by Bethany-Kris
FOREVER
THE COMPANION
RENZO + LUCIA
BOOK 4
BETHANY-KRIS
DEDICATION
For all my loves.
CONTENTS
FOREVER
DEDICATION
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS
Copyright
ONE
“You’re not listening to me.”
“No,” Lucia replied, “you’re not listening to me. And that’s the far bigger problem here considering I’m the only gallery in this city that offered to show your work.”
Most days, Lucia loved her job as an art gallery owner and curator. Then, she had days like today where she wondered why in the hell she chose this career path at all.
Well, that was partly a lie.
She didn’t really wonder.
Lucia chose a career in the art world because art was the only thing she found passion in when it came to work. It was the one thing she knew she would be able to do for the rest of her life and never become bored. She found art in everything. She looked for it everywhere. She might not be the artist who created things, but she was the person who loved the final product and appreciated it the very most.
Still, though, she had times when she wondered why she chose this career, even if she knew every reason. Today was, unfortunately, one of those days.
“Listen, there’s no reason why—”
“There are several reasons why I won’t meet your demands for this gallery showing,” Lucia said. “And if you want, I will repeat them to you, Mr. Tremblay.”
“Listen, Luc—”
“Mrs. Zulla.”
She almost smiled at the way the man stiffened a bit, standing a little straighter in front of her. And not even because of him, but simply because she liked the way that name came out of her mouth. Years after marrying Renzo, here she was at twenty-nine, and damn … she still loved saying her surname, the one he’d given her.
It was something he’d waffled on. A part of him hadn’t wanted her taking the name because of what he’d seen as a stain that covered it. A legacy that wasn’t hers to carry; a burden only he should carry alone. Someone had thought to suggest maybe he take her surname, and Lucia would have been just fine with that, too.
Instead, she’d fought for his name.
Who he was.
Renzo Zulla.
That’s who she’d met him as all those years ago. That’s the man she knew, the one she’d fallen in love with, and the same one who’d proven time and time again that he was absolutely worthy of her the same way she was destined for him. So yeah, she’d taken his name and she wore it with pride. She hoped he did, now, too.
At least, he seemed to.
Leaning back in the white leather office chair that rested behind her glass desk, Lucia waited for a response from the other person in the room. The man—who’d thought coming a couple of feet inside her office while he barked at her about what he wanted for his upcoming showing, in her gallery, would get him what he wanted—fumed. Some men were like that—didn’t appreciate a woman in any position of power, and certainly not one that was above them. In Lucia’s business as the owner and director of an art gallery that she’d taken over from her aunt, Kim, a couple of years back, well … it could be even more prevalent.
Plus, art was all about passion.
Artists were passionate.
They had a vision.
She got that.
Understood it perfectly fine.
Unfortunately, the vision of the artist didn’t always translate to success. And that’s where she came into play. All those art degrees she’d worked for, and the business one added on top just for good measure, well, that shit wasn’t just for decoration. She understood what would make art sell in this market. She knew how to put an artist’s work on display, and make their name and brand stand out, without them even needing to be in the same room to do it.
“I just think that we should do it my way, considering it’s my art,” Mason said, trying to soften his stance a bit. Maybe so he didn’t look as … arrogant standing there. Who was she to say? It was too little, too late for her, though, because Lucia saw right through it. “And that is the point of this showing, right? To show off my art?”
“No, actually.”
“Pardon?”
Lucia smiled. “The point of the showing is to sell your art. And if you think having my clientele walk through this place, after it has been turned into some trash heap because it’ll go with the theme, as you say, then you came to the wrong place to get this done. So, what do you want to do? Sell your art and make money so that someday you can put your entire vision on display the way you want to, or cut your contract with me and go your way? By all means, I will let you make the choice and won’t say a word about it otherwise.”
It took the man a second.
Then, two.
“I guess, I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
“You do—I just gave you two.”
Take it or leave it, buddy, she thought.
Lucia understood the man’s plight, but he’d gone about this entirely wrong. Had he genuinely been concerned about his vision coming to life as much as possible, then he could have asked her if there was something more they could do to the gallery for the upcoming showing. Instead, he’d marched into her office, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed and smelling like he’d spent the night in a bar, with demands as though she were going to fold just because he’d said so.
Hard pass.
Lucia had better things to do.
And money to make.
She loved art.
No doubt about it.
Her respect for art and this business went beyond the pale—she lived for it. Thing was, the only way she could continue to do that was if she made enough money to make it possible. The same thing went for the artists making the art.
They needed money.
Simple as that.
