Page 51

My dad has his fists clenched so tight his knuckles are white. "Outside. Now."
Enzo sighs and follows my dad out of the office.
It still doesn’t make any sense to me. All this time, Chet was Enzo?
I chide myself for not making the connection earlier.
Marchetti. My dad was always a joker with names, so he’d pick up on the spelling, even if the sound is different. Though it sounds like mar-Ket-ty, Enzo’s last name is spelled mar-Chet-ti. Chet.
But then again, how the hell could anyone have seen this coming?
I remember the stories my father used to tell me about his best friend from Italy. He always spoke so fondly of their time together, and I never once suspected that I’d run into him one day.
Chet was a perfect stranger, a man I'd never met but had heard about from my dad. It wasn't supposed to Enzo.
None of this was supposed to happen.
I can hear them arguing from behind the door. I don't think I've ever seen my dad get this angry before. It's one thing to catch your daughter with another man, but it's a whole different story when it’s your friend.
"Michael, you're blowing things out of proportion here..." Enzo tries to reason.
"Out of proportion? Do you really think there's nothing wrong with you taking advantage of my daughter like that?"
"It's not like that. She's an adult, and none of us could have ever predicted this in our wildest dreams."
"You didn't have to predict anything if you could have just kept your damn hands off of her," my dad fires back. "You should be ashamed of yourself. What if it was Luciana who'd done something like this instead?"
"Don't bring her into this...." Enzo’s voice sounds steely.
"You're damn right I will bring her into it. You lost the right to ask me that when you got involved with Quinn. How long has this been going on?"
I cannot take this anymore. I knew I should have stayed away from Enzo when he'd called me to talk. I'd managed to do that so well this last week, and yet... he'd broken my resolve.
Now look at what that has brought me to.
Without a second thought, I bolt for the door.
The two men stop arguing as I rush past them.
"I'm so sorry," I mumble, my voice choked with emotion, still not finding the courage to look either in the eye.
It's better for everyone if I just go.
"Quinn!" Enzo calls out after me.
But I don't stop, knowing dad won’t let him follow me outside.
As I reach the exit, a hand reaches out to steady me, and I find myself face to face with a pair of concerned brown eyes. "Are you okay?"
Alessio.
I open my mouth to reply, but the words catch in my throat.
He's staring at me, concerned. "Did something happen in there?"
"I... I need to go," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
Without waiting for a response, I turn and flee down the street, the sound of Alessio's concerned voice fading into the distance behind me.