VIDAL

FOUR

Enzo stepped through the polished glass doors of the nursing home, immediately greeted by the soft murmur of quiet conversations, the rustle of newspapers, and the clink of teacups.

The air was warm and perfumed with a faint scent of lavender, lending an almost surreal calm to the place. It was a high-end facility, no doubt—gleaming floors, plush furnishings, and an attentive staff that moved with quiet efficiency.

As Enzo waited near the reception desk, he took it all in with sharp eyes. This was where Paul had been funneling all that money—a far cry from the kind of nursing home most people could afford.

It was comforting, in a way. Paul's dirty dealings may have caused trouble for a lot of people, but at least some of the funds were being used to keep his mother, Dorthia, in top-notch care.

A glance into the large community room revealed several elderly residents seated in comfortable chairs, immersed in various activities—some playing cards, others knitting or reading books.

A couple of women sat near the window, watching birds flutter by as though it was the highlight of their day. It was peaceful, serene in a way that felt detached from the chaos of the world outside.

Enzo shifted the bouquet of sunflowers in his hands, their bright yellow petals standing out against the muted tones of the room.

Paul had been specific in his instructions: "Bring her sunflowers, she loves them." Enzo smirked to himself. Paul might have been tangled in dark business, but when it came to his mother, the man was sentimental, almost boyish in his devotion.

A few minutes passed before an aide appeared, wheeling Dorthia into the room.

She was a frail woman, her silver hair pinned back neatly, her eyes soft and unfocused as she gazed at her surroundings with the distant air of someone lost in her own thoughts.

The aide offered Enzo a polite smile before stepping away, leaving him alone with her.

Dorthia blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to place him.

For a moment, Enzo could see the confusion flicker across her face—her mind struggling to piece together where she was and who he might be. But then, recognition lit up her eyes, and she smiled warmly.

"Paul," she said softly, her voice thin but affectionate. "You've come again."

Enzo's chest tightened, but he didn't correct her. There was no need to. He stepped closer, holding out the bouquet.

"Look what I brought for you," he said, his voice gentler than usual.

Her face lit up with pure delight. "Sunflowers! Oh, you always remember, don't you, dear? You bring them every time."

She reached out for the flowers, her hands trembling slightly as she took them from him. She held them close, inhaling their sweet scent, her expression one of pure contentment.

"They're beautiful," Dorthia murmured, her eyes misting over. "You're such a good boy, always thinking of me."

Enzo smiled softly as Dorthia admired the sunflowers, the joy in her expression tugging at something deep within him.

She may have aged, her body frail and delicate now, but there was still a youthful spark in her eyes, a warmth that made her seem younger than her years.

The lines on her face were softened by that smile, and for a moment, the weight of the world felt a little lighter for Enzo.

Dorthia set the flowers down on the small table beside her, her fingers lingering on the petals as she turned her gaze back to him.

"So, tell me," she began, still believing him to be her son, "how's work? Are they treating you well?"

Enzo hesitated, unsure whether to stick to pleasantries or indulge in the growing temptation to speak freely.

After all, she was a safe confidant in this moment. And maybe he needed to let off some steam. Under the guise of Paul, the walls around him felt looser.

"Work's fine," he started, but the words tasted sour.

He glanced away, staring at the polished floor before adding, "Actually, no—it's tough. My boss is working me too hard. More than he should."

Dorthia frowned in sympathy, her hand resting on his. "Oh, Paul, you've always worked so hard. But if things are difficult, you should tell him. Stand up for yourself. You're not just some lackey to be pushed around."

Enzo chuckled darkly, shaking his head. "It's not that simple, Ma." He winced internally at the slip of calling her that.

His mind flashed to Ivan—his real boss—and the layers of power, loyalty, and fear that intertwined in their relationship. How could he explain that you don't just "talk" to someone like Ivan?

"Why not?" she pressed, her eyes full of genuine concern. "You deserve better than that."

Enzo opened his mouth to respond, but something in her gaze pulled him up short. She thought she was talking to her son, her Paul.

Her words came from a place of love, but the truth was, he was taking advantage of her confusion.

A pang of guilt shot through him as he realized he was venting to a woman who had no idea who he really was, no clue about the dark realities behind his life.

"I—uh, I should go," Enzo said abruptly, standing up from his chair. "It's getting late."

Dorthia looked slightly confused by his sudden change in demeanor but nodded.

"Alright, dear. But you promise me you'll look after yourself, okay? Don't let them push you too hard."

Enzo forced a smile, leaning down to kiss her lightly on the cheek. "I'll do my best, take care, alright?"