The phone on her desk rang just as Mason looked like he might open his mouth and say something else. If this were another day, one where she had more patience and had spent the night in bed with Renzo, she might have given him the chance to talk. Instead, she waved her hand at the door behind with him with a sharp, “Anything else, take it to my assistant, okay?”
He huffed.
She smiled again.
Once she was alone in her office, she picked up the ringing phone. “Lucia here.”
“Dolcezza.”
That time, her smile was real.
Entirely true.
“Daddy,” she greeted, turning her chair away from the desk a bit to stare out the window of her office, where she could enjoy the sight of a bright sky overhead. “What are you up to this afternoon?”
“Coming to see if you might like to clear some time off that very busy schedule of yours, actually.”
“Excuse me?”
“You never take a break. I am in the city to do some last-minute business before your mother and I take our trip to Bali … and I know Renzo is coming home from Vegas this week sometime, isn’t he?”
Yes.
God, she couldn’t wait.
She didn’t have a clue what job Renzo had been on, but it’d taken him away for almost three weeks. It was un
usual for him to be allowed to take his phone and call her when he was on a job, so instead, she was stuck waiting for that call which said he was back in the country. Finally, she’d gotten that today.
He’d be home soon.
“He is, yes,” she replied.
“So, you’ll be tied up with him for a while, won’t you? Which means I probably won’t get to see you until we get back from our trip.”
Her father knew her so well.
A lot like the rest of her family.
“Very possibly,” she replied.
“Then, I think you could at least let me take you to lunch before he hides you away.”
She had more than enough reasons to say no. Owning her own gallery meant the work never stopped. If it wasn’t one thing, then it was another. She also now needed to brief her assistant on the artist who seemed determined to toe every line and work her very last nerve. The less she had to deal with him after today, the better it would be. She had a lot to do, and she really couldn’t afford to cancel her next two meetings to have lunch with her dad when she already planned to just take it in her office that day.
But …
At the same time, she loved her dad.
Missed him, too.
Sometimes, they didn’t get enough time together. He never said anything about it one way or another. And she tried not to point it out, either. She never missed a chance to spend her day with her dad.
“How long before you get here?” she asked.
Lucian chuckled. “I am outside with a car running.”
Of course, he was.
Lucian knew her well.
“I will be out in two minutes.”
“Perfetto, mia cara.”
TWO
“Zulla!”
Renzo spun on his heels at the familiar voice calling his name from behind him as he headed through the lower halls of The League. Alessio, a high-ranking member of The League and independent assassin, like Ren, stuck his head out of the knife room. On another day, he might have stopped to have a conversation with the man—he even noticed him when he passed the room—but today, he had other things on his mind.
Better things, really.
No offense to Les.
Alessio arched a brow at the sight of Ren, who was still walking backward and not even stopping at the call of his name.
“Too busy to have a conversation with me or what?”
Renzo laughed, entirely unbothered and knowing Alessio wouldn’t be offended. The last few years of Les’s life had been kind to him, maybe even softened the guy’s fast attitude in a way. Renzo figured settling down and having a couple of kids could do that for a person. “Nah, I uh—”
“Oh, wait, you were on the Bosnia job, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, just got back in. The rest of the team is getting in on the next flight coming in. I took the only opening they had on a flight before theirs.”
“Right,” Alessio said, rocking back on his heels. “The wife is waiting for you. I get it.”
He bet.
Shit, Alessio had two spouses to get back to.
“We’ll chat another time, then, yeah?” the guy asked.
Ren nodded. “You know it. Later.”
Alessio slipped back into the room he’d come out of and Renzo spun around on his heels, heading deeper into the complex. He walked familiar halls, took the stairs a couple of levels higher, and met up with a few more familiar faces along the way. Of course, none of that stopped him longer than a quick hello before he continued on his way. It didn’t take long for him to make it to the office upstairs that Dare rarely left when inside the compound. After arriving back from any job, each member who was independent for The League was required to debrief. It didn’t matter if they all had the exact same thing to say.
Policy and all that shit.
You know, if breaking policy meant losing your life and all.
“Renzo,” Dare greeted just as Renzo came to stand beyond the entrance of the man’s office. The door forever seemed to be open, although Renzo never truly understood why. It seemed dangerous, in a way, but maybe it proved just how much of a danger the man who owned the office was. That, and Dare had access to every single camera within The League’s complex. He knew each and every person who came inside, and exactly where they were while within the walls of the place. “Good to see you in one piece, after that one—your phone is on the table. Your wife has been sent a message letting her know you’re back in the country.”
