“Depends. Is it in any way a torture chamber?” I joke, and he glares at me. “Lead the way.”
“Please put a shirt on or something. I can control myself, but some of the younger men…they will run their mouths, and then it will cost them their lives. Terrible business really, could all be solved with a t-shirt.” Enzo’s lips quirk into what could almost be considered a smile as I grab my shirt and slip it over my head.
“Hold it! Hold everything! Did you just make a joke?” My smile is sly as he tries hard to hold back laughter.
“In a way, yes. But also no. The boss will kill them for their disrespect without question.” He shrugs, and I roll my eyes.
While I find Sebastian’s tactics archaic, I understand the need to rule with an iron fist. If you allow leeway, you allow anarchy. Invite it even. And that’s how empires fall.
Slipping my feet into my green platform Vans, I gesture for Enzo to lead the way to wherever it is he’s taking me today. This villa is massive, and I haven’t experienced even a third of it. I want to leave the grounds, but I don’t think I’d feel comfortable leaving without Sebastian by my side. So for now, I’ll see everything I can from inside the safety of these stone walls. We walk mostly in silence, Enzo stopping a few times to describe some of his favorite pieces of artwork. He really is a man of few words.
“Enzo, can I ask you a personal question?” I prod, not knowing what he’s allowed to reveal or not.
“I suppose it depends on the nature of your question, Ms. Diaz. I’m not sure the boss would feel comfortable with me giving you personal details of my life.” Enzo grimaces, echoing my thoughts.
“Well, I’m gonna ask anyway because he’s not my boss. How old are you?” I question, and he looks a little surprised.
“Oh, that’s not very personal. I’m 29.” He looks straight ahead, navigating the halls with ease.
“How long have you been with Fortuna Nera?” I ask, my voice quieter this time. Is this supposed to be a secret? Surely everyone here knows who funds this lifestyle, right?
Enzo’s brows raise in surprise, as if he’s shocked I know anything at all about the Fortuna name. He gets a faraway look, maybe deciding if he’s able to give me an honest answer or if he should tell me nothing at all.
“I’ve been a part of this family since I was 17,” he finally admits, dipping his head slightly. I walk alongside him, nodding slowly.
“So much life to have lived in just 12 years.” I tell him, offering an understanding smile.
“Yes, but I’ve been given opportunities in Fortuna I would never have known had I stayed where I was before. I didn’t have the easiest upbringing. Mr. Arsenio offered me a way out, a second chance to build a life of my own that was actually worth a damn. I will be forever grateful to him for such a thing.” He speaks with such admiration, it’s hard not to believe in Sebastian’s character.
We’re almost outside. I can smell jasmine in the air as the breeze blows through several open doors. The air somehow feels fresher here. I’ve never felt suffocated by my life in Grovewood, but something about being here in this incredible place feels so much more…free.
“One more question. Then I promise I’ll give you some peace and quiet.” I try to suppress my smirk, knowing what’s to come.
“Doubtful, but please. Proceed.” He takes a deep breath, like he has to brace for impact before answering my questions.
“Do you carry a gun?” I ask, watching his eyes widen slightly before he schools his features again.
“Yes.” he replies.
“Can I shoot it?” I ask, my grin so wide I can’t contain it.
“No.” he shuts me down instantly. I knew he would, but I had to try.
“Buzzkill.” Rolling my eyes, I catch the hint of a smirk on his face out of the corner of my eye. If I’m gonna be stuck with a babysitter all week, Enzo isn’t the worst of the worst.
“Here we are. Il giardino dell’Eden” he gestures, allowing me to walk ahead of him through the large open double doors.
I’m led into the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen, a true oasis on Earth. It feels unmistakably Italian, shaped by patience, sunlight, and years of reverence for beauty. Symmetry guides my eye around the space, but the overwhelming abundance of greenery softens it. Roses spill from beside clipped boxwoods, their champagne color complemented by the Mediterranean light.
Tall cypress trees stand like twin guards, narrowing the sky and directing attention toward beautiful fountains and statues. Stone paths, worn smooth from years of generations making this place a home, invite me further into the expansive space.
“Oh, Enzo. This is incredible.” It’s almost as if you have to whisper here. Anything else feels too intrusive.
“Beauty, right?” Enzo says, smiling as he looks around the garden.
Terracotta pots brim with citrus and herbs, all orange blossoms, rosemary, and sun-warmed leaves. Beyond the garden’s edge, the yard opens to a shimmering pond. This is a place meant for afternoon strolls and late conversations, where time can truly stand still.
“Thank you so much for showing me this place. I’ve been constantly impressed by the beautiful things Italy has to offer.” I offer him a genuine smile, bending to the side to hug him. But before I can wrap an arm around his side, I’m pulled the opposite way against a wall of solid muscle.