by Bethany-Kris
“So, you’re good, then?” Lucian asked him.
Renzo shrugged. “Just a few last-minute details.”
“Ah.”
“I need to get some shit packed, but without, you know, people finding out. So, I was wondering if maybe Jordyn could—”
Lucia’s mother’s answer came fast in reply. “I can get that done for you, Ren!”
He laughed. “Well, I guess there’s one detail figured out.”
Lucian nodded. “And one more for you—thank my brother’s wife, because it’s Catrina’s jet.”
“Got it. So, I’ve got like an hour to get back to the city before her spa appointment is over. Is that going to be possible—”
“No worries,” Jordyn said, coming around the corner of the kitchen entryway to join her husband in the hallway with Renzo. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll get her all packed up and send the bags to the strip with a driver. He’ll be there and it’ll all be loaded before you even arrive. Don’t worry, it will go off without a hitch. She’s going to appreciate this.”
Renzo blew out a hard breath.
Fuck.
He hoped so.
Lucia deserved this.
So did he.
For once in his life, literally, everything just wanted to align to make it happen. Along with the generosity of Lucian and Jordyn Marcello, given the Bali trip had originally been theirs. They were kind enough to give it to their daughter. Who was he to fuck with the stars, and all that shit?
Besides … Lucia had said she needed a vacation, hadn’t she?
“Have fun,” Lucian told him, “and no worries, John will check in with Diego to keep an eye on him, huh?”
“Thanks.”
Yeah.
A lot of shit had changed.
Like now?
Renzo had a family.
He’d had a small one before, sure, and he loved his brother and sister more than anyone would ever know. But Lucia gave them people, too. More big brothers to watch Diego’s back. Mother figures who taught them how to cook or answered late-night questions about sick kids. Male role models who were actually there.
Renzo might not need those things at his age. And maybe neither did Rose, in some ways.
But he and Rose couldn’t be all those things to Diego, all the time. They were humans doomed to fail sometimes, but Lucia gave them a family in hers that really stepped it up when it counted.
He wouldn’t give that up for the world.
• • •
“Hey, Ren!”
“Diego,” Renzo said back, “did you ace that test or what, man?”
“You know I did.”
Renzo chuckled. “Better have.”
His brother’s sigh echoed throughout the speakers of the Maserati he’d bought for himself as a gift the year before. The first time he’d ever allowed himself such an extravagant gift without the usual guilt that accompanied it. The memory of being dirt poor was never going to leave Ren, and, fuck yeah, he still sometimes thought he wasn’t worthy of the life he now had.
Just how it was.
Not that he intended to give it up.
Ever.
“Told you I would,” Diego replied.
“I’m joking. Knew you were gonna kill it. So, hey, listen … I know I said maybe this weekend we could do something, but you know how I say sometimes we gotta take care of us first, instead of everybody else? Be a little selfish sometimes, so then we can go back to being the people everybody needs us to be?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Renzo smiled to himself, the miles on the highway coming at him faster and faster as he approached the city limits. Twenty minutes before Lucia’s spa appointment ended, and he had to be there to pick her up because it was meant to be a no stress day before he really finished out her surprise.
“All right, well, Lucia and I gotta do that. We need to take some time to just be us, away from everything else. It’s been a long time since we could do that. So, I know I said we’d try for something this weekend, but—”
“Yeah, it’s okay, Ren. Next weekend, then?”
“Absolutely, kiddo.”
“Ren.”
He laughed. “You know you still like it when I call you that, Diego. And buddy, too.”
“Mmm.”
“Anyway, just … promise me you’ll stay out of trouble, huh?”
It took his brother a second.
Then, two.
Finally, Diego said, “I disappointed you when I got in trouble last year. Was worse than when you were mad that time, ‘cause I lied about that party after baseball. That really fucking sucked, Ren, so I’m not gonna do it again. Just so you know, and all.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, Ren.”
“I just … you know I want you to have every chance that I didn’t and more, right?”
Like Diego was his own fucking kid.
Because he basically was.
Renzo raised this kid for most of his life.
“Oh, and tell Lucia to have fun,” Diego said, “guess I’ll call Tessa and see what she’s doing.”
He cleared his throat, knowing exactly who Tessa was in Diego’s life.
“Be safe, huh?”
“I know.”
“Just … I don’t mean it to put you on the spot. Like, I think it’s gonna happen with you and her because I know what you told me. But it doesn’t have to be right now for me to remind you of this stuff, okay? Remember everything I’ve told you, yeah?”
“I do, Ren.”
Yeah, he knew.
Still, he worried.
Because that’s what people who loved you did.
“Okay, I gotta hit the gas a little harder here or I’ll miss Lucia coming out of the spa—she thinks it’s gonna be a driver to take her home, but it needs to be me.”
