by Bethany-Kris
“I don’t, sorry.”
She nodded.
Not surprised.
“I went home every day to a home that would comfortably fit five of those families. To parents who have more money in their bank accounts than most of those people will ever see in their lifetimes. I came home to people who never neglected or abused me, or left me to fend for myself.”
Sighing, she added, “I slept in Egyptian cotton—some of them are lucky if they have cardboard to make the ground softer. I know where each meal of mine is coming from. I can drop five thousand on a pair of shoes, and it won’t even make a dent in my trust fund. I can go to any college I want because my surname affords me that—I didn’t even need the fucking grades for it. Hell, my father was able to get me in for the second semester in California despite their classes being full just because he had enough money to get me on the list.”
“Lucia—”
“And I had the privilege of meeting Renzo,” Lucia continued, ignoring her uncle altogether. “And it is a privilege, Uncle Gio, because despite everything I was seeing at the shelter, I still felt removed from it because I didn’t have to deal with those things at home. He made it real, and he taught me to look beyond what you see on the surface. There is more to people than their money, status, or lack of it. He’s someone who isn’t like me at all, and doesn’t care about my life because he’s too busy trying to survive in his own. But yeah, you go ahead and tell me about how I forgot where I came from. I can’t fucking forget.”
How could she?
“I can’t forget,” Lucia repeated, “because my reality will never be his, and we both know it. So fuck you, and Daddy, and anyone else who wants to tell me what I forgot.”
Yeah.
Fuck all of them.
“Lucia.”
“What?”
She wished she wasn’t one of those people who cried when they got mad, but here she was. It made her look weak, like she was ruled by emotions, when all she wanted to do was just fade away. Using the back of her hand, she swiped away the tears but refused to meet her uncle’s gaze in the rearview mirror even though she could practically feel him begging for her to do exactly that.
She expected her uncle to lecture her on their life, and tell her to suck it up. Or even to tell her that, despite what she wanted to do, her father was still her father, and she needed to respect his choices and decisions even when all they did were hurt her or someone she loved.
Because she did.
Love Renzo.
Entirely.
Her uncle surprised her.
“Give Lucian time,” Giovanni murmured as he took the exit ramp off the highway that would soon lead them to her family’s home. “I think part of your father has, for a moment, forgotten where he’s come from, but beyond that … he’s scared. Lucian has never done well when he’s scared of something. History shows us he overreacts, makes bad decisions, and tends to become un-fucking-bearable.”
Lucia couldn’t help it. She let out a small, bitter laugh. “That’s putting it mildly.”
Giovanni shrugged his broad shoulders. “But not a lie.”
“Hmm.”
“So, he’s scared,” her uncle continued quieter, “because one daughter is starting her own life, and another has already left him … mind you, after nearly being killed by a man who professed to love her. But she is gone now, in her own life with her husband, too. And John—well, let’s not get into your brother because that is a whole other topic, Lucia. But that just leaves you. The youngest of the bunch. His last child. And he’s terrified that you might leave, too, or he might not be able to protect you … but mostly that you’re going to leave him behind.”
“You say that like it should excuse the things he’s said, or done.”
“Not excuse. Explain.”
“It doesn’t really help, though,” she said, going back to staring out the window.
“No, I imagine it doesn’t.”
Thankfully, her uncle quieted for the rest of the trip home. He did follow her inside her parents’ home once they arrived, although without saying very much to her. She found her mother waiting inside.
Jordyn Marcello was an enigma. She’d not been brought up privileged like the man she married, or the family that welcomed her with open arms. Her life hadn’t been easy—Lucia heard those stories, too. Maybe that was why, once her mother had kids of her own to love and raise, Lucia couldn’t even remember Jordyn raising a hand or her voice to them over the years. She protected them with everything she was—so fierce, and full of love. She did whatever she had to do for them like a mother should.
But right then, her mother just looked sad.
And disappointed.
“I called you,” Jordyn said softly. “Three times, these past couple of days. At least, you chose a hotel where I could check in even if I couldn’t check in with you.”
Yes, because despite the fact Lucia refused to come home, and decided instead to keep an eye on Diego for Renzo, it really didn’t matter. All it would take was a quick check of her accounts or cards, and her family would know exactly where to find her. Or even, a simple call to her enforcers.
There was no hiding.
So, she hadn’t.
Giovanni hung back in the hallway as Lucia kicked off her shoes, and dropped her bag in the corner. “I needed some time, Ma. Sorry.”
“But why—”
Lucia’s head snapped up, and her gaze narrowed in on her mother. “Why?”
Jordyn didn’t seem at all fazed by Lucia’s angry question. In fact, her mother stayed leaning against the wall like this whole night was just something else for her to deal with. Not like it was an actual problem.
That was the thing …
For Lucia, this was a huge problem.
Her father … the shit he did, that was a problem.
“How is the young man?” her mother asked. “Renzo, I heard his name was. I guess he’s quite good at what he does. Your brother let me in on that. Your father told me some other things. So, how is he?”
