Privilege (Renzo + Lucia Book 1)

by Bethany-Kris

  “I imagine a lot of things,” Renzo replied. “And probably nothing that I’m very interested in hearing.”

  Diesel laughed. “Right, I bet. Anyway, we heard you got dropped off last night with Diego. Quite a fucking car, we were told. A Mercedes, right? Who are you messing with that they’re driving you home in a Mercedes?”

  Fuck.

  Not the kind of attention he needed. It would not do him any favors for these guys to think he was reaching higher than they could. He didn’t need to be seen as out of their league in any regard. It would make discontent, and he couldn’t fucking trust or control any of them when they thought he was hiding shit like money.

  Renzo glanced up, and gave the three a look they would recognize as him reaching the end of his very thin and frayed rope. “Get to fucking work, and stop listening to the nonsense you hear on the streets.”

  FIVE

  “Just make a choice, Lucian,” Jordyn said. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”

  “Well, it is, bella.”

  Lucia was drawn from her mind at her parents’ voices filtering through her thoughts. In the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, she watched familiar streets pass them by from the safety of the vehicle. It was the smell of new leather that she liked the most in a car. Considering the Rolls had been a gift to her mother for their last anniversary from her father, the car still had that smell. Usually, it would comfort Lucia, but right then, it wasn’t doing that at all.

  “You liked the one in the Maldives,” Jordyn pointed out.

  Her father grunted under his breath. “Chicago has business down there, though.”

  “Holy fu—”

  “On our way to church, Jordyn. Try not to swear.”

  Lucia glanced at her mother who was currently sitting in the passenger seat—despite it being her car, she liked being driven around more than she drove—who gave Lucian a look that would burn a lesser man.

  “Get over the Chicago thing,” Jordyn muttered. “That’s all I am saying.”

  “I am over the Chicago thing. I let Liliana get married to that Rossi kid, didn’t I?”

  “You’re calling him a kid, really?”

  “Well—”

  “And let her, Lucian. Let her, though.”

  Her father sighed loudly. “It’s not about Chicago, but the fact they have business there. I don’t want it to seem like us buying that vacation home would be … us trying to step on their toes in some way.”

  “Well, I liked the home in the Maldives. Far more than the other ones we looked at. And it’s over the water, Lucian. I want the Maldives home. Call Tommas—”

  Her father let out another one of those grunts. He only did that when he wasn’t pleased about something. Lucia might typically find an exchange like this between her parents amusing. But right then, she was just thinking about someone and something else.

  “Make that sound to me one more time, Lucian,” Jordyn warned. “Call Tommas in Chicago, let him know we’re looking at a home to buy in the Maldives, and it has nothing to do with business. Simple.”

  “Yes, everything about the mafia is exactly that simple, Jordyn.”

  Lucia had absolutely no reason to open her mouth and join their conversation. It wasn’t like her parents had invited her to do that, or anything. They also hadn’t said she couldn’t join in, either. She was seventeen, not five. If they didn’t want her to hear their conversations, they wouldn’t be having them with her within earshot.

  “How many homes do we have?” Lucia asked.

  She watched her father’s gaze shoot to the rearview mirror, so he could get her in his sights. Her mother, on the other hand, never even looked away from the passenger’s window as she said, “A few.”

  “But how many is a few?”

  Lucian hummed under his breath. “That depends on what you want to know, Tesoro. Just vacation homes, or … properties as a whole.”

  Lucia blinked.

  “Is there a big difference?”

  “Big difference,” her mother said.

  Huh.

  “We have three vacation homes in Europe—one in England, another in Italy with an attached vineyard, and a smaller penthouse in Paris. We also have a large cabin in Canada. They call it a cabin, mind you, but that is only because it is made out of logs and not because it sits on a hundred acres of private property, and has three floors.”

  “There’s also the one in Maine,” Lucia said.

  She remembered that one because she’d visited it more than once as a young girl.

  Jordyn nodded, and shot her daughter a look over her shoulder. “We bought that to have somewhere to stay when I visited my biological father, but after he passed, we rented it out and have not been back.”

  “One in Vegas, too,” Lucian put in after a moment.

  Like it was nothing at all.

  Like they hadn’t just admitted to having six fucking vacation homes, and were considering buying a seventh.

  What kind of a waste of money was that? Sure, she knew her family was well-off. They were beyond the simple title of rich. The Marcellos were vastly wealthy. But sometimes, it didn’t always look that way from the outside when they simply lived in beautiful homes tucked away in normal suburbs with luxury cars in the driveway.

  It was what people didn’t know and couldn’t see where the Marcellos hid their wealth.

  “Do you even visit them all every year?” she asked.

  Lucia was pretty sure she knew the answer to that question. Her parents went on the occasional vacation, and she typically went with them.

  So no, no they did not visit all their many homes.

  “We try to visit a different one each year, if they’re not rented out to someone else,” her father said. “They are good investments, which in turn, means a good profit in the future. That’s why they were purchased and added to our portfolio. Maybe with all you kids out of the house, we will be able to visit more than one a year.”