“Perfect.”
“Go ahead and let me know the specifics so you can head out.”
A lot of shit had changed at The League for Renzo over the years. He wasn’t sure if it was his seniority at the place, despite the fact that he sometimes wondered if he made the right choice in staying as a member. Or was it just the respect that he’d earned over time doing what he did here? But things were different. There was a mutual appreciation all around the board for the people he’d found and had here and he liked that just fine. Part of it, he knew, revolved around the fact that even though Renzo no longer had to be here working, he still was.
Renzo did as Dare requested and briefed the man on the Bosnia job, which had taken three days longer than he’d expected it would. That little time delay had been based on factors that were entirely out of The League’s hands because of circumstances. None of which would cause a problem for them. What mattered was that the job was finished successfully. Still, everything had been standard, and the client who’d hired the team would be happy to know that he’d blown open that safe without causing more than a million in damages.
Which meant more money.
While he spoke, he headed deeper into the office and picked up his waiting—entirely charged—cell phone from the table in the middle. Dare said nothing as he continued to talk while scrolling through the phone to all the text messages—three hundred missed ones, in fact. Mostly from Lucia, and a few from Diego and his sister, likely.
But most came from her.
Lucia.
He smiled, pulling up her thread of messages to go through a few at the very bottom. As she always did, whether he was out of the country or just spending the night at Rose’s after being out with Diego for a day, she updated him throughout the day about what was happening or what she was doing with messages.
A good morning, love you when the sun rose for her, and a night, babe, fucking miss you when she laid her head down on a pillow at night.
But especially when he was out of the country, she tended to do it more. It gave him something to look forward to when coming home. He’d sit through her talking about all that he’d missed while he was gone, too.
“And that’s all?” Dare asked.
Renzo glanced up from his phone, coming back into the conversation he hadn’t really left but wasn’t one-hundred percent engaged in. Now that he was back in America, he had too many other important things on his mind.
The job was done.
Successful.
Nothing else mattered but getting home to Lucia.
Like he always promised to.
Forever.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he said.
Dare nodded, never turning away from the screen covering one entire wall where he watched a sports game. With a wave over his shoulder, he said, “I will be in touch, Ren, look for the final deposit into your accounts.”
“Will do.”
He was halfway out of the office, and ready to call Lucia and hear her voice for the first time in weeks, when the phone in his hand buzzed with a call. The ringtone that accompanied it had him grinning even though it wasn’t his wife calling.
“Diego,” Ren greeted, picking up the call, “I just got back, kiddo.”
“Ah, Ren, don’t call me that.”
He laughed it off, as he always did. Yeah, Diego acted like he didn’t like it when his big brother teased him a bit, but Ren knew that in truth, he did. He was the only person Diego had that type of relationship with. Serious but
fun. He really was the only father the kid knew, even if they were really half-brothers. Diego got both in him.
Someone to be his father when he needed it.
And the big brother he wanted even more.
“Are you back in New York?” Diego asked.
Damn, he wished.
“No, just got back to Vegas, but I am on my—”
“Rose said I can come over, so …”
Ren chuckled. “Buddy, I just got back. I haven’t even been home to see Lucia yet, you know?”
“So, when you get back in town, I can come over, right?”
Lord.
He couldn’t tell this kid no. Even if he just wanted to spend one night alone with his wife before he got back to his real life, that likely wouldn’t happen.
Not that he wanted to tell Diego no, anyway, because he missed his little brother, too. Because for as much as Diego needed his brother, Renzo needed the kid. He was never going to be separated or taken from his brother again.
“You know what? Yeah,” Renzo said. “Absolutely, Diego. We’ll work it out, okay?”
“Okay, Ren.”
He hung up from his brother shortly after and immediately tried to call his wife. The damn thing rang through to voicemail twice.
Shit.
Sometimes, she turned it off when she was with clients. He decided whatever. After all, it’d been a while since he’d surprised her. So, why not?
THREE
“Thanks,” Lucia told the cab driver.
He handed her card back over with a nod. “Have a good evening, ma’am.”
“You, too.”
Stepping out of the vehicle into the quiet Brooklyn street, Lucia didn’t take much time to admire the sight of her home or the relief at the fact she was finally here after a very long day. Instead, she headed past the gate that led up to the brownstone’s steps, already pulling out her keys and readying to unlock the door.
She didn’t need the keys, though.
The door was unlocked.
That might have made her pause, but when she pushed open the door, the thing she hadn’t been expecting to greet her was the noise. Well, it didn’t so much greet her as it just filled the space entirely.
