that worked.
“Lucia!”
“I’m up,” she called back to her father.
His shout had been closer that time. Before he came and knocked on her door, she figured she might as well just get the hell up. The last thing she needed was her parents thinking something was going on with her. They were predictable in the way they would likely pry into her issues until they found what the source was.
She loved them for that, really.
But not for this.
Lucia listened for the sounds of her father’s receding footsteps before finally kicking the blankets off her body, and sitting up in the bed. Instead of getting ready for the day right away, she continued staring at the light streaming in through the window until she was forced to blink because her eyes were getting too dry.
She’d tried, hadn’t she?
Tried to make Renzo see she didn’t think lesser of him because of where he came from, or the stuff he was dealing with in his life. She fully believed people weren’t defined by the number in their bank accounts, never mind the situation around them. A person could only make due with what they had. They couldn’t do anything with something they didn’t have in the first place.
And yet, she couldn’t act like she didn’t see the contempt in his gaze every time he looked at her. He couldn’t even be bothered to try to hide the heat in his tone whenever he had to talk to her.
Maybe that was his pride, or whatever, but at least she could say she tried. For now, though, Lucia was done trying. She didn’t need to keep making an effort where it seemed entirely pointless.
Even if everything about Renzo Zulla made Lucia want to get close, and learn more. Bad news was still bad news at the end of the day.
Though she didn’t want to admit it, Lucia was trying to protect herself a bit, too. The closer she tried to get to Renzo—because God knew curiosity was determined to kill the cat—the more he pushed to get her away.
That hurt.
Except, it shouldn’t hurt at all.
He didn’t owe her a thing. Not about himself, or his life.
So, yeah, she was done trying. If what he wanted was for her to stay far the hell away from him, then that’s exactly what she was going to do.
Or try.
Christ.
It took Lucia longer than it normally would to get ready for the day. She took extra care to make sure she painted the tiredness from under her eyes with careful strokes of a makeup brush; that her eyes looked wider and more open than they were with mascara and smudged eyeliner. She tossed her hair up in a high pony, and instead of her usual skinny jeans and blouse, she grabbed a dress instead.
A flowy, white dress because it was her birthday, and why the hell not. She might have been set to work in the kitchen that day, but it was her birthday, and she wanted to wear a damn dress.
Simple as that.
“Took you long enough,” Lucian grumbled as Lucia came down the stairs. “I didn’t think you were ever getting up, dolcezza.”
It was hard to ignore the fact her father was grinning, and looked like a kid in a candy store. It wasn’t often her father got excited about anything, really. Always cool, calm, and collected. That was Lucian Marcello in a nutshell.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
As soon as she was close enough for her father to reach out and grab her, he did just that. Pulling her into a tight hug, Lucia relaxed in her father’s embrace.
He felt like love, and home.
“Happy birthday, Lucia,” her father murmured, kissing her on the top of her head. “I just wanted to tell you happy birthday, that was all.”
“Eighteen, eighteen!”
It was only the sweet, sing-song voice of her mother that made her father step back from their embrace to let Jordyn in on it. Just like Lucian had done, Jordyn swept her daughter into a tight hug. Only this time, Lucia’s face was peppered with kisses from her ma.
“Makeup, Ma,” Lucia groaned, trying to pry herself away. It was pointless. She just ended up sighing, and letting her mother do her thing. All the while, her father stood a couple of feet back, chuckling. Soon, her mother stepped back, too. “Thanks.”
“Ready for your present?” her father asked.
Lucia gave him a look. “It’s a car, isn’t it?”
Lucian scowled. “John told you, didn’t he.”
It wasn’t even a