“All right, Ren. Love you.”
Still cool to say that, he guessed.
“Love you, too, buddy.”
SEVEN
“Here’s your tea, Mrs. Zulla, and when you’re ready to leave, your driver is waiting outside for you.”
Still wrapped tightly in the silk robe provided by the spa, Lucia felt appropriately buffed, shined, and pampered. From the bottoms of her toes to the very top of her head, her body had never been more relaxed than it currently was. She had to give Renzo credit for knowing what she needed, and right where to send her to get it done.
“Did you enjoy the treatments?” the blonde woman asked, gathering the small plates next to Lucia’s chair that had held pastries.
“More than you know.”
The woman grinned. “Oh, trust me, I know. Sometimes, we all need one of these days. And I am sure you deserved it.”
“I will be back.”
“Well, no one here will complain about that.”
She bet not.
Hell …
This place probably ran Renzo a couple thousand dollars, easily. From the mud bath to the honey wrap. Then the heat capsule where everything but her head had been closed into an egg-shaped, pod-looking thing. Steam cleaned out every pore in her body and sucked all that bad shit out.
The dirt.
Her stress.
Whatever.
It had taken it all away, and she still thought her feet floated above the floor. It really spoke to the spa’s abilities to make a person forget about the outside and whatever had brought that person running here to make it all go away. Next time she came, if Renzo didn’t join her, then she was certainly bringing one of her cousins or sisters.
Or all of them.
They all deserved a day here, surely.
“Your driver said no rush on finishing up,” the woman said before heading out of Lucia’s private room.
“Thank you.”
She did exactly that, too. Took her time to finish the Earl Grey tea, which was her favorite, and only then did she finally shed the silk robe to get dressed in the clothes that waited, folded, on the table next to the chair. When she
finally left the room and headed to the waiting room of the spa, the women behind the front desk waved her goodbye.
Distracted by the kind women and wondering when she might be able to sneak back here, Lucia didn’t even notice who her driver was, who had apparently been waiting for her outside. His low whistle, however, had her spinning around fast to face him where she found the sexiest sight leaning against a familiar, black Maserati.
Renzo.
Damn.
And he loved that car.
Looked so good on it, too.
She didn’t expect him to be standing there, considering it was him who had told her that another person would pick her up and take her home after this little spa day of his. And despite the fact he’d told her that her entire schedule for the week had been cleared, he’d refused to explain further on that topic.
“Look at you, huh? They have you glowing, babe.”
Lucia grinned. “You think?”
“Should this be a regular thing?”
She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes, yes it should.”
Renzo flashed her with a blinding smile. “Will do.”
“Back home?” she asked, coming closer until she could grab the hand that he held out for her. “Or do you have something else planned?”
He winked. “You know me so well. Definitely something else. Get in the car—we gotta head out of the city.”
“To where?”
“You’ll see.”
This man was lucky she loved surprises.
• • •
“Ren—”
It was like he could hear the concern in Lucia’s voice as she finally recognized where they were, and what the private air strip meant. Not to mention, the damn jet at the end of the runway looked as though it were on standby and ready to fly.
“Let me talk,” he said, never once taking his gaze away from the window while he navigated the Maserati down the long strip, “and then we’ll see how you feel, okay?”
She passed him a look.
He still kept his stare on the road.
Dammit.
She loved this man, but she didn’t know if she liked this idea of his very much, considering everything that she was now seeing.
“Fine, talk,” she said.
“Six days in Bali—a private residence with maids, a cook, and everything. There’s even a damn waterfall in the back, Lucia, and a pool that has one glass wall, so it looks like the water just drops off all of the sudden. Can you imagine the views? There’ll be no working, nobody bothering you or me, and time for us to get back to what’s important here. Tell me that doesn’t sound fucking amazing.”
“That’s my mother and father’s trip.”
“No, it’s ours because they decided to give it to us to use. Don’t feel guilty about that—we’re just going to pay them back times a hundred for their anniversary or something, okay? So, six days in Bali, think about it.”
She sighed.
That did sound lovely.
Perfect, really.
Still, she had to think about everything else she had going on, too. Life couldn’t be as simple as Lucia just packing up her shit and heading out of town for almost an entire week. Even Renzo had to know that, but his next words made it seem like he had all those bits figured out, too.
“Nothing on your schedule was so important, according to your assistant—you know, that person you hire to take care of these things for you and be aware of this shit—that it couldn’t be moved. Oh, and that showing you have for the artist? It’s not for another two weeks, and since I know damn well it’s been a major source of stress for you, it would be good to get some time away from it.”
“But—”
“Not done, Lucia.”
She pressed her lips together, trying to hide her smile. She loved that somehow, he’d managed to pull this together for her in a day. How, she didn’t know.
“Your aunt, Kim, is going to handle the gallery for the week,” Renzo added.
