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The Italian boy just watched the room as the adults chatted.

[i][color=#9e0b0f]"Enzo and I will look too out of place in a club,” [/color][/i]Ian remarked. Not an inaccurate assessment to say the least. Internally, the boy felt a bit of relief at the idea of not being dragged along to the club.

[i][color=#9e0b0f]“So I propose that Enzo and I investigate the club from outside,”[/color][/i]

Large, brown eyes just blinked. They were doing [i]what[/i] now? The former ghoul tried to maintain his composure as he gave a slight bow toward the older man. [i][color=#6fa8dc]“Bene, grazie,” [/color][/i]the boy offered. Purely perfunctory. As one might respond to receiving a task from one of the [i]nonni[/i].

Internally, he was screaming.

Enzo didn’t even go hunting on the streets. These oversized bloodsuckers wanted him to play Watson to Ian’s Holmes? Subconsciously, the boy’s hands grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, fidgeting and fiddling with the fabric in his hands as he tried to process the anxiety.

He was just the [b]book keeper[/b]. A Giovanni of the main family, not some [i]La Putanesca[/i] from Sicily. Such [i]hitting the streets[/i] was not really his strong suit.

What if they came across the Sabbat? What was Enzo supposed to do? Haunt them?

Still, putting on a brave face, the boy looked up at Ian and said, [color=#6fa8dc][i]“Andiamo?”[/i][/color]

In Venice, they would have had [i]people[/i] for this sort of thing.

Unfortunately, right now, they were the people.