"Ah, mon cher, you're making me weep," she says. She pauses as she shuffles a few things around before I hear a sniffle, and I realize hedidmake her weep.
Just who is this woman?
"Enzo, do I have your permission to tell her how we met?"
"Go ahead. I don't want any more secrets," he states as he looks me in the eye.
"I'll speak plainly then, dear. I was a prostitute in one of Rocco's clubs, many, many moons ago. I was his mistress first, but that bitch Lucia hired someone to ruin my face. I know it's not confirmed, but I'm positive it was her." She takes a deep breath, her voice growing heated.
"After I no longer had any appeal to Rocco, he sent me to one of his establishments to work. That's also where I met Enzo. I think he was twelve or thirteen, the poor boy. They had poured alcohol down the throat of a child and then left him to his own devices. And you've seen him… Mon Dieu, I've known many men in my life, prominent actors and models, but none as striking as him. I'm saying this most objectively, dear; please don't take offense," she pauses to tell me, and I can't help but crack a smile.
"None taken," I respond.
"Good, I know he's all yours, but everyone with two good eyes can see that he's a very good-looking man. Even back then, he was so beautiful it hurt to look at him. And that led to people taking advantage of him," she pauses with a sad sigh.
"What do you mean?" I'm almost afraid for the answer, because a drunk child and 'taken advantage of' can only mean one thing. I whip my head toward Enzo and he has a grave look on his face.
"I don't know exactly what happened before I arrived. Enzo never told me the specifics. I was walking down the hall of the club when I heard a strangled cry for help. I didn't even think—I just barged through the door, and the entire scene was horrific," her voice hitches, and she's clearly affected by what she's saying—no way anyone can feign that.
"Poor Enzo was naked, face-down on the floor, and some old man was on top of him, straddling him and…" she trails off, and I hear a sob.
Enzo's expression still hasn't changed, and I barely stop myself from reaching out in comfort.
"Thank God I got there just before the worst happened. He was so disoriented, so vulnerable, and my heart just broke for him. Somehow, after the fact, Enzo got it into his mind that he had to repay me, so he did just that."
"I bought her a club," Enzo interjects, the semblance of a smile playing at his lips.
"We've been friends for so long, but really, I see him as the son I never had," she gushes, and a blush creeps its way up Enzo's neck.
"Thank you,maman," he adds with genuine affection.
We chat a little more, and she tells me a few anecdotes ofEnzo over the years, and just as we're about to end the conversation, she adds something.
"Please be easy on him and listen to everything he has to say. I know everything points to the contrary, but I can swear on my life that my boy loves you more than anything in the world. Give him a chance, please."
"I'll let him talk," I find myself agreeing.
Mamanassures me she will drop Luca off the following day before hanging up.
Enzo pockets the phone, and I'm speechless as I look at him.
"Did they…" I can't even bring myself to ask the question. He shakes his head.
"It was a close call, butmamanwas there to help me," he replies, and I don't think he realizes how his hand instinctively reaches for the bottle of alcohol on the table.
"Enzo, I..."
"There's more," he cuts me off, taking a swig of alcohol. "I don't even know how to say this… Besidesmaman, I've never told anyone." His voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his hand rubbing at his temples.
What could be worse than that?
58
ALLEGRA
I move closer to him,covering his hand with mine. He looks down at the contact, and he squeezes his eyes shut, moving his head to the side.
"Before the club," he starts, his voice low and gruff, "my mother had an unnatural obsession with me."