Lucia blinked.
She could have settled on a lot of things to say, but only one thing felt appropriate for how she felt about Renzo. “He’s great.”
Renzo was so much more than just great. He was everything Lucia had never needed to be. He had the kind of strength she could only wish to have. He was fucking amazing.
Jordyn nodded once. “You could try to see things from your father’s perspective when it comes to the young man, Lucia. Walk a mile in his shoes, so to speak. You could at least—”
“At least, what, Ma?” Lucia interjected sharply. “Pretend like Daddy doesn’t think Renzo is trash? Act like he didn’t take away the only thing that really helps Renzo out by getting his little brother kicked out of the daycare where I help out? And for what, because he’s involved with me? Fuck that.”
“Lucia, language.”
“What, like everybody else around here doesn’t swear all the damn time?”
A throat cleared behind Lucia, and it took her a half of a second to realize it was not her uncle. She spun on her heel to find her father shrugging off his suit jacket before he hung it up on the waiting hook designated to him. She wished it didn’t have to be like it was, but just looking at her father sent her anger flaring even hotter.
“How could you do that to him, Daddy?” she demanded.
Giovanni cleared his throat, and gave Lucian a look who pretended like he didn’t even see it. Her father took his time fishing the keys, phone, and wallet out of his jacket pockets before he loosened the tie around his neck. Nodding in the general direction of her mother, Lucian demanded, “You apologize to your mother for speaking to her like that. If you have a problem with me, then you take it up with me, Lucia. You do not, however, speak to your mother like that. Not in this house.”
Lucia’s shoulders stiffened, but she still said, “Sorry, Ma.”
“It’s fine,” Jordyn said softly. “I’ll just … Gio, would yo
u like a coffee, or something?”
“Put some whiskey in it for me?”
“And I won’t tell Kim.”
Giovanni laughed. “You’ve got a deal.”
The hallway felt pregnant with a loaded silence until the footsteps of her mother and uncle faded into the kitchen. She desperately wanted to look at anything but her father in those moments. Still, she tipped her chin up, and met her father’s cool gaze down the hall.
“You quit the shelter,” her father stated.
It wasn’t even a question.
No surprise he already knew.
“I love that place,” Lucia whispered, “and you ruined it for me by doing that to Renzo.”
“The daycare was a warning,” Lucian murmured, tipping one hand over like it meant nothing. “For him, and not for you. But you … you are so stubborn, like your mother, and—”
“More like you, I think.”
The ghost of a smile curved Lucian’s lips at the corners, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone, too. “Maybe more like me than I want to admit, Lucia. Nonetheless, it was a warning not meant for you.”
“And yet, I still heard it, Daddy. I answered it, didn’t I?”
She didn’t miss the clench of her father’s jaw.
Then, her father waved a hand as if to brush it all off. “Doesn’t matter. I am sure after tonight, Renzo will make the right choice where you are concerned. I believe he now knows just how serious I can get when I make a statement clear.”
Lucia frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It’s not for you to worry about.”
Her father strolled down the hallway, tension following him the whole way. She had no doubt that this was going to be her life for the unforeseeable future. Tension, arguments, sadness, and pain.
“But,” Lucian added with a tick of his finger over his shoulder, “safely assume he won’t be around to see you, if he’s a smart young man. I believe he is.”
Rage filtered through Lucia’s system.
Fuck him.
“Why can’t you just let it go?” she called at his back.
Her father didn’t even turn around. “Because he’s not for you. He never will be.”
“That’s not for you decide!”
“But I did, didn’t I?”
No.
She did.
• • •
Yeah, I’ll be there in an hour, Lucia typed back to her sister, Cella. She figured since she hadn’t spent a lot of time with her family lately, that she should at least try to spend time with the family members who weren’t pissing her off. Like her older sister. John, the sibling she was most close to despite their age difference, kept calling and texting, but Lucia ignored every one of them.
He had no business approaching Renzo like he did. Lucia was not in the mood to play nice with her brother, no matter what he wanted. Maybe, when she wasn’t so angry with him anymore, she might pick up one of his calls or reply to his text messages. Just to tell him to fuck off, of course.
Right now, she didn’t even have the desire to do that.
“Lucia?” her mother called from the kitchen as she passed it by. “Don’t you want breakfast?”
Not particularly.
“No thanks, Ma.”
“But—”
“I’m good. Heading out to see Cella.”
“Well … okay.”
Breakfast meant spending time with her father when he finally rolled out of bed. It had been a couple of days since she came back home, and despite all her father’s efforts, they just weren’t talking. She made sure of it. The tension in their home was thick enough to smother a person with all the bitterness and words left unspoken that was weighing it down.
Lucia wished she cared.
Except she didn’t.
At all.
Because for every single day that passed without contact from Renzo, she was left feeling more and more bitter with her father. She didn’t try to reach out to Renzo, to be fair, but that was because she was waiting for him. Had her father—whatever he did—scared him off for good? Was he making a choice about her because he felt like he had to?
