Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“I’m not a child,” I cry, my face heating. “You need to stop treating me like one.”

“You are a child. You’re my child.” He sighs, his face drawn. “This is for your own good, Lucia. It wouldn’t have lasted anyway. Not with you over in Paris.”

“Me where?” I sputter, confused. What the hell is he talking about? The second I’m over this, I’ll be back in New York where I belong.

“It was going to be a surprise, but I might as well tell you now. I pulled some strings and got you a position in the Paris Opera Ballet. I’m sure you realize they are regarded as the best company in the world?”

“You what?” I gasp. “You can’t buy my way into a company,” I say. “Besides, I have a place. In New York. Remember?”

“You’re going to give up the best so you can achieve substandard?” He laughs. “Besides, I canceled your contract with the New York Ballet Company.”

“You what?” I gasp again. He has got to be kidding me. What gives him the fucking right to keep interfering in my life?

“This isn’t good enough, Dad. I don’t need or want your help. All I want is for you to let me live my life. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”

“I know you’re smart enough to realize this is the opportunity of a lifetime. You’re serious about your dancing? Prove it to me. Prove it to yourself. So, I got you an in? That’s all it is. A chance to show everyone what you’re made of. Do you know how many dancers want to dance with them? Hundreds. Do you know how many of them make it onstage? A handful, if that.”

He’s right. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make any of this easier to digest. I want to do this on my own. But on the other hand, if I did go I would be starting at the absolute bottom of one of the best ballet companies in the world. If I could crack that, I could do anything. This could launch my career, and my father damn well knows it.

“What are the conditions?” I ask, my voice trembling. Like I even need to ask. This is his way of getting me away from Pietro. And I’m actually considering it. What kind of person does that make me?

“There are no conditions, Lucia. What am I, a monster?”

I don’t believe him for a second. He always has something up his sleeve.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” I ask, my voice sharp. Pain crosses his face and I feel bad. He’s only trying to do what he thinks is best for me.

“Lucia, if you want to continue this thing with Pietro, then that is up to you. There is nothing I can do about that, is there?” He shrugs and I narrow my eyes at him. This has to be some kind of trick. “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks.

“Because nothing with you is ever this easy.”

“Maybe I’m a changed man. You said so yourself. You’re not my little girl anymore. I need to accept that.”

I’m still not convinced, but I decide to move the conversation along.

“How did you get me in?” I ask suspiciously.

“People owe me favors. As I said, all I did was get your foot in the door. Whether that door opens or slams shut in your face is up to you.”

Sighing, I nod. I need time to digest all of this. If I do go, I know things with Pietro won’t be the same, even with my father’s blessing. My schedule won’t have time for a boyfriend, let alone one on the other side of the world.

“You don’t need to make a decision now, Lucia. It’s been a big few days for you. Go rest.” He pats me on the back and walks out of the room, leaving me alone to wonder what decision is the right one.

I lie on my bed, waiting to hear my father leave for the meeting I overheard him planning. Finally, I hear him come up the stairs and knock on my door.

“I’ll be out for an hour or so. I have my phone, so call me if you need me. Alsia is downstairs,” he adds. I nod and manage a smile, waiting until he closes the door and retreats back down the stairs before I grab my phone to text Pietro.

Me: Come over in ten minutes. He’s just leaving.

Struggling to my feet, I throw a robe over my pajamas and wait until I see my father’s car leave the property before I go downstairs. I walk into the kitchen and make myself a cup of tea while I wait. My stomach is in knots at the thought of seeing Pietro again. It’s only been a day since I saw him last, but it feels like a day too long.

As I carry my drink into the living room, the doorbell rings.

I open the door and see him standing there, glancing around nervously. His dark curly hair is a mess and the dark circles under his eyes suggest he hasn’t slept. I bite my lip as he rubs his stubbled jaw, the urge to feel him inside me strengthening. Despair fills my stomach as I think about the choice I need to make. How am I going to be able to leave him if I can’t last a day apart?

“You’re sure he’s not hiding around the corner or something?” he asks, eyeing the hallway to his office suspiciously.

“You’re clear. He’ll be gone for at least an hour.”