by Bethany-Kris
PRIVILEGE
RENZO + LUCIA
BOOK 1
BETHANY-KRIS
DEDICATION
For the youngbloods, and the young loves.
CONTENTS
PRIVILEGE
PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
COMING SOON
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS
Copyright
PROLOGUE
Understand that the right to choose your own path is a sacred privilege.
— Oprah Winfrey
Lucia Marcello
The baby hadn’t been planned or expected, not when her oldest sibling had over a decade of years on her, and her parents had believed undoubtedly that they would not have any more children after their last daughter.
But here she was.
And God knew she was loved.
Maybe she hadn’t been planned, but she had been most wanted.
Born in the early morning inside a private suite, the baby girl was wrapped in the softest muslin wrap after being warmed, and washed of any remnants of the birth. Tucked away in a Labor and Delivery Ward of a hospital where there was a doctor for every few patients, and three nurses to every laboring woman, her parents made calls to people who were probably still sleeping, and had their own children to care for.
Aunts, uncles, grandparents …
Despite sleeping, those people would still come.
They would come to welcome a new principessa to the Marcello family. They would come to congratulate her parents. They would bring her oldest brother, and two older sisters to say hello for the first time. They would bring gifts, and beautiful things to say thank you for being ours.
They would all hear her name.
Lucia.
And they would love her simply because she was alive. They would love her because she was born a Marcello.
Born rich, to a family that was both adored and feared, her parents would make sure she wanted for nothing.
That was the privilege of Lucia Marcello.
Simply because she had been born.
• • •
Renzo Zulla
The baby hadn’t been planned or expected, not when his mother was barely past her sixteenth birthday and hadn’t slept on a mattress with a sheet since before she found out she was pregnant.
But here he was.
And God knew he wasn’t wanted.
Maybe he hadn’t been planned or wanted, but his mother couldn’t find it in herself to give him up, either.
Born on a warm evening in an Emergency Room triage bed because his mother had waited too long to go to the hospital, and the Labor and Delivery Ward was full, the baby boy laid wrapped in scratchy cotton. His mother explained tiredly for the third time that she didn’t have an insurance card. With a smear of ruddy blood still staining the floor of a hospital where the hallways were currently full of the sick, and the nurses were overworked, one thought to ask his mother if there was someone she might like to call.
Grandparents, other family … the father, perhaps?
Those people would never come.
They wouldn’t come to welcome a new baby they hadn’t even known the teenager was pregnant with. They wouldn’t come to congratulate his mother. They wouldn’t come to help, or to show his mother how to love him or keep him alive. They wouldn’t bring gifts, or any beautiful things.
They wouldn’t hear his name at all.
Renzo.
Given the name his father hated when his mother told the man the ones she was considering for him in a dank alley months ago. Given a name that would already make his absent father hate him.
Born poor, to a mother who’d only stopped sucking on a pipe long enough to birth a healthy child she refused to give up, and without a home to keep him warm.
That was the misfortune of Renzo Zulla.
Simply because he had been born.
ONE
The one thing a person could never escape once they were born a Marcello?
Love.
Sometimes that love was soft, and supportive, and everything a person needed to propel them into a world that was ready to tear them to bits. And sometimes, that love was suffocating, and heavy, and everything a person wished they could escape from because there was no growth when people were holding you too tight.
Lucia Marcello liked to call that a double-edged sword. Maybe it was because she was the baby, but she was on the receiving end of that love a hell of a lot more than any of her other siblings when it came to her parents. Like they were scared to let her fly, and so they were just going to keep holding onto her until she broke free on her own.
She thought … maybe it was time to do just that.
“Principessa,” Lucian said, placing a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head.
“Hey, Daddy,” Lucia greeted.
She went back to the binder of information that she needed to study. Apparently, volunteering for a women’s and children’s shelter for the summer wasn’t as easy as simply signing up for the job. Lucia had policies to memorize, schedules, and a bunch more.
It was worth it. She wanted to help.
“Where is your mother?”
“Reading in her room.”
Lucian pulled out a chair at the table and sat down beside Lucia. “I was thinking …”
Sighing, Lucia closed her binder and gave her father the attention he wanted. Lucia, being the youngest child of four siblings, had always been the baby. Her parents seemed to think she needed more attention and care than her older siblings simply because there was such a difference in age. Maybe they figured she felt left out. Lucia never had.
Being the family baby at only seventeen, almost eighteen, meant being babied like one. She needed some breathing room, some time away from her family and room to grow. She knew they didn’t understand, and that they would be hurt by her wanting to leave, so she chose her actions in quieter ways. Like volunteering at a woman’s shelter for the summer.
