Page 173 of Matteo

“Did you break up with—” Rio starts.

“I don’t think he wants to talk about it,” Enzo cautions.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Rio asks, tone-deaf.

“I’m not hungry.” I push my plate away, realizing that I’m not ready to talk about our vacation, or the wedding, or Elizabeth, and this idea to have lunch was not so great after all.

“Did you ask Mama when she's next coming over?” Enzo asks.

“She didn't say. I told her she should move here. There’s nothing for her there.”

“Only her beloved house and garden, her friends, and—” Enzo starts.

“But we’re here.” Rio sits back.

“Give her some grandkids and she’ll come running.” I wink at him.

“Not happening any time soon. Raquel’s loving her new job and she has lots of responsibility. That woman has serious aspirations. I’m not sure she’ll ever want to take time out to have a baby.” He sounds oddly somber. “Are you not eating that?” he asks, his eyes falling to my mostly uneaten steak.

“Not hungry.”

He holds out his hand for my plate. “Pass it over. Not having you waste a good steak.”

He has the appetite of a horse.

“What did Mama say you should do?” Enzo asks. “You went to see her because you wanted her advice,” he reminds me.

Mama said my decision had to be something I could live with. A decision which wouldn’t haunt me. I thought I knew the answer, but seeing Elizabeth has muddied my thoughts. There’s a lot to think about—the risk of surgery, then the recovery, not to mention the time away from work. And the fact that I’ll only have one kidney for the rest of my life. It has to serve me well and never fail.

But each time I think of Mama's words again, it all becomes clear again, in that moment. I don't want to live with regret, and I want to be able to go to bed at night with a clear conscience.

“I’m still thinking about it,” is all I tell them.

“I have an invite to a party,” Enzo announces, changing the subject completely. “It's being held at the Doge's Palace in Venice.”

Rio snorts. “Which royal family do you know? And you can't just host parties there. It's a historic landmark, not your personal backyard.”

“Normally, no,” Enzo says. “But this guy is sponsoring a cultural restoration project in Venice.”

“Which guy?” Rio asks.

“Luca Valizar.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Most people haven’t,” Enzo replies. “I’ve never met him. He doesn’t do interviews. Doesn’t show up in magazines. Half the photographs of him online are probably wrong.”

I’m intrigued. “Then how do you know all this?”

“He stays under the radar but is famous for funding restorations, lending pieces to museums, and spending ridiculous amounts of money acquiring things nobody else can have. He collects things.”

“Things?” Rio asks.

“Anything rare. Anything valuable. Anything unique. If there’s only one of something in the world, he wants it.”

“That sounds less like a hobby and more like a problem,” Rio murmurs.

“He’s hosting an invitation only masked ball inside the palace,” Enzo continues.