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“No. Like with Papi and Jax,” I reply.
“No,” she shakes her head before I’ve even finished speaking. “You can’t.”
“It’s what I want, Mom.”
“But, Lucia, you just finished college. You have your degree. You’re so smart. You don’t have to work with me in the charity, you can do anything you want to.”
“I know that. That’s why I want to work with Papi.”
“Alejandro.” She glares at him and he knows he’s in trouble because she only gives him his full name when he is. “Did you know about this?”
“Yes, but Lucia only told me earlier today,” he replies.
“Surely you told her that it is out of the question?” she snaps.
He sighs deeply as he wraps her in his arms. She tries to pull away but he holds her in place. “She is a grown woman, Alana. As her parents we have to let her make her own decisions. Just because we don’t agree with them, it doesn’t make them wrong.”
“Even if those decisions might get her killed.”
“Alana!” he warns and I realize this discussion no longer involves me. Only he has the power to refuse me and she expects him to use it.
“How the hell can you even consider this? It’s madness.”
“Do you think that Lucia shouldn’t take over the Montoya family business one day? Is she any less deserving than our sons?”
Wow! He went straight for jugular, using the fact that I’m adopted and that she’s a huge feminist in one fell swoop.
“No.” She pulls back from him but she glares up at him, all five feet four inches of her full of anger. “How dare you suggest that’s what this is about?”
“Then what is it? Because you know I want to hand over my legacy to my children. This is what I do, Alana. If Lucia wants to be a part of it, then I won’t stop her. The fact that she doesn’t want to be a spoiled rich kid who lives off her parents makes me proud of her.”
“A spoiled rich kid like me? Is that it?”
“I never said that,” he growls and the tension in the room becomes so thick I could cut it with a knife. My mom was never a spoiled rich kid, but my father believed that she was when he married her. It’s why he calls her princess. It started as an insult but became a term of affection.
I look at Jax hoping that he has some magical way to deal with what’s going on here but he shakes his head at me, as if to tell me to stay out of it. He knows my parents better than anyone. But I feel awful. I have started a huge fight between them the night before they leave for their first vacation in two years.
“Daddy.” I hear one of the twins shouting from outside the room.
He turns to the door momentarily and then he looks at me. “Lucia, can you see to your brother, please?” he snarls before he turns back to my mom who continues to glare at him.
“Sure.” I swallow, relieved to have an excuse to get out of the room. My parents rarely argue, but when they do it’s epic. Why the hell did I do this tonight?
“I’ll come help you,” Jax mumbles and the two of us walk out of the room and into the hallway.
“Luch-ee,” my little brother Dario says with a huge smile when he sees me.
“Hey, kiddo,” I scoop him into my arms. “What’s up?”
“Tomás said I can’t whistle,” he pouts and I can’t help but smile at him.
“And can you whistle?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “No.”
Jax laughs too and he ruffles Dario’s hair. “Go tell Tomás that I’ll teach you both to whistle as soon as you’re old enough.”
“Okay,” he grins and then clambers down out of my arms before running off down the hallway back to his brother.