She smiled warmly at him, the same familiar affection she would've given her son, and it only made the knot of guilt in his chest tighten.

As he left the nursing home, the weight of the encounter lingered heavily on his mind.

~*~

Camilla walked into the office with a spring in her step, her mood brighter than it had been in weeks.

After a rare, blissful week without overtime, she finally felt rested, refreshed, and even a little ahead on rent.

As she made her way to her desk, Camilla noticed a buzz of activity coming from the conference room. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear the clinking of glasses and light laughter spilling out.

Curiosity piqued, she paused in front of the glass windows and peered inside.

A group of attorneys and staff members were gathered around a woman, all holding glasses of white wine as they toasted.

Camilla immediately recognized the woman at the center—Giulia.

She was tall, elegant, and striking, her rich brown skin glowing under the conference room's lighting. Camilla's stomach did a nervous flip. S

he remembered seeing Giulia at the party, but now, she was here—introducing herself as the newest addition to the firm.

"To our newest partner," one of the senior attorneys announced, raising his glass. "Giulia comes to us with an impressive background in defense law. We're excited to have her expertise and leadership on board."

Camilla's eyes widened. A partner. Of course she was. Giulia seemed to have it all: the confidence, the experience, the respect of everyone in the room.

She was everything Camilla wanted to be, and that only made her more nervous.

When the group dispersed after the toast, Giulia's eyes landed on Camilla through the glass, and a friendly smile spread across her face. Camilla instinctively straightened, her heart pounding as Giulia walked toward her.

"Hi," Giulia said warmly as she stepped out of the conference room. "You must be Camilla, right? I've seen you around. I'm Giulia."

Camilla swallowed her nerves and offered a tentative smile. "Yes, that's me. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Giulia said, her tone easy, almost as if they were old friends. "I recognize you from the event the other night. I didn't get a chance to introduce myself then. But I'm glad we have now."

Camilla blinked, taken aback by how approachable Giulia seemed. She had been sure Giulia would be too intimidating to notice her, let alone remember her from the party.

"Yeah, I remember. That's—wow, it's a small world."

Giulia chuckled, then glanced around the office before leaning in slightly.

"You know, I've noticed something," she said, lowering her voice. "We're the only two Black women in this office."

Camilla's heart skipped. "Oh, I—yeah, I guess we are," she said, still a little stunned.

Giulia smiled.

"Which means we need to stick together." The statement wasn't just a casual remark; it felt like an invitation, a way of saying she saw Camilla, understood her in a way that no one else in the office could.

And it was that realization—that Giulia, with all her poise and success, actually liked her—that left Camilla momentarily speechless.

Before she could find the right words to respond, Giulia added, "I'd love to see how you work. I've got a meeting with a client coming up. Why don't you join me?"

Camilla's nerves kicked back in, but the excitement of the opportunity overpowered them. "I—sure, I'd love that."

Just as the words left her mouth, Kevin walked by and overheard the exchange. His face instantly tightened with concern. "Camilla, we have that meeting with Aleks today, remember? It's important."

Giulia turned to face Kevin, her expression calm but firm. "I'm aware. But I'm her superior now, and I think this is a good chance for Camilla to get some firsthand experience. I'll take responsibility if anything comes up."

Kevin blinked, clearly caught off guard by Giulia's confidence. He opened his mouth to protest again but quickly realized he had no ground to stand on.

"Alright," he muttered, backing down reluctantly. "Just... don't forget about Aleks."

Giulia gave him a polite but dismissive nod, then turned back to Camilla with a smile. "Shall we?"

Camilla followed her, still processing everything that had just happened. Not only had Giulia taken an interest in her, but she had also stood up to Kevin in front of the entire office. Camilla couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement and nerves all at once.

As they walked out, the reality hit her: this was a chance to prove herself, and she couldn't afford to mess it up.

~*~

Camilla followed Giulia through the bustling, tree-lined streets of the city, the kind that wound and curved, leading to tucked-away spots only locals seemed to know.

The sun filtered down through the branches, casting dappled shadows on the cobblestone sidewalk, while the soft hum of weekend life filled the air.

They reached a cozy, upscale restaurant nestled between two historic brownstones. Ivy crawled up the brick facade, and flowering vines trailed down from wrought-iron balconies above.

It was charming, sophisticated, and exactly the kind of place Camilla would have picked for herself if she were aiming to impress a high-profile client.

The hostess greeted them warmly and led them to a quiet, open-air patio set slightly apart from the main dining area.

White linens draped the tables, catching in the gentle breeze, while heavy cast-iron chairs with plush cushions sat arranged under the leafy canopy of sycamore trees, their wide branches shading the tables from the afternoon sun.