With her father’s past, she knew Lucian wouldn’t put the brakes on Lucia spending eight hours a day, five days a week at a shelter to help. He was more likely to donate a bunch of money, which he already did, and buy her a car to get to and from the location every day. She wanted to volunteer, too, but it was a small step away from her family and their smothering.
“Thinking what?” she asked her father.
“About college in the fall,” Lucian answered. “Couldn’t you pick Columbia instead of a college out of state? It’s a great school, Lucia, and it has all the programs you want for social development.”
Lucia dropped her father’s gaze. If he could see her eyes, he could see her lies. “But I fell in love with that campus when we visited.”
Lucian made a sad noise under his breath. “I know, bella ragazza.”
“I’ll come back, Dad. Holidays, vacation, and some weekends.”
“You’re not making it better, Lucia.”
She smiled. “I’m sorry.”
“I worry about you being alone.”
“Don’t. I’m an adult. I can handle college.”
“Graduating high school and being almost eighteen does not make you an adult, Lucia.”
“But—”
“
I’m sorry, sweetheart, I can’t help but worry. I know you want to grow up, but I’m not sure we’re ready for you to.”
Lucia dropped her hands to the table with a smack and stood from her seat quickly. “That’s the whole problem.”
Lucian glanced up at her with surprise deepening the lines in his face. “I don’t understand.”
“You’re not ready to let me go. You’re not ready for me to grow up. You, Dad, not me.”
“Oh.”
Lucia picked up the binder off the table and said, “I’m choosing the college out of state, not Columbia. It’s already been settled, tuition and first year is paid, plus I was accepted months ago. I have the grades for it, and I want to do this. Let me do it.”
Lucian dropped his head. “Okay.”
Lucia was surprised her father had dropped it that easily. It wasn’t like Lucian at all. Lucia knew exactly where she had gotten her stubbornness and fight from—her father. The man had given her far more than just his namesake when she was brought into the world as her mother and father’s unexpected surprise later in life.
Guilt chewed Lucia up inside.
“I’ll be back, Daddy,” she said softly.
“We have the summer, right?” her father asked.
Well, she did. Her father was a different story. As a Marcello principessa, Lucia knew what her father and the rest of the men in her family were involved with. She wasn’t blind or dumb. She had witnessed more than enough things over the years to know her family might as well be royalty in the world of organized crime. Her father and two uncles held three of the highest seats in the family. Even her brother was mixed up in it all. Thankfully, it kept her father busy. She had the summer off, but Lucian probably didn’t. His job was non-stop.
“Sort of, yes. I have this volunteering thing, too.”
“I’m proud that you took this on,” Lucian said, reaching out to tap the binder. “I’ve always tried to donate to the shelters and organizations for women and children, but it makes me extremely proud that you’ve taken the extra step to do this.”
The guilt flooded Lucia again. She’d done it because she needed the break from her family, and the fact it would look good on a résumé. She also did it for the experience. Lucia came from a ridiculously wealthy family. Her father might have lived some of his early years on the streets, forging for food and trying to survive, but she never had. She never worried about one single thing. Nothing was out of reach if she asked her mother and father for it.
Lucia wondered if she needed a wake-up call from real life.
Maybe this job would do that.
“I think you’ll get something amazing from it,” Lucian added when Lucia stayed quiet.
“I hope so,” she responded.
Standing from the table, her father drew her in for a tight hug that said he still wasn’t quite ready to let Lucia out of his sights. She let him hold on until he was ready to let go, because all too soon, her father wouldn’t have a choice but to let her go.
Lucian was a good father—a great one, actually. But for once, Lucia simply wanted to step out of her family’s shadow and be her own person. She didn’t think her dad would understand.
Would he?
“I love you, Lucia,” her father murmured. “You always were the easy one out of the four. I never had to worry about you getting in to some kind of trouble, or causing us any heartache. My good girl, huh?”
She had always been the good girl.
Lucia didn’t know anything else.
Lucia sighed. “Yeah.”
“Hmm, what was that?”
“I love you, too, Papà.”
Releasing her from his hug, Lucian said, “I should go find your mother. I have news she’ll want to hear.”
“Oh?”
Lucian smiled widely. “Retirement is coming early for me. Your mother has been pestering me for years to do this, and I finally have. It feels good. She will be pissed off like nothing else if I don’t tell her right away.”
Retirement.
Lucia didn’t know what to say.
“So, no more … famiglia?” Lucia asked, choosing her words carefully. Outright asking about the mafia or her father’s involvement would likely get her nowhere. “None at all?”
Lucian shrugged, still happy. “Mostly, no.”
