Chapter 7 - WHEN SANTINO SAID NO
Santino looked at Caitlyn for so long that she became angry just to survive the silence.
“Well?”
He closed the book in his hand.
“No.”
Caitlyn stared.
Of every answer she had prepared for, that had not been one.
“No?”
“No.”
“You did not even ask why.”
“I know why.”
Her face heated.
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“Helen’s transplant evaluation. The dependent medical plan. The succession settlement.”
Caitlyn crossed her arms.
“That is most of it.”
“Most?”
She hated the question.
“Yes.”
Santino walked toward the glass wall overlooking the bay.
Snow had begun again.
Newport looked expensive even under weather.
Caitlyn said:
“You can stop looking dramatic and explain.”
His mouth shifted.
“This is not drama.”
“You are standing in front of the ocean after rejecting a marriage proposal.”
“Fair.”
He turned.
“I am not marrying you for access to health insurance.”
Caitlyn’s anger sharpened.
“It is not insurance.”
“Fine. Private medical-plan eligibility.”
“Also the settlement.”
“Yes.”
“And stability.”
“For whom?”
“Me. Helen. Maybe you.”
Santino stared.
“There.”
“What?”
“You listed yourself third.”
Caitlyn went still.
He continued.
“You have spent eight months making sure every choice protects your mother, fixes Thomas’s records, corrects the Ferraro trust, protects Walter, and keeps me from becoming my father.”
“That last one is a full-time position.”
He almost smiled.
Then became serious.
“Where are you in the proposal?”
She looked away.
“That is not fair.”
“It is exactly fair.”
“You think poor people get to make choices in a clean room?”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“I think poverty contaminates choices with pressure.”
That stopped her.
Santino continued.
“That is why I’m saying no while the pressure exists.”
Caitlyn laughed bitterly.
“Easy for you.”
“Yes.”
He did not defend himself.
“It is easier for me. That is also why I have a responsibility not to pretend your desperation is romance.”
Her throat tightened.
“I did not say romance.”
“I know.”
“Maybe I don’t need romance.”
“Maybe.”
He looked at her.
“But you need a choice you can live with after Helen is stable.”
Caitlyn wanted to hate him.
Instead, her eyes filled.
That made her angrier.
“Do not be decent right now.”
“I’ll try to time it worse next time.”
She laughed through tears.
Then wiped them away.
“So what do you suggest?”
Santino walked to the desk.
He opened a folder.
“I changed the plan.”
“What plan?”
“The medical plan.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Before I asked?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Leah told me the marriage route yesterday.”
Caitlyn stared.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you changed it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Expanded dependent eligibility for anyone for whom a Ferraro household employee or trust beneficiary provides documented primary support.”
Caitlyn blinked.
“In English.”
“Helen qualifies without you marrying me.”
Silence.
Caitlyn stopped breathing.
“Already?”
“Effective Monday.”
“You changed a company medical plan for my mother.”
“No.”
He held her gaze.
“I changed it for any household family caregiver in the same situation.”
That mattered.
A system.
Not an exception.
Caitlyn sat slowly.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was going to after counsel confirmed it.”
She laughed weakly.
“So my dramatic proposal was unnecessary.”
“Yes.”
“That is humiliating.”
“Only if I tell Walter.”
“You will die.”
He almost smiled.
Then Caitlyn looked at the settlement folder.
“And the shares?”
“Separate.”
“You are willing to litigate against me for years?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I authorized a neutral valuation and proposed restitution into a trust you control regardless of marital status.”
Caitlyn stared.
“You did what?”
“Michael’s intended branch should not vanish because Antonio killed the plan before papers were signed.”
“That sounds like your opinion, not law.”
“It is.”
“You are giving me millions because you think your father stole them.”
“I am returning value my family may have wrongfully absorbed.”
Caitlyn’s head spun.
“You really worked hard to destroy my proposal.”
“I disliked the terms.”
She looked at him.
“And if I still want to marry you?”
That stopped him.
Good.
Now Santino looked less certain.
Caitlyn hated how satisfying that was.
He asked:
“Do you?”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
There.
The truth.
“I don’t know.”
Santino nodded.
“Then no.”
She exhaled.
“Right.”
“No until you know.”
She looked at him.
“That is annoyingly reasonable.”
“I have been practicing.”
“With who?”
“You.”
Heat moved across her face.
She stood.
“I hate this conversation.”
“I know.”
“I need air.”
“Security—”
She glared.
He corrected.
“Do you want security?”
“Yes.”
His mouth shifted.
“Progress.”
Caitlyn walked the east gardens for twenty minutes with one guard far enough away not to hear her curse.
She thought about marriage.
Not the contract.
Not Helen.
Santino.