Then, so be it.
It still hurt, though.
God.
Like an ache deep in her chest that no matter what she tried to do, she just couldn’t ignore. It was there when she went to sleep, and lingered long after she woke up. She would become accustomed to it just long enough for her to forget about it before it came back around to kill her again.
Still, she didn’t call.
“Are you sure—”
Lucia swung the front door opened, and stepped outside before her mother could even finish her question. She didn’t need to hear it, anyway. Yes, she was sure that she didn’t want to spend even one more minute than she had to in her father’s presence. It would only lead to the two of them arguing again, and she just wasn’t in the mood today.
Glancing one last time at the screen of her phone, Lucia shoved the device into her pocket, and glanced up. It took her a second to realize what she was seeing at the end of her driveway, and exactly what it meant.
A second for her heart to start beating out of control, and feel like it was going to burst. A second for her to catch air in her lungs when he smirked, and winked from his position leaning against an older, restored Mustang with beautiful lines and a bright, fiery red paint job. A second for her own smile to grow wide before she darted off the steps, and closer to the man who was currently holding her entire soul in his hands, but probably didn’t even know it.
Renzo.
He looked like sex on a stick in his black jeans, leather jacket, and a plain white T-shirt. With his scuffed up combat boots hooked one over the other, and his arms folded over his chest, he seemed as though he didn’t have a single problem in the world. Certainly not because he was standing where he was … where he absolutely shouldn’t be right in front of her fucking house.
No doubt, the enforcer leaning over the hood to talk to Renzo was telling him exactly that, too. He didn’t even pay the guy any mind, just waved a hand, but kept his gaze on Lucia all the while.
She heard the last bit of the man’s statement to Renzo, though.
“If you’re smart, you’ll get the fuck out of here, man.”
Renzo didn’t even reply. He was too busy pushing off the hood of the Mustang with arms wide open to catch an oncoming Lucia. His arms wrapped around her like bars, but damn, she’d never wanted to be locked in more than she did with Renzo. Nothing would make her happier, honestly.
His lips moved against the line of her hair as he said, “Morning, baby.”
She grinned, tipped her head back, and found those familiar eyes of his drifting over her face like he was taking her in all over again. “What are you doing here?”
Blasé, far too sexy for his own good, and a little too cocky, Renzo shrugged one shoulder. “Last couple of days were busy, and I finally got a day to relax a bit. Wanted to spend it with you.”
Lucia arched a brow, and passed a look to the enforcer who was still lingering a little too close for her liking. Never mind the fact he was digging in his pocket, likely for a cell phone to call somebody. Probably her father who very rarely woke his ass up out of bed before eight, but usually closer to nine.
They needed to get out of here.
And quickly.
“Besides,” Renzo added, nodding his strong chin in the direction of her house, “asked around, got your address easily enough … figured, might as well make it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Oh, God.
She liked that as much as it terrified her.
“I’m sorry for … whatever happened,” she murmured.
Renzo’s thumb came up to press against the seam of her lips. His silent way of telling her to hush. He raised his brow, and then winked. “Diego went with Rose to get some things he needs. I’m not good at the whole … shopping bit.”
Lucia laughed. “Wouldn’t have guessed
it.”
Her teasing only prompted him to squeeze her waist roughly enough to take her breath away, but shit, she liked it. She always liked what this man did to her—loved it, really.
“Yeah, we got a problem, you know.”
Lucia glanced to the side to see the enforcer walking away from them. “We should get out of here.”
“Probably,” Renzo agreed. “I was thinking … the beach.”
“It’s the first of September.”
“Which is the perfect time to go, watch the waves, and not be bothered by other people.”
He had a good point.
The enforcer turned back around to face them with his mouth already open to say something else that would fall on deaf ears.
“Get in the car,” she told him, laughing. “Now.”
Renzo had just slipped into the driver’s side when the enforcer neared the vehicle again. Not that it mattered. Tires screeched as he backed out of the driveway. Lucia simply waved goodbye to the man who had probably been told to keep her from leaving. Then, she texted her sister.
Change of plans, Cella. Another day.
She had better things to do today.
• • •
Lucia leaned back against Renzo’s chest, and wordlessly, his arms snaked over her shoulders to hug her closer. Sitting on the hood of the Mustang, using the windshield as a backrest, he’d covered them with a multicolored quilt he’d pulled from the car. Just in case, apparently. It wasn’t that cold for September, but she wasn’t going to tell him to get rid of the blanket. It kept them hidden away from the rest of the world, not that there was that many people on the beach.
It didn’t matter.
She liked this.
Warm.
Tucked in.
Close.
Him.
“Where’d you get the car, anyway?” she asked.
“A friend. Let me borrow it for the day.” Renzo chuckled, his head dipping down so he could kiss the back of her neck. It sent shivers racing through her system like nothing else. A heat followed the same path. “For a fee, of course. Everybody wants something for nothing, but you still end up paying for it, right?”