  He’d offered that with a joking tone, but Lucia was still feeling heavier than normal in her chest. Even her shoulders seemed to slump a bit. Her parents went back to discussing the Maldives vacation home like she hadn’t even been talking to begin with. But right then, she didn’t mind.

  She had other things to think about.

  It was no wonder why Renzo—she’d learned a day after seeing him at the daycare from the shelter’s manager that his surname was Zulla—had looked at Lucia like she was something from another world. And not necessarily a world he wanted to know or visit, either.

  She’d dropped him off at his place that night, and found herself concerned by the people loitering near the front of the worn down building. Mostly because they hadn’t exactly looked friendly, and she was concerned they might cause Renzo problems since he had a four-year-old in his arms.

  Yes, she’d noticed the fact there was nowhere for Diego to play but a parking lot. Yes, she noticed the shape of the building. And yes, it made her take a second look.

  She hadn’t meant to offend him, but that’s what his scoff and hard slam of the car door said she did. But maybe she understood now … he looked at her and saw things he did not have, and things he would never be.

  Or that’s what he thought.

  Lucia was lost in those thoughts of hers until her father finally pulled the Rolls into the parking lot of a familiar church. Every Sunday, never failed, this was where Lucia was supposed to be. Her father stepped out of the car first after parking to head for the passenger side and open the door for her mother.

  Her mother, though, took that time to turn in her seat a bit to look at Lucia with a curious expression. “Are you okay? You seemed upset earlier … but then quiet.”

  No, not really.

  Lucia decided to lie, anyway. “I’m fine, Ma.”

  • • •

  “Lucia, you saw the schedule change, didn’t you?”

  Lucia’s head popped up over the counter where she was currently working to pull out dishes that would be nee
ded for the morning rush at the shelter. She had learned, since she started work there a few days earlier, that thanks to donations of food and money, they were able to serve an average of a hundred people per mealtime. It was more than the shelter housed, so it was the only time that the doors were opened for anyone who needed fed off the streets.

  She’d figured that the kitchen would probably be her least favorite place to work in the shelter. She didn’t do well in chaotic situations—that wasn’t where she did her best work, frankly. Yet, she found the kitchen and serving food to be one of her favorite parts. Maybe it was because each face had a new story to tell, and they were always kind and grateful just to be there. Plus, they liked having someone to talk to.

  Lucia liked listening.

  She was good at that.

  It always seemed like everyone working the kitchen made it a point to have fun, too. Music was always filtering over the chatter of people and the clattering of dishes. It didn’t matter if you were in the back scrubbing out pots, or at the front on the serving line … someone would make you smile and laugh.

  “Did you see it?” Laurie asked again.

  “Um, no,” Lucia admitted. “I just came right back here to get started and didn’t double check. Sorry.”

  Laurie smiled as Lucia set another pile of plates on the metal counter. “Yeah, I don’t blame you. I never get to work in the kitchen as much as I want to anymore. It’s still my favorite place to be, but now I get to push all the papers and make sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to be doing. Like you.”

  Laughing, Lucia wiped her hands across the apron. “Where am I supposed to be, then, and could I maybe convince you to let me stay here instead?”

  The woman had the decency to pretend she was considering Lucia’s request before she fake frowned, and shrugged. “Sorry, can’t do it. They really need an extra adult in the daycare today since it’s at capacity, and you know how it can get in there. Besides, you’re great with the kids and most of them who are regulars already know your name. I am sure they would be super excited to see you walk through the doors.”

  Well …

  Lucia nodded. “All right.”

  Laurie laughed. “Yeah, I didn’t figure you’d have a problem with switching.”

  Not really.

  The daycare was Lucia’s second favorite place to work in the shelter. She did enjoy the kids a lot, and it was another place that was all about fun, and it kept her moving from one thing to another. She enjoyed being busy. Time passed faster, and she got to feel like for a few hours, she was making an impact for someone else.

  With those kids, she wasn’t Lucia, the mafia principessa. She wasn’t some rich girl who people looked at and figured she was just there to get a good mark on her portfolio for volunteering before she headed out to college in California to start the second semester.

  She was just Lucia.

  Lucia found that she wanted to just be herself here a lot more than she wanted to be the thing people saw her as when she walked in the doors.

  “Okay, hurry over to the other side of the shelter, and get in there to help,” Laurie said, turning to head back to whatever she was doing for the morning.

  “Aww, Lucia’s leaving!”

  The echo came out from the kitchen behind Lucia, traveling over the noise of the latest song on the radio and the laughter from the joke someone had just told.

  Lucia laughed as a half of a dozen voices echoed the same sentiment as she shrugged off her apron, and pulled the gloves from her hands.

  “Bye, Lucia!”

  Yeah, she enjoyed the daycare.

  The kitchen was still her favorite, though.

  • • •

  “Will you be here tomorrow?” little Rowen asked, her big brown eyes and corkscrew curls bobbing in her excitement as she stared up at Lucia. The girl’s mother apparently had a shift change this week, and so, she needed someone to look after her while she did her morning hours. The daycare it was. “I hope so.”

