Chapter 4 - WHEN ENZO CAME HOME WITHOUT HIS EMPIRE, KHLOE REFUSED TO BECOME THE REWARD FOR HIS REDEMPTION—SO THE FORMER MAFIA BOSS HAD TO LEARN HOW TO LOVE A WOMAN HE COULD NO LONGER BUY, ORDER, OR PROTECT WITHOUT ASKING
Enzo left federal custody on a Tuesday morning.
Frankie picked him up.
Khloe didn't.
That surprised him.
It also didn't.
He had learned.
At noon, Khloe received a text.
FREE.
She smiled.
Typed:
CONGRATULATIONS.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared.
Then:
DINNER?
Khloe looked at her calendar.
FRIDAY.
Enzo replied:
8?
She laughed.
He remembered.
YES.
Enzo had lost weight.
Not dramatically.
Enough that his old suits hung differently.
He arrived at the restaurant early.
Khloe deliberately arrived three minutes late.
"You look different," she said.
"So do you."
"Better?"
"More expensive."
She laughed.
"That's not a compliment."
"I've been away from women."
"Clearly."
Dinner was awkward.
Good awkward.
Two people discovering whether memory and reality still matched.
Enzo asked about her work.
Actually asked.
Listened.
Khloe told him about interpreting for a terrified Sicilian grandmother in immigration court.
"She insulted the judge."
"In Sicilian?"
"Yes."
"Did you translate it?"
"Professionally."
"What did she say?"
Khloe told him.
Enzo laughed so loudly the neighboring table looked over.
For one second he resembled neither boss nor convict.
Just a man.
Khloe liked him better that way.
They dated.
Slowly.
Enzo struggled.
Not with affection.
With normality.
He sent a car when Khloe mentioned rain.
She sent it back.
He reserved an entire restaurant.
She refused to enter.
He had Frankie's security company install cameras outside her apartment without asking.
That caused their first serious fight.
"You had someone inside my building?"
"Security."
"Without telling me?"
"There were break-ins nearby."
"Not the point."
"It is to me."
"Exactly."
Enzo stopped.
Khloe continued.
"You still think fear gives you permission."
His face changed.
"I was trying to protect you."
"I know."
"Then—"
"No."
She stepped closer.
"Protection without consent is control wearing a nicer suit."
Silence.
Enzo looked away.
"That's unfair."
"Is it?"
He didn't answer.
Khloe removed the spare key she had recently given him.
Placed it on the table.
His face went pale.
"Khloe."
"I need space."
"How much?"
"I don't know."
"Are we over?"
"I don't know."
Enzo nodded.
That was all.
No threats.
No argument.
No man stationed outside her door.
He left.
That mattered.
Three weeks passed.
Then Khloe's apartment building suffered an actual break-in.
Her neighbor called police.
Khloe came home to officers.
No Enzo.
She almost expected him.
He didn't appear.
The following morning she texted:
YOU HEARD?
YES.
WHY DIDN'T YOU COME?
His answer took a minute.
YOU ASKED FOR SPACE.
Khloe stared.
Then:
I WANTED TO.
She smiled despite herself.
COME FOR COFFEE.
He arrived twenty minutes later.
"That's disturbingly fast."
"I was three blocks away."
Her eyes narrowed.
He raised both hands.
"Coffee shop. Public location. I swear."
She laughed.
Then invited him inside.
Enzo built a legitimate logistics consulting company.
Small at first.
Six employees.
Then fourteen.
He knew ports better than almost anyone.
The difference was that now every invoice existed.
Every tax was paid.
Frankie called it depressing.
Enzo called it sleep.
"I never knew legal businesses had this much paperwork."
Khloe smiled.
"Crime probably had paperwork too."
"Yes, but we could threaten accountants."
"You cannot threaten accountants."
"I know."
"Say it again."
"I cannot threaten accountants."
"Good."
Sofia eventually invited Enzo to dinner.
Khloe nearly fell off her chair.
"Why?"
Sofia shrugged.
"I knew his father."
"That's not an answer."
"I owe Antonio's son an apology."
"For what?"
"Letting him believe the Carusos killed his father."
"You were trying to survive."
"Still."
Khloe understood.
Dinner was emotional.
Sofia told Enzo stories about Antonio.
How he loved opera.
Hated tomatoes.
Cheated at cards.
Enzo cried once.
