Renzo + Lucia: The Complete Trilogy - Bethany-Kris Page 0,3

point me in the right direction. I’m not surprised it didn’t. All this family does is take care of business first, right?”

Andino’s gaze flicked away. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m sorry, Andi. I know I’m not allowed to be hanging around here. I shouldn’t have come.”

“It’s fine, kid. Just keep quiet to your dad, huh?”

Lucia nodded. “I will.”

“Where are you going after this?”

“I was going to go sit with Grandpapa while Grandmama ran some errands.”

Cecelia, her grandmother, always felt uncomfortable leaving her husband home alone when she left the house, for whatever reason. Lucia didn’t mind sitting with her grandfather. Then, he had someone watching him and someone to talk to. Antony, her grandfather, never minded.

Andino nodded. “All right. I’ll give John a call. Let him know where you’re going to be.”

Lucia’s anger ebbed away. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

• • •

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Cecelia asked.

“We’ll be perfect,” Lucia told her grandmother. “I’m sure he’ll get in to his usual trouble.”

Cecelia laughed, the lines around her eyes deepening in her joy. “Okay.”

“Don’t worry, Grandmama.”

“He’s been tired a lot lately,” Cecelia explained quietly. “I can’t help but worry.”

Lucia frowned, saddened over her grandmother’s concerns for her husband’s health. Antony Marcello always seemed to be the strongest, most formidable person in their family, but truth be told, he wasn’t getting any younger. A sharp tongue and a strong soul did not make for a healthy body.

“Just go do your stuff,” Lucia said. “He’ll be okay with me. I’ll put on his music, and he’ll be happy.”

Cecelia smiled. “Okay. Thank you for coming today.”

“I’ll always come, Grandmama.”

Her grandmother’s hand patted her cheek gently. The leathery feel of Cecelia’s palm reminded Lucia that her grandmother wasn’t a young woman, either.

“Our good girl, huh?”

Lucia batted her grandmother’s hand away lightly. “Go. You’re wasting time.”

“Going, going.”

Lucia closed the front door to the large Marcello mansion the moment her grandmother stepped out into the marble entrance. Making her way back through the house, she found her grandfather sitting in the living room in his leather recliner with his feet up, a glass of water beside him, and a remote in his hand as he flicked through the television channels.

“Did she pester you about me again?” Antony asked, his voice raspy with age.

Lucia laughed. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“I only look old, Lucia. I may feel it at times, too, but my mind is the same as it was when I was twenty-five. Sharp, quick, and too smart for everyone else.”

“That’s all that matters, Grandpapa.”

Antony waved a weathered hand high. “They all worry too much.”

“I know what you mean.” Lucia eyed the water her grandfather sipped from. “You didn’t spike that with something when Grandmama wasn’t looking, right?”

Antony smiled slyly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“No drinking, Grandpapa.”

“Oh, it’s just water. Stop it. She doesn’t even give me wine anymore.”

Lucia fake pouted. “Poor you.”

“She worries too much,” Antony repeated with a sigh. Flicking his wrist at the couch beside his chair, he added, “Sit, or your legs will get tired. Then I’ll have to listen to your father go on about how I don’t take care of you while you babysit me.”

“I’m not babysitting you.”

“Same thing.”

Lucia shook her head, knowing better than to argue with her grandfather. Antony, no matter his age, was too stubborn for his own good. The man would choke on his words before he would ever spit out that he might be wrong about something.

Taking a seat on the couch, Lucia asked, “What do you want to do today?”

Antony smiled, reached over, and took his youngest grandchild’s hand in his. “Sit here and enjoy the day with you, Lucia.”

“Okay, Grandpapa. We can do that.”

“Good.” Antony nodded at the television. “They have a true crime marathon on today for the mob and the New York families.”

Lucia couldn’t have stopped her laughter even if she tried. “Really?”

“Yes. They made a show about my rise to power in the eighties and nineties, too.”

“I know, I watched it when I was fifteen,” she admitted.

It was how she learned most of her family’s history and legacy in Cosa Nostra. The conversation that had followed with her father had been interesting, especially since Lucian didn’t hide a thing when Lucia asked about it all. It was the only time they did talk about it.

“The whole show is lies,” Antony said.

Lucia wondered about that. “Is it?”

Antony’s old eyes twinkled with mischief. “No.”

• • •

After saying goodbye to her grandmother, Lucia opened the front door to leave the Marcello mansion and begin