  Lucia smiled as she bent down to help the girl slip her pink, sparkly backpack on. “I’m pretty sure I’m in here working tomorrow, too.”

  “Awesome!”

  Rowen’s exclamation was punctuated with a tiny fist pumping into the air. The girl’s mother smiled at the doorway, and as soon as she called out her daughter’s name, Rowen gave a little wave before heading off.

  Lucia checked her watch to find it was time for her lunch break. The thirty minutes wasn’t much, but it allowed her to grab something from the kitchen, and relax for a few seconds. After letting one of the other supervisors know she was taking her break, she headed out of the loud and busy daycare.

  “Loud down there today, isn’t it?”

  Lucia popped her head into Laurie’s office because she figured it would be rude to just agree and pass on by. “It is, but they’re having a great time. Finger painting today, so messy.”

  The woman never took her gaze away from the paperwork on her desk. From what she understood, Laurie had started this shelter out of her home a decade or more ago. It had since grown into the amazing organization it now was. The woman was always the last one to leave, and the first one to arrive.

  This place would never fail with Laurie running it. Not to mention, Laurie was a motivator for everyone around her, including Lucia. Focused, driven, and always wanting to help. The woman never asked for something from someone else. She simply went out, and got whatever it was that she needed for her shelter, or whatever the case may be.

  “I was meaning to ask you something,” Lucia hedged.

  It had been on her mind for a few days, but she’d swallowed down her questions thinking that Laurie likely wouldn’t tell her anything—if she even did know something—or the woman wouldn’t have anything to say.

  “What’s that?”

  “I noticed Diego Zulla hasn’t been around in a few days. He was here the day after I first started, but not since. Is that … usual for him?”

  Really, she was trying to find out where the boy and his brother were at the moment. With every day that passed where Lucia didn’t see Diego show up at the shelter’s daycare, the more concerned she became.

  For him, and Renzo.

  Plus, Lucia was worried that maybe their awkward interaction that night in her car caused Renzo to avoid the daycare altogether. She hadn’t meant to make him feel badly about his situation. He, like everyone else in this damn world, was doing the best they could given what he had.

  No one could expect anything more.

  Laurie finally glanced up from the paperwork in front of her with a soft gaze. “It is a little unusual for him to go this long without attending the daycare, but that’s not my business, and it isn’t your business, either. That’s important to remember here, Lucia. There is only so much you can do, and becoming too involved with one person in particular can cause a problem. I hope you understand.”

  Sure, she did.

  That didn’t mean she was going to listen to the advice, or heed it, for that matter. If Renzo was avoiding the daycare because of her, then she was going to let him know that was pointless, and it only really hurt Diego in the end.

  She knew where he lived. She could go right over there and let him know that as soon as she was done with her shift.

  She certainly wasn’t going there just because she wanted to see Renzo again.

  No …

  It wasn’t that at all.

  • • •

  Lucia wasn’t sure which thing bothered her more. The fact that the guys loitering on the steps of Renzo’s apartment building were leering at her car like they wanted to get their hands on it, or that their attention instantly switched to her the second she stepped out of the car.

  Jesus.

  “Well, look at that. Damn.”

  One of them even whistled.

  Lucia was quite aware that she was pretty. She took after her mother with her soft features that were made even more dainty by the fact she was sprite-like
in size. She also learned how to wield a makeup brush and hair tools from the time she was little because her two older sisters, Liliana and Cella, thought that was an important skill for her to learn.

  That didn’t mean she enjoyed being leered at like a piece of meat walking down the sidewalk. She was pretty sure no woman enjoyed that feeling.

  “Bit of a step down for a chick like you around here, ain’t it?” someone else called.

  Lucia clenched her jaw, and tightened the coat around her waist as she headed for the steps of the apartment building. The guys’ comments only picked up more the closer she came, but she just tuned them out until she was standing right in front of them.

  “I’m looking for someone,” she said.

  The guy in the middle with the longer hair and beady blue eyes sneered. “You’re in the wrong place then, girly.”

  Girly.

  Lucia couldn’t even try to not be offended at that statement. “First, don’t call me that. Second, I know Renzo Zulla lives here. That’s who I’m looking for. I need an apartment number, if that’s not too much to ask.”

  Looks passed between the three guys, but the one in the middle was the only one who seemed to want to do any talking for the time being. Lucia didn’t really give a shit who talked, as long as someone did, and they gave her the right apartment number. The less time she had to spend outside with them, the better.

  “Since when does Ren hang out with someone like you?”

  Lucia lifted a single brow. “What does someone like me even mean?”

  “How much does your car cost?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll ask my father, and let you know the next time I come around. If you’re done making comments about my money, an apartment number would be great.”

  The guy scoffed under his breath, and glanced away from Lucia like she wasn’t worth looking at anymore. He could try to save his pride all he wanted. She didn’t care as long as she got the apartment number.

  “Floor three, apartment five,” the guy muttered. “Don’t chip a fucking nail on your way up there, princess.”