He walks to my driver's side window and taps gently on the glass.
"Madison," he says, his voice perfectly audible through the thin barrier between us. "We need to talk."
I don't roll down the window. I don't turn off the engine. But I also don't try to drive away, because there's nowhere to go with his car blocking the only exit.
"Turn off the car. Let's handle this like adults."
I don’t answer.
"Madison." His voice carries a note of warning now. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."
I realize, sitting here with the engine running and his headlights illuminating my car like a spotlight, that this moment was always inevitable. Eventually, I was going to see through the carefully constructed reality he'd built around me. And eventually, he was going to have to decide what to do about it.
The question now is: what exactly is he planning to do?
For the first time since arriving in Monte Vento, I'm genuinely afraid of the answer.
Chapter 26: Enzo
I reach her driveway just as her reverse lights illuminate. Perfect timing. She's blocked before she can escape, but not so trapped that she'll panic and do something genuinely dangerous.
I park behind her car and observe for a moment before getting out. She's sitting in the driver's seat, engine running, clearly deciding whether to fight or surrender. Her silhouette in the rearview mirror shows tension in every line of her body.
This is the moment everything changes between us.
I made a critical error during the phone call.
The moment I quoted Sarah's exact words—words Madison never told me—I knew I'd revealed too much. Years of careful control, months of meticulous planning, all undone by a single slip of the tongue.
I approach her car calmly, my footsteps loud enough on the gravel that she'll hear me coming. Predictable movements, non-threatening posture. I want her alert but not terrified. Terror leads to poor decisions.
When I tap on her window, she doesn't respond. She’s making me work for this conversation.
"Madison," I say, my voice carrying easily through the glass. "We need to talk."
She doesn't move to roll down the window, but she also doesn't try to drive away. She's calculating her options, realizing they're limited.
"Turn off the car. Let's handle this like adults."
She doesn’t turn off the car.
"Madison." I let a note of warning enter my voice. "Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."
The truth is, this moment was always inevitable. I've been preparing for it since the day she arrived in Monte Vento, though I'd hoped to control the timing better. Madison is too intelligent, too observant to accept the surface reality indefinitely. Eventually, she was going to notice inconsistencies, ask uncomfortable questions, demand answers I couldn't give without revealing everything.
The only surprise is that it took this long.
I walk around to the passenger side of her car and try the door handle. Unlocked. She really is too trusting for her own good.
I slide into the passenger seat, and she immediately turns to stare at me with those blue eyes that have been causing me problems since day one.
"Get out of my car," she says, her voice steadier than I expected.
"It's not your car. It's a rental registered to a company I control."
The information shocks her “What?"
"The rental agency, the insurance, the registration. They’re all managed through my business interests. You never had independent transportation, Madison. You had the illusion of independence."