• • •
Lucia poked her head into the state of the art kitchen and found the chef working behind a large stove. The man blinked a couple of times before he finally recognized her.
“Lucia?”
She nodded. “Hi. Is my cousin around?”
“Andino is in his office. I can let Skip know you’re here, if you want.”
“That would be great, thanks.”
“Go find a table. Do you want something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Sure,” the chef said. “Go, I’ll let your cousin know you’re here to see him.”
Lucia wasn’t surprised that the man was confused at her presence. It wasn’t often that Lucia went to Andino’s main restaurant in the city because her cousin was known to use the place for the more illegal side of his business. Like the mafia. More than once, Lucian had told his daughter to steer clear.
Quickly, she found a quiet table toward the back and slid into a chair. Resting her bag in the chair beside her, she waited for Andino to come out from the back. It didn’t take him long. Her cousin strolled across the restaurant floor, waving at a couple of patrons as he passed, and then joined Lucia at the table.
“Hey, kid,” Andino said, smiling.
Lucia forced herself not to roll her eyes. “Hey.”
“Didn’t your daddy tell you to stay away from this place?”
“So?”
Andino chuckled. “You should follow the rules, Lucia.”
“I wanted to find out something, and I was in the neighborhood.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” she confirmed.
Andino leaned back in the chair and fixed the buttons on his suit jacket as he asked, “Well, what do you need?”
“Where’s Johnathan?”
Lucia had only seen her oldest sibling once since his release from prison. John was her only brother, but besides that, he was also the only person who truly understood Lucia and how suffocating their parents could be. For John, she knew it was an entirely different reason. But honestly, Lucia just needed a break, and John seemed like the right person to go to for it.
“Working today. Why?” Andino asked.
“I want to talk to him.”
Her cousin lifted a single brow. “He’s working, which means you probably shouldn’t be around him, Lucia. I know how your father would feel to find out you were slumming it up with John while he was doing business.”
Frustrated, Lucia grabbed her bag and stood. “Thanks for nothing.”
“Hey, hey.” Andino stood from the table, reaching out to grab Lucia’s wrist.
“What?” she asked, snappier than she intended.
“What is up with you?” he asked.
“I want to see my brother. He doesn’t answer my phone calls, and he never comes around to the house, so I can talk to him there. I figured coming to see you would probably point me in the right direction. I’m not surprised it didn’t. All this family does is take care of business first, right?”
Andino’s gaze flicked away. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m sorry, Andi. I know I’m not allowed to be hanging around here. I shouldn’t have come.”
“It’s fine, kid. Just keep quiet to your dad, huh?”
Lucia nodded. “I will.”
“Where are you going after this?”
“I was going to go sit with Grandpapa while Grandmama ran some errands.”
Cecelia, her grandmother, always felt uncomfortable leaving her husband home alone when she left the house, for whatever reason. Lucia didn’t mind sitting with her grandfather. Then, he had someone watching him and someone to talk to. An
tony, her grandfather, never minded.
Andino nodded. “All right. I’ll give John a call. Let him know where you’re going to be.”
Lucia’s anger ebbed away. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
• • •
“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Cecelia asked.
“We’ll be perfect,” Lucia told her grandmother. “I’m sure he’ll get in to his usual trouble.”
Cecelia laughed, the lines around her eyes deepening in her joy. “Okay.”
“Don’t worry, Grandmama.”
“He’s been tired a lot lately,” Cecelia explained quietly. “I can’t help but worry.”
Lucia frowned, saddened over her grandmother’s concerns for her husband’s health. Antony Marcello always seemed to be the strongest, most formidable person in their family, but truth be told, he wasn’t getting any younger. A sharp tongue and a strong soul did not make for a healthy body.
“Just go do your stuff,” Lucia said. “He’ll be okay with me. I’ll put on his music, and he’ll be happy.”
Cecelia smiled. “Okay. Thank you for coming today.”
“I’ll always come, Grandmama.”
Her grandmother’s hand patted her cheek gently. The leathery feel of Cecelia’s palm reminded Lucia that her grandmother wasn’t a young woman, either.
“Our good girl, huh?”
Lucia batted her grandmother’s hand away lightly. “Go. You’re wasting time.”
“Going, going.”
Lucia closed the front door to the large Marcello mansion the moment her grandmother stepped out into the marble entrance. Making her way back through the house, she found her grandfather sitting in the living room in his leather recliner with his feet up, a glass of water beside him, and a remote in his hand as he flicked through the television channels.
“Did she pester you about me again?” Antony asked, his voice raspy with age.
Lucia laughed. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“I only look old, Lucia. I may feel it at times, too, but my mind is the same as it was when I was twenty-five. Sharp, quick, and too smart for everyone else.”
