Page 51 of Privilege

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Lucia certainly expected a conversation with her parents when she finally arrived home, but she hadn’t thought her father would already be waiting on the front porch when she pulled into the driveway. What was more surprising was the fact Lucian rarely dressed down, and when he did, it was typically dark wash jeans and a silk dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. She didn’t think she had ever seen her father in anything less than his best, except for right then.

Lucian folded his arms over his chest as Lucia parked the Lexus, and exited the vehicle. In a plain white tee, and dark sweatpants, her father looked ready to hit the gym rather than chew her out for the night before.

“Dinner, remember?” he asked.

Lucia’s brow dipped. “What?”

“Yesterday was your birthday.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Lucian nodded. “Yes, and we were all going to have a late dinner with you for your birthday. That’s what we had planned, Lucia. Or did you forget?”

Mentally, she cursed herself because yes, she had done exactly that and forgotten about her plans with her parents. Clearly, she had gotten distracted by something else entirely.

Renzo, that was.

She still wasn’t sure if it had been worth it. Especially not with the way her heart was feeling entirely too heavy, a little painful. It was strange to her that she even felt this way in the first place. She’d never had to be good enough for someone before. She’d never had to prove her worth to anyone or anything.

That man made her feel like she had to do exactly that for him every single time she was put in his presence. Lucia wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep playing that game. She didn’t like being made to feel worthless.

“What happened?” Lucian demanded.

Lucia shrugged her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the porch steps. She figured this conversation would be better held in the house—even if she didn’t plan on telling her father where she had been, what she had done, or who she had been doing it with—instead of out here where the neighbors could see them.

Instead, her father didn’t budge from his spot at the top of the stairs. He blocked her path entirely, keeping her two steps lower than him, and staring up at his hard expression. As much as he tried to appear only angry, she would see he was worried, too. That was as clear as day.

“I’m sorry I forgot to call,” Lucia said, “it won’t happen again.”

“That’s not what I asked,” her father returned.

If she was a smarter girl, Lucia would have just made up some lie and been done with it. It wasn’t like her father ever stepped in on his children’s choices or made them go one way or another when it came to relationships. If anything, he made every effort to stay out of all that. Lucia appreciated it, and she knew her older siblings did, too.

It wasn’t at all common in their culture, or within the suffocating life of mafioso for parents to do that in the first place. It was almost expected that men like her father would decide who their child could or could not date, and who was or was not appropriate for their lifestyle.

Lucian had never done that—ever.

But Lucia was apparently not a smart girl lately. Wasn’t her recent actions proof enough of that? She didn’t want to tell her father anything at all; partly because she didn’t know what in the hell she was thinking, and partly because she didn’t think it was any of Lucian’s goddamn business.

Here she was.

Safe and sound.

That should be good enough.

“I’m eighteen,” Lucia said, moving up the stairs and pushing past her father to enter the house. “I don’t have to answer you when you ask where I go, or what I do. I’m an adult, Daddy.”

Her father made a noise under his breath, but Lucia didn’t care. She reached for the door knob to twist it open, but her father was there first. Once again, he blocked her path. She was forced to stare up at him, and tried her best not to glare, but probably failed.

Lucian looked entirely unbothered by her attitude. She’d never gone a round with her parents before. She was not the rule breaker of their family. She knew what was expected of her, and followed the rules to a T.

She had the distinct feeling this was not going to be the same at all. Her father looked like he knew it too, if his stiff posture was any indication.

“I want to go inside, shower, and have a nap,” Lucia said dryly, “so excuse me.”

Lucian shook his head, and folded his arms over his chest again. His telltale sign that he wasn’t going to be moved at all. She’d seen him use that same stance over and over again throughout the years with her stubborn brother, John. Lucian was a brick wall, and no-fucking-body was getting through him.