He was difficult.
Controlling.
Too comfortable with fear.
He also remembered which tea she drank.
Made Walter eat lunch when the old man skipped it.
Listened when Caitlyn said no even when he hated the answer.
He had changed the medical plan before she could sell herself to it.
That scared her more than a business marriage would have.
A business marriage had rules.
Feelings were badly drafted contracts.
When she returned, Walter waited by the garden door.
His expression was strange.
“What?”
“You asked him.”
Caitlyn stopped.
“How do you know?”
“I have worked in this house since before you were born.”
“That is not magic.”
“No.”
His mouth moved.
“The walls are thin.”
Caitlyn closed her eyes.
“I am leaving the country.”
Walter laughed.
Then became serious.
“He said no.”
“Yes.”
Walter nodded.
“Good.”
She stared.
“Everyone approves of rejection today.”
“He said no for the right reason.”
“How do you know?”
Walter looked toward the sitting room.
“Because Antonio would have said yes before you finished asking.”
That chilled her.
“What would Antonio have done?”
“Married you. Controlled the claim. Called your mother’s treatment generosity.”
Caitlyn looked back at the glass room.
Santino was at the desk.
Working.
“Michael?” she asked.
Walter smiled sadly.
“He would have asked Helen whether she was sure.”
That mattered too.
Later that night, Helen woke from a nap.
Caitlyn sat beside her.
“I asked Santino to marry me.”
Helen stared.
Then started laughing.
Caitlyn looked offended.
“This is why I keep secrets from you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Helen tried to stop.
Failed.
“What did he say?”
“No.”
Helen laughed harder.
“Mom.”
“He likes you.”
“That is not helpful.”
“He does.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because you spent your whole life refusing to ask anyone for help, and when you finally decided to ask, you skipped directly to marriage.”
Caitlyn stared.
“That sounds bad when you say it.”
“It was bad before.”
Helen reached for her hand.
“Why did you ask?”
“Transplant plan. Shares.”
“Only?”
Caitlyn hated mothers.
“No.”
Helen smiled.
“There.”
“What?”
“Your problem.”
Caitlyn looked toward the window.
“I don’t know what I feel.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Maybe listen.”
Caitlyn squeezed her hand.
Then Helen became serious.
“Do not marry him for me.”
Caitlyn’s eyes filled.
“Mom.”
“No.”
Helen’s grip tightened.
“I let you become Caitlyn Bell because I thought hiding you would keep you safe. I already chose too much of your life for you.”
“That was different.”
“Love always says it is different.”
Thomas’s letter echoed.
Love does not make secrecy harmless.
Helen continued.
“If Santino is a good man, he will help me without owning you.”
“He already changed the plan.”
Helen’s eyes softened.
“Then maybe he is learning.”
At 11:36, Santino’s phone rang.
Not Caitlyn’s.
He came into Helen’s room ten minutes later.
His face was cold.
“What?” Caitlyn asked.
“Victor Marchetti contacted my lawyer.”
Helen went white.
Caitlyn stood.
“What does he want?”
Santino looked at her.
“To surrender.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“He says he has cancer.”
Helen closed her eyes.
Santino continued.
“And he says he will testify to everything.”
“That helps Helen’s identity case.”
“Yes.”
“Then where is the trap?”
Santino’s face hardened.
“He wants one thing in exchange.”
Caitlyn almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“What?”
Santino looked at her.
“He wants to see you before he dies.”
After Victor’s call, Caitlyn found Santino alone in the chapel at the far end of the estate.
She had never seen him there before.
Small room.
Dark wood.
One candle.
“You pray?”
“No.”
“Then why are you in a chapel?”
“My mother used to come here when my father frightened her.”
Caitlyn stopped.
Santino looked toward the altar.
“I used to sit outside the door.”
“How old?”
“Ten. Eleven.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“You were a child.”
“I know.”
He said it like someone who had learned the sentence but not accepted it.
Caitlyn sat beside him.
“Is that why you hate not being able to fix things?”
He looked at her.
“That sounded psychological.”
“I watch daytime television at dialysis.”
His mouth moved.
Then he became serious.
“Maybe.”
Caitlyn looked at the candle.
“When I asked you to marry me, did you want to say yes?”
Santino’s face changed.
“That is unfair.”
“You like fair questions.”
“I like questions I can answer strategically.”
“Too bad.”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
Her heart kicked.
He continued before she could react.
“That is why I had to say no.”
Caitlyn stared.
“If I did not want it, the decision would have been easy.”
The room felt smaller.
Caitlyn stood.
“I need to go.”
“Why?”
“Because you are making my bad idea emotionally complicated.”
He almost smiled.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
May you like
“No.”
She left before he could see her smiling.
