But for me, that hadn't mattered. I'd seen enough rotten beauty in my world, and her imperfections in no way detracted from her beautiful soul. She'd saved me that night, and I took an oath to save her, too.
It had taken me some more time, but I'd made enough money to securely move her out of the club and into a nice apartment. But a quiet life wasn't formaman, so I'd bought her a club and she'd become the chief madame. Almost a decade later, she's my closest friend.
"Where did your mind go?" She shakes her head, amused.
"To the night we met. And how I never properly thanked you for what you did for me."
"Really? Enzo, what do you call all this?" She motions to her garish but luxurious apartment.
"I should have made you quit this life; I shouldn't have enabled you further. Now, look at you. Every time I stop by, you look even sicker."
A sad smile plays on her lips, and she lets out a long sigh.
"We're all bound to die one day, Enzo. But let us not diverge into morbid talk,non? Tell me about those unexpected developments." She shifts her attention to me, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.
"I'm married." I say, raising my hand so she can see the wedding band.
"Non, c'est pas vrai!" She exclaims, jumping out of her chaise and coming toward me to study my ring. "Are you really? Or is this some sort of prank? You know how much I want to see mypetit filsbefore I die." She bends her head down, squinting an eye at the band.
"It's real," I confirm.
"Non," she whispers in disbelief. "Tell me it's notla putain, comment s'appelle-t-elle..."She pauses, closing her eyes in consternation.
"No, it's not Gianna Guerra. It's someone I met on my way to Malta."
"Enzo...Mon Dieu!"Her eyes grow wide with wonder. "Tell me everything."
So I do. I recount our entire journey and how I'd come to have a deep respect for her. And how my admiration for her strong morals had prompted me to consider her as my future wife and the mother of my children. I finish with the events from the wedding, only to findmamanstaring at me curiously.
"What?"
"It's the first time I've ever heard you talk positively about a woman. It makes me want to meet her."
"I'll bring her over next?—"
"No, of course not," Maman interrupts me immediately. "How can you bring your wife here?Non, it's not done. But I'm happy that you found yourself such a nice girl. Tell me more."
"She's…" I pause, trying to find the words, "unpredictable. I don't know what it is about her, but she's unlike anyone I've ever met." A smile plays on my lips. "She doesn't like me, you know? I can see the contempt in her eyes, and yet I can't stop myself."
"Enzo, what did you do?"Mamanasks suddenly, her eyes narrowing at me. She knows me too well.
"I trapped her," I admit, andmamanraises an eyebrow at me. "I did what I do best. I manipulated her into marrying me."
"But why?"
"It's ironic, isn't it? I've spent my entire life fending off unwanted advances from women, and theonewoman that intrigues me hates my guts." I stand up, grabbing the bottle of vodka and pouring myself a glass.Mamanhands me her cup, and I fill it, too.
Bringing the cup to my lips, I take a big swig, lighting a cigarette afterward.
"I can see how unhappy she is here, but I can't stop myself. I don't know what it is about her, but she awoke something primitive in me."
"Enzo, are you in love?"Mamantilts her head to the side, studying me.
I chuckle, because she couldn't be further off the mark.
"No, it's not love. I don't think I'm capable ofthattype of love. Not after everything that happened."Mamanis the only one privy to my deepest secrets, my most insidious shame. "I want to own her… tame that wild spirit of hers. I want to hide her away from the world so no one else can steal her from me," the words tumble from my lips, and I feel a weight being lifted off my chest as I confess this.
For weeks now, I've been living in a state of pure torment, the thought that Allegra would escape me somehow eating at me day and night. I'd planned everything to a T, but then she had to overhear my conversation with my father. My fingers clench around the vodka glass, the confrontation from that night still playing in my mind. I'd nearly snapped, and my control had cracked. After years of self-discipline, it seems I finally found someone who can make mereact.