Beyond the patio's low stone wall, planters overflowed with herbs and colorful blooms, giving the space a calm, almost secluded feel.

Camilla glanced around, expecting to see their client arriving any moment, but Giulia took her seat with a relaxed smile, motioning for Camilla to sit across from her.

The casual ease with which Giulia settled into her chair made Camilla pause. She had imagined a brisk coffee meeting, somewhere inside by a window, the type of setting she knew well from her countless business meetings with Kevin.

Instead, this felt more like a leisurely escape than the usual client rendezvous, and as she took her seat, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was slightly unprepared for whatever might come next.

As she settled across from Giulia, Camilla instinctively reached into her bag, pulling out her pen and notebook.

The motion was automatic—years of meetings and preparation had trained her to always be ready. But before she could even click the pen, Giulia raised a perfectly manicured hand, palm outward, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"Put that away, Camilla," Giulia said, her voice soft yet commanding. "Today's meeting doesn't need notes."

Camilla paused, the pen hovering in her hand. She blinked, feeling momentarily off balance. This was not how her meetings usually went.

Reluctantly, she set the notebook aside, the slight clatter of the pen hitting the table louder than she intended.

The elegant surroundings—the crisp tablecloths, the clinking of glasses from nearby tables, the distant hum of traffic blending with birdsong—felt suddenly more intimate, less professional.

A moment later, the waiter arrived, moving fluidly between the tables with an air of practiced ease.

Giulia didn't bother with menus or hesitation. She ordered a bottle of wine with a simple wave, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving Camilla to sit in a state of mild confusion. This was far from the coffee-and-client encounter she had expected.

Giulia leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxed, completely at ease with the situation. The sunlight filtered through the trees above, casting soft patterns of light and shadow across the table, while a gentle breeze stirred the leaves.

Camilla, on the other hand, felt her nerves dancing just beneath the surface. She glanced around the patio, trying to ground herself in the tranquil surroundings—the glinting silverware, the muted conversations from nearby diners, the soft clatter of plates and cups.

The waiter returned with the bottle, pouring two glasses of deep ruby wine into crystal goblets. The soft gurgle of the liquid filling the glasses seemed to punctuate the shift in tone.

Giulia, still wearing that enigmatic smile, lifted her glass gracefully.

"To new beginnings," she toasted, her gaze holding Camilla's with an intensity that made it hard to look away.

Camilla hesitated for only a moment before picking up her own glass. The rim was cool against her lips as she took a sip, the rich, smooth flavor of the wine settling warmly in her chest.

It was far more decadent than anything she was used to during office hours. She placed the glass back down, her mind racing as she tried to figure out where this was going.

Giulia's eyes sparkled with quiet amusement, as if she knew exactly what Camilla was thinking.

"You seem a bit tense," Giulia observed, still smiling. "Don't worry, this isn't business as usual. Let's get to know each other a bit more first."

Camilla glanced at her half-full glass, then back at Giulia. She had no idea what was coming next, but it was clear that Giulia had her own plan for this "meeting." And whatever it was, it didn't involve notes, clients, or anything remotely formal.

Giulia leaned back in her chair, her fingers tracing the rim of her wine glass before she spoke.

"Since we're going to be working closely together, you should know the real me," she began, her voice calm but filled with intention. "I'm first-generation Black Italian. My parents had nothing when they brought me to America, but they wanted a better life for me. So, I did what I had to. I put myself through law school by stripping."

Camilla blinked, momentarily stunned by the unexpected admission. She had assumed Giulia's career had followed a more conventional path.

"You... stripped to pay for school?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She wasn't judging, just trying to wrap her mind around the sharp contrast between the confident lawyer before her and the world she had come from.

Giulia's lips curled into a small, proud smile. "Not everyone would admit that, but I'm proud of it. It taught me resilience, adaptability, and how to read people—the skills I value most as a lawyer. In a courtroom, reading the room is everything, and I learned that skill in places far less glamorous than law school."

Camilla's eyes widened as she absorbed the gravity of what Giulia had been through, and a deep sense of respect settled over her.

"That's... incredible. Bold, even. You're obviously dedicated."

"Life requires boldness," Giulia replied, her gaze steady and unwavering. "But I didn't go into law blindly. I started working for politicians after graduating. It opened my eyes to the corruption all around us. The things I saw—well, they made me decide against defending criminals. Instead, I prosecute to make sure the right people are behind bars."

Camilla leaned in, completely captivated.

"That makes sense," she said, nodding. "I don't know if I could ever keep my focus like that. I just take my orders and try to stay out of people's way."

