Page 92 of Privilege

“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 you 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.