Quietly.
Nobody mentioned it.
At the end, Sofia handed him a photograph.
Antonio holding Enzo at age six.
On the back:
MY BOY WILL BE BETTER THAN ME.
Enzo stared for a long time.
Then said:
"I don't know if he was right."
Sofia answered:
"You still have time."
Khloe and Enzo moved in together after two years.
Her idea.
Important distinction.
They chose a new apartment.
Not his old penthouse.
Not hers.
Theirs.
Khloe kept her own bank account.
Enzo kept his.
They opened one joint account for household expenses.
Enzo called the system aggressively unromantic.
Khloe called it adulthood.
He proposed six months later.
Badly.
He hid the ring in dessert.
Khloe nearly swallowed it.
"What is wrong with you?"
Enzo looked horrified.
"I saw it in a movie."
"Never make decisions from movies again."
"Are you saying no?"
Khloe looked at him.
Then at the ring.
Then back.
"Ask properly."
Enzo stood.
"No."
"What?"
"You're going to choke again."
He moved the plate away.
Then sat across from her.
No kneeling.
No audience.
"Khloe Bennett."
Her heart accelerated.
"I first noticed you because you spoke a language I thought belonged to my world."
His voice softened.
"Then I discovered you understood things I didn't."
Khloe's eyes filled.
"You understood that fear doesn't equal respect."
He reached across the table.
"That money doesn't equal safety."
His fingers stopped before hers.
"That protecting someone doesn't mean deciding for them."
Khloe placed her hand in his.
"And that love isn't a debt."
Tears slid down her cheeks.
Enzo smiled.
"I can't promise I'll never become controlling again."
"Terrible proposal."
"I'm not finished."
She laughed.
"I can promise I'll listen when you tell me."
"Better."
"I can't erase what I was."
"No."
"I don't want to."
That surprised her.
"Why?"
"Because pretending it didn't happen would make every consequence meaningless."
He took a breath.
"I want to build whatever comes next with you."
Khloe squeezed his hand.
"Will you marry me?"
She waited.
Long enough to torture him.
Then:
"Yes."
Enzo exhaled.
"Really?"
"No, I enjoy emotionally abusing former criminals."
"Khloe."
"Yes."
He kissed her.
Then she whispered:
"But I'm choosing the wedding."
Enzo groaned.
"I knew there was a catch."
One month before the wedding, Anthony Bianke died in prison.
Heart attack.
Natural.
Enzo read the notice.
Folded it.
Put it away.
Khloe asked:
"How do you feel?"
"Nothing."
"That's allowed."
"I thought I'd feel relief."
"Maybe you already became free of him."
Enzo looked at her.
"Before he died?"
"Especially before."
He nodded.
Then they went grocery shopping.
There was something deeply satisfying about that.
Anthony had spent his life believing power meant forcing the world to react to him.
In the end, his death changed their dinner plans by exactly zero minutes.
The night before the wedding, Khloe couldn't sleep.
She sat in the kitchen.
Sofia joined her.
"Nervous?"
"Yes."
"Good."
"Why?"
"Means you're paying attention."
Khloe smiled.
Then asked:
"Did you ever regret marrying Dad?"
Sofia's face softened.
"Never."
"Even with everything?"
"Especially because of everything."
She looked toward the window.
"Daniel knew my real name."
Khloe froze.
"What?"
"I told him before we married."
Tears filled Sofia's eyes.
"He said if I wanted to become Sofia Bennett, he'd help me. But he wouldn't marry a lie."
Khloe swallowed.
"Why didn't you tell me that?"
"I thought protecting you meant removing the past."
Sofia reached for her hand.
"I was wrong."
Khloe squeezed.
"Dad wasn't."
"No."
Sofia smiled.
"Your father was irritatingly decent."
"Enzo says the same."
"Then perhaps he'll survive this family."
They laughed.
The wedding was scheduled for four in the afternoon.
At 3:47, Frankie entered Enzo's room.
"You ready?"
Enzo adjusted his tie.
"No."
"Good."
"What?"
"Means you're paying attention."
Enzo stared.
"Did Sofia tell you to say that?"
"No."
Frankie smiled.
"Khloe did."
Enzo laughed.
Then looked toward the door.
May you like
For the first time in his life, Enzo Bianke was about to enter a room where nobody feared him.
And he had never been more nervous.
Related Stories