Giulia arched a brow, her expression shifting to one of mild intrigue. "Is that why you keep working with Aleks?" she asked, her voice sharper now. "I can't imagine he's easy to be around."

The directness of the question caught Camilla off guard, and she felt her cheeks warm as she fumbled for a response.

"To be honest," she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, "he makes me uncomfortable. It's more than just his... presence. There's something about him that feels intense, maybe even dangerous. But Kevin's been my boss for so long, and I guess I figured loyalty meant just pushing through it."

Giulia's gaze softened slightly as she studied Camilla's face.

"You don't have to stay loyal to something that no longer serves you," she said gently. "And you definitely don't have to work with men who make you uncomfortable. As of now, you're my assistant. I'll make sure you never have to deal with Aleks again."

Camilla stared at her, uncertain. "But what about Kevin?" she asked, feeling a tug of hesitation. "He's been good to me."

Giulia leaned forward, her eyes locking with Camilla's in a way that made her feel both challenged and protected at the same time.

"Kevin's fine, but I'm offering you more. Twice what you're making now. You don't have to decide right this minute, but I'd think about it if I were you."

Camilla's breath caught in her throat.

Double her salary? She'd been struggling for months to catch up on bills. And the prospect of not having to work under the constant stress of Aleks' presence—it was more tempting than she wanted to admit.

Giulia's smile widened, sensing her hesitation.

"Why don't you come to a charity auction I'm hosting next weekend? It'll give you a chance to see the kind of world I'm offering. You'll need a dress, of course, but don't worry—one will be provided."

Camilla hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on her shoulders.

She thought about Kevin—how much of her career had been shaped by his mentorship, his trust in her. He had always been fair, dependable, and though he could be demanding, she knew he counted on her.

She'd played a part in his success, helping him navigate complex cases and clients, and for that, he had given her a secure place in his firm.

Loyalty meant something to her, and it wasn't easy to imagine walking away from all they had built together.

But then, she thought about herself—about the long nights, the unspoken discomfort she'd felt with Aleks, the constant juggling between being loyal to Kevin and feeling unsettled.

The more she weighed it, the clearer it became that her loyalty had been one-sided for a long time.

Kevin might have been good to her, but had she been good to herself?

She had worked hard to prove her worth, but what had she gained other than more stress and less time for herself?

Giulia was offering her something different—more money, more autonomy, and a fresh start without the baggage of Aleks' looming presence. This wasn't just about escaping discomfort; it was about stepping into a new role where she could grow without the chains of her current situation.

Her loyalty to Kevin felt like a tie to the past, but her loyalty to herself... that was a path to the future.

Still, it wasn't an easy decision. She swallowed, feeling the conflict roil in her chest, but Giulia had already dismantled every objection she had. Kevin had given her a lot, but maybe it was time she took charge of what she deserved.

With no real reason to say no, Camilla nodded slowly, her decision made.

"Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll come."

~*~

As the sun began to set outside her office window, Giulia settled into the plush leather chair behind her desk, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her first day had been a whirlwind, but she had accomplished everything she'd set out to do—and more.

Camilla Hale was now under her wing, and that was exactly what she needed to secure her position, both in the firm and in the larger scheme she was part of.

Everything had fallen into place perfectly.

She reached for her phone and dialed a number she knew by heart. After a couple of rings, Enzo picked up on the other end.

"Giulia," he said, his voice low and steady. "How did it go?"

She leaned back, crossing her legs, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest.

"I'm in," she said confidently. "Everything went according to plan. I've positioned myself right where I need to be, and Camilla is officially under my protection. Aleks won't get near her—not without me knowing."

There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a relieved sigh from Enzo. "Thank you. This means a lot."

Giulia's smile deepened. "No need to thank me. I like her. Camilla's sharp, maybe a little too cautious, but I can work with that. She's a good person, and I'd rather see her thrive than get dragged into something she doesn't understand."

There was a pause, and then Enzo spoke again, his voice softer this time. "Yeah... I like her too."

Giulia's eyebrow arched at the admission, though it didn't surprise her.

"I figured as much. You wouldn't be asking me to get involved if you didn't care about her." She let the words linger for a moment before continuing. "But let's make one thing clear—if I'm going to keep her safe from Aleks, you owe me."

Enzo's voice held a hint of humor now. "What do you want?"

Giulia's gaze flicked to the invitation lying on her desk—the charity auction she'd be hosting this weekend, a gathering of high-profile lawyers, clients, and political figures. She didn't need Enzo there for protection, but she had her reasons.

"You'll attend my event this weekend. I want you there, front and center."

"Consider it done," Enzo said without hesitation.

"Good," she replied, a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Then we're even. For now."