Page 13 of Enzo

They both whistle.

“Verrrrry sharp.” Dex whistles again. I wish he'd stop. “You'll come back a changed man.”

“Why's that?” I ask.

“On account of all the women you’ll meet. Could be an entire harem.”

I flinch at the words. That's not me. That's not me at all. I'm not a serial dater, or a man who cheats. I'm very careful and selective about the women I date. That probably explains why my love life has been so sparse.

I don’t look for anything serious, because I never want to hurt anyone, and I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep. I’m all too aware that love is tainted by betrayal and secrets, and it leaves its victims broken.

I keep things light, until they want more, and that’s when it ends. It's hard to trust someone. To not be drenched in doubt. To not wonder if, when and how they might hurt you.

“Stop that.” Rio swats Dex gently across the shoulder. “This is my little brother. Don't go talking about him like that. Dani wouldn’t approve of you doing that either.”

“I'm a changed man, brother,” says Dex, “I've left my old ways behind.”

Rio pans into the frame so all I see is his big, dark eyes. “Have fun, little bro.”

“Thank you. Can I go now?”

“You may go to the ball, Cinders.” Dex chortles. “I hope you meet someone nice and secretive, just like you.”

Rio shakes his head, while Dex laughs like it's the funniest thing he's said all day.

I hang up, but not before I catch a text I hadn't noticed earlier. It's from Matteo.

Matteo: Enjoy the ball. Talk when you get back.

That's sweet.

I leave my phone behind and make my way to the Doge's Palace which is around the corner. Despite my initial thoughts—that I might meet someone interesting—and I'm more interested in seeing Luca Valizar.

The other guests might see this event as romance, mystery and possibility, but for me this is about making a connection with the host.

And that's what I focus on.

The streets are busy despite the cold, lights reflecting off the water as I make my way towards St. Mark's Square. There's a distinct chill in the air, but the distance is so short that I'm not going wear a coat over this.

I walk past a woman dressed like a peacock. She looks at me. At least I think she does. Her face is covered and I can only see her eyes, but I can’t read her expression.

There are a few adventurous guys who are in full costume, dressed as princes and regents and kings in their noble clothes. Some people have come as clergy members of the Vatican, or priests, or maybe they are real priests.

I stop for a while and put on my mask, tying the satin ribbons behind my head. I have no idea what I look like.

By the time I reach the Doge’s Palace, I’m beginning to wonder if I’m here too early.

Maybe I should have turned up an hour later.

Maybe I should have turned up at ten.

Do I want to be here at all?

My invitation is checked at the entrance, and I follow the other guests inside. The sheer scale of the place is impressive. Soaring ceilings, gilded details, enormous paintings covering the walls. I hear music and laugher amid the noisy chatter.

A server walks around, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. I take a one.

A woman wearing a long, elegant emerald-sequined dress looks at me and raises hers. The man beside her does the same.