He pulled the car to a stop a good fifty meters away from the private jet—she recognized the plane well enough because it belonged to her other aunt, Catrina. In the driver’s seat, Renzo turned to face her with a grin and his eyebrows raised expectantly.
“Your ma packed the bags for us. They’re already waiting on the jet. The gallery will be handled. John is going to keep an eye on Diego. Your father will keep everyone else in line.”
Lucia laughed lightly. “Of course.”
“So, what do you say? Are we going to Bali? You did want a vacation.”
“I was joking.”
“Didn’t really take it that way, babe.”
God.
This man.
She loved him so much.
And right then, all she wanted to do was climb across the front seats of the Maserati and show him just how much she loved him. Which she was sure Renzo would love, too, but chances were … they needed to get on that plane.
“How did you do all this in a day?”
He shrugged. “Money can do anything. That, and a lot of hope, luck, and generosity from your parents.”
Right.
She had another thought, then.
Renzo rarely acted like he had money. He didn’t throw it around stupidly just because he had enough to do it. In fact, he lived conservatively and invested a lot of what he made working through The League.
She bet this cost a lot, even if the trip itself had been her mother and father’s. That didn’t mean everything else he’d factored into the trip didn’t cost money. And she would not ruin it with her worries.
“We’re going to Bali, Ren.”
EIGHT
“Sir, we’ll be arriving at the house in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you.”
The partition between the front and back of the car closed again, allowing Renzo his privacy from the driver.
Lush greenery, brightened by a sun so high in the bluest of skies, cloudless and stretching so far, had Renzo more than happy to be sitting in the backseat of a car for once in his damn life. The driver at the front had closed the partition between the front and back seats as they were chauffeured from the airport to the private residence he’d rented for the week, but the back windows were down.
Just a crack, not much.
It was enough, though.
To smell the air.
The island.
All the water.
Usually, he’d be the one in the front seat driving. He preferred that, really, because he didn’t like giving someone else control of a vehicle. Today, he didn’t have a single damn to give because not only did he have the best view of the volcanic mountains, thick with lush forests ahead of them, but also of the woman napping in his lap.
That flight?
So long.
Lucia had done her best to stay awake for most of it, not wanting to miss a thing. He knew that feeling, but at the same time, he didn’t blame her when she’d finally fallen asleep in the seat next to his after the plane had landed and she’d snuggled in close. He was used to staying up for hours on end, constantly. Forty-eight hours with eyes peeled wide open was fucking nothing for him because that was one of the first things The League had ever taught him to do.
You have no limits.
He couldn’t forget those words.
He didn’t.
Drifting his fingertips through the length of Lucia’s dark hair, smoothing out the strands with each stroke, he finally took his attention away from the views outside to admire the one in his lap. Those long lashes of hers fanned against her skin, and her lips stayed in the pout of her sleep, making her pretty features far softer.
She looked happy.
Relaxed.
And wasn’t that everything he wanted?
God, he hoped this week gave his girl everything she didn’t even know that she needed. Lucia worked nonstop—was still the most motivated person he knew, frankly. She woke up with a smile and went to bed with one, too. It was one
of the reasons he loved her the most. You know, next to literally everything else about her.
Sometimes, he wondered if they took nearly enough time for one another in their very busy lives. Hell, there were times when he felt as though they barely even saw each other. He’d just get back from one job for The League only to be immediately sent out on another. Sure, he could refuse them, being he was an independent contractor for them now … but he didn’t know how to slow down.
Lucia never told him to.
She worked damn hard, too.
He never told her to stop.
Of course, then he had moments like these. Quiet moments. All he had to do was stare at her—the world seemed a little slower around him—and all he seemed to think about was that he could do this exact thing for the rest of his fucking life with her.
Absolutely nothing.
Just stare at her.
Maybe that was the thing.
Life wouldn’t slow down.
He had to make it do it.
• • •
“Oh, wow.”
Renzo grinned, helping a still sleepy-eyed Lucia from the back of the car. He didn’t mind that she wasn’t really looking at him, but only because she was so entirely entranced with the vacation home waiting for them. Protected by a large, stone fence and a wrought iron gate that didn’t even creak when it opened to let their vehicle into the circular driveway, it was quite a place. Deep within the forested land of the island, the three-level home had been designed with just enough of a modern hand but with a touch of the island that housed it.
The place welcomed them with a wrap-around terrace for the bottom and second floors, a cobblestone pathway, and shrubbery native to the island as they headed for the house. Because of the photos he’d seen of the place, he knew they would find scenery worth dying over, a massive pool, the waterfall he told Lucia about, a hot tub, and far more behind the place.
It was going to be a damn good week.
“Where are our bags?”
“Already carried in,” he explained, “something else you slept through, babe.”
