Page 80 of Enzo

I don't like the way Matteo says my name. He turns his cell phone around to show me. It's a video clip of me and Molly dancing outside the Doge's Palace.

Molly steps closer and gasps. “Is that ...?”

Dex comes over and peers from the side. “You didn't!” he cries. “Oh brother, you really did put on a show.”

Rio peers at the screen. “Dancing, outside?” He looks at me. “You told us nothing happened.”

Matteo’s face turns serious. “The view count is climbing by the second.”

“Where did that come from?” Molly asks me.

“I don't know.”

“Doesn't matter.” Matteo doesn’t sound too pleased. “It's everywhere.”

It hits me then, why the journalists went crazy when they recognized Molly. This story has exploded all over again, only this time, Molly is in the frame.

Chapter 22

MOLLY

When the photographers charged at me, Enzo was the calm in the storm. He was the one person I was relieved to see.

He doesn't know what a rare gift it is to see something that is broken and to imagine a better existence for it. Now, being in his office and seeing him in his day-to-day surroundings, I see we live in different worlds.

Now his jacket is off. His tie is loosened as he stands at the window talking quietly into the phone. He talks with such authority and confidence. I knew that about him already, but seeing him at work puts it all into perspective.

He's not the Mysterious Masked Man.

Or the Sad Prince.

Lonely? Maybe.

I still get that vibe from him, but if I asked him, he'd deny it. I'm supposed to walk away from him, but I don't see how I can right now. I'm trapped high up in this building, with Enzo as the only person I can trust. He finally gets off the phone and quickly turns around as if he's sensed I'm here.

He stares at me.

I stare at him and recall the new clip that his brother showed him, the one of us dancing, video. The one that now seems to be going viral. My stomach twists hard. People will recognize me. The teachers. Miss T. The children. Their parents.

But, maybe not. Enzo is known, sort of. He’s from a rich family. I’m not. I’m a nobody. People won’t care.

“You're shaking.” He moves towards me, taking my hands in his as if to still them. “Can I get you some water?”

I shake my head.

I seem to have lost my voice.

Enzo's touch is soft. He moves his head closer, peers at me. “Are you okay?”

I laugh, and pull my hands away. “I will be. It all seems so ... so ...” but my voice trails to a whisper. Laughing it off didn't work, because he sees through me.

“I'm scared,” I whisper.

He reaches out as if he’s about to touch my arm, but then he withdraws. “That mob can be scary, especially if you're not used to it.”

“Are you used to it?”

“Not really. You never get used to it.”