeter."
"Are they too obvious?"
"Only if someone's paying attention."
"The lawyer will be."
Madison texts: "Leaving now."
I make sure to arrive early enough at the restaurant to ensure everything is ready. The manager knows tonight needs to be perfect with exceptional service.
Through the window, I watch Antonio's car arrive with the three women. Sarah Phillips emerges first, scanning the street. Jessica Williams follows, already photographing everything. Madison's nervous energy is visible even from a distance. She's maintaining her smile, but her shoulders are tense.
They enter with Madison spotting me immediately. The relief on her face when she sees I'm already here is both gratifying and concerning. She's truly worried about this visit.
"You must be Enzo," Sarah extends her hand before Madison can make introductions. A power play. Taking control of the interaction first.
"Ms. Phillips." I keep my grip firm but not aggressive. “Nice to meet you.”
"Sarah, please." Her eyes are already cataloging details. "Madison's told us absolutely nothing about you."
"There's not much to tell."
"Oh, I doubt that."
Her challenge is subtle but clear. She's testing me to see how I respond.
The dinner proceeds exactly as anticipated. Sarah asks probing questions I casually deflect. Jessica takes photos of everything. Madison tries to keep conversation light while her friend continues her interrogation of me and our situation.
The waiter approaches, one of mine, briefed on tonight's requirements. He addresses me in Italian.
"English, please," I tell him. "Our guests don't speak Italian."
Sarah's eyes narrow slightly. She heard how he addressed me, even if she didn't understand the words. His tone was clear, I’m someone important, someone feared.
I order wine, an excellent local vintage from a vineyard I own but don't advertise. Sarah notices the label, files it away. Everything she observes is data for later analysis.
"So," Jessica says brightly, "how did you two meet?"
Madison freezes slightly. We haven't rehearsed this story.
"Madison inherited some property complications with her house," I say smoothly. "I helped resolve them."
"What kind of complications?" Sarah asks.
"Legal matters. Very boring."
"I'm a lawyer,” she says. “I don't find legal matters boring."
"Italian property law is different from American. Complex inheritance taxes, usage rights, agricultural classifications."
All true, all boring, all completely beside the point of Madison owing me fifty-eight thousand euros.
"And that led to a tourism partnership?" Sarah's skepticism is sharp.
"Madison has vision for the village's potential. I have resources to help realize it."
