Lucien (The Marchesi Family 1)

As we pulled up at the house, Peter’s mouth dropped open. At least he was fucking impressed, but my last fucking hope of hiding things from him was gone. Devil stood by a black SUV he’d parked right in front of the house. He had a gun stuck in the waistband of his pants, and instead of the suit I expected him to wear when he came into the office, he had on a tank top, revealing the tattoos covering his arms and showing that he didn’t give a fuck how cold it was outside. Dressed like that, he looked even scarier than usual.

As we watched, he pulled the handle of the rear passenger door and yanked it open. We couldn’t hear what he said, but I saw him jerk his head toward the house. Seconds later, a woman stepped out of the car. I heard Peter’s sharp intake of breath, but I didn’t dare look at him. It was Damian Ricci’s wife, Elena. She was at least twenty if not thirty years younger than him, and while it was bad enough Devil had taken her, she turned back to the car and motioned for her two children to climb out. They stood beside her, clinging to her skirt. I wasn’t sure of their exact ages, but my best guess was four and six.

“Lucien?” Peter’s voice trembled.

“We need to go into the house.” I didn’t bother trying to explain. Nothing was going to make Peter think this was okay, because it wasn’t, but it was done, and I had to deal with it now.

When we entered the foyer, Lola was escorting the woman and her children to a room somewhere down the hall, followed by two of our guards. Whenever we spent time here, Lola always joined us. I was glad she was here today. Devil grinned at me, looking very pleased with himself. I refused to acknowledge what he’d done. “Are Dad and Sabrina here?”

“They’re probably in your dad’s office with Angelo, but I don’t know. I haven’t been here.”

“I noticed, and it’s my office now.”

Devil just smiled. I wanted to drive my fist into his smug face, but he was trying to wind me up, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

I glanced at Peter and inclined my head, indicating that he should follow me. He did. At least he wasn’t scared enough to insist I let him go. When we reached my office, I was surprised to see my father hadn’t taken his old place behind the desk but had left it for me. My aunt was there too along with Angelo. I focused on Sabrina. “Would you keep Peter company while we have our meeting?”

She looked ready to protest, but when she looked at Peter, she must have seen something on his face that made her change her mind. She rose from her seat and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. “Of course. Peter, why don’t we see what Lola has for us in the kitchen.”

I forced myself to look at Peter. The disappointment in his eyes cut right through me, but I kept my expression neutral. “Stay with Sabrina. I’ll find you later when our business is concluded.”

Peter gave me a small nod before turning away. I wanted to follow him, to tell him this wasn’t my choice, but begging someone for understanding wasn’t something men like me did. I gave orders, I made decisions, and I expected people to accept that.

“I needed a snack,” Devil said when he finally stepped into the office, holding a large cookie in his hand.

I grabbed it, threw it in the trash, and pointed at a chair. “Sit the fuck down.”

Fortunately for him, he did. I felt his eyes on me as I turned away and began to pace the room. I didn’t feel like sitting down. What I wanted to do was take Peter’s hand and walk out of the room, out of the house, away from my life. But I would never do that. I had to fix this fucking mess.

When I thought I could speak calmly, I looked at Angelo. I wasn’t about to give Devil the privilege of speaking first. He wanted to brag about what he’d done, and I had no interest in hearing it from him. “Explain to me what the fuck went on today.”

“No,” my father said first. “You explain why he was left to deal with it while you ran around with your new boy. I expect better of you Lucien. You don’t usually get led around by the dick.”

My father had made me angry many times before, but I’d never felt the rage toward him that I did at that moment.

“Never speak about Peter like that again. He had nothing to do with my decision to leave today. That was on me. I thought Angelo could handle himself. He’s wanted more responsibility, so I tried to let him take some.”