Page 17 of Summer Lovin'

“What do you want now, Jules?”

“You, my husband. Only and always you.”

EPILOGUE

JULIANNA

Three Years Later

Six months ago, I found out I was pregnant, and the knowledge that my child was going to be denied their birthright fueled a fire within me I’ve ignored until now. Although I know my husband will protect and provide for me and our children, the simple fact is my trust funds and the establishment of a new trust for any heir of the Capo family cannot and should not be denied by my father.

Romero—calling him Johnny lasted less than twenty-four hours since he rarely answered to it—supports my desire to claim my inheritance, but drew the line at setting up funds for our children. His reasoning was simple: “I don’t want your father thinking he has any control over our children.”

Fair enough.

We arrived home a week ago and have spent some wonderful time with our family. I love the Romeros, and feel a special kinship with Sophia and Aria. The cousins are as close as sisters, and they folded me into their family overnight. Since my wedding night, we’ve remained in contact, even having a girls’ weekend in Santa Fe last year.

As a surprise, Romero, Paco, Frankie, Jesus, and Saint unveiled to me a beautifully restored 1957 Corvette convertible in satin beige and cameo coral. It’s the most beautiful car I’ve ever seen, and I’m proud to drive it around town with a cHevy Hustlers Car Club placard on the back. I’m pretty sure we drove past Ty and his friends a couple of times—possibly on purpose.

Today is our court date. My stubborn father refused to mediate this issue, so we’ve ended up in front of a judge. My father’s lawyer requested a closed court, attempting to bar Romero from the proceedings, but my protective husband wasn’t having it.

My father and his lawyer are sitting at a table when Romero and I walk in. One look at my pregnant belly, and my father’s face turns red. Romero, sensing my nerves, interlaces his fingers with mine, but says nothing.

“Counselor, why are we here?” The judge starts the proceedings. “The will and testament of Lawrence Capo the Second is very clear about how the family fortune built off the company he started is to be handled.”

“Yes, Your Honor, but Julianna Romero violated those rules when she married Johnny Romero.”

“According to the marriage license, she was twenty-three years old when she married Johnny Romero. The terms of the two trust funds are straight-forward. She was to be awarded her first trust at twenty-one as long as she was enrolled in college and carrying a three-point-zero average. According to these transcripts, she did that, so I’m not understanding why her trust wasn’t released.”

“Your Honor—” My father’s lawyer interjects.

“I’m not finished, Counselor,” the judge continues. “The stipulations of her second trust is that she be a college graduate, gainfully employed in either the family business or a trade that benefits society, and not be married to a member of the Mercado family from Blackburg, Virginia—which I will admit, has me intrigued. Obviously, there is a story there. However, I have written documentation here that shows Mrs. Julianna Romero, age twenty-six, does indeed have a college degree as well as a teaching certificate, and is gainfully employed in the state of Colorado as a teacher—which in my book, benefits society. And I can’t help but notice her last name isn’t Mercado. So, I will ask you again, why are we here wasting this court’s time?”

“Your Honor, the Romeros have close family ties with the Mercados.”

“And?”

“So, she violated the intention of the terms by marrying Johnny Romero.”

“Intention. Really? Where did you go to law school, Counselor? Don’t you specialize in contract law?”

My father stands up and pounds his hand on the desk, blustering his outrage. “She was sneaking around with him since she was sixteen years old! She deserves nothing from the Capo enterprise, and I refuse to pay her for whoring around with our sworn enemy.”

The judge slams his gavel down on the sound block. “Sit down, Mr. Capo, or I will find you in contempt.”

Romero wraps his arm around me and pulls me close, all the while muttering profanities under his breath. After this ugly display, I’m glad this is a closed courtroom; otherwise, I’d be mortified by my father’s conduct. For years, I saw my father as a tyrant, a man who desperately needed to be in control, but now I feel sorry for him. He’s a lonely old man who long ago lost his capacity for love and compassion, allowing hate to eat at his heart and his soul. This is why my mother gave up when she’d been diagnosed with kidney failure—her body giving out quickly despite the doctor’s attempts to keep her alive. My father lost his way long before she grew ill, his focus purely on money and power. To those who worship him, he’s very generous—hence Ty’s devotion to his uncle. But to those who question his authority, he’s their worst enemy.

The judge looks at my lawyer. “Not that I need any more information, but do you have anything to add, Mr. Montoya?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Okay. This court finds in Mrs. Romero’s favor. Both trust funds are to be turned over to Julianna in full, to include any interest accrued since their original release dates. You have seven days to comply, or this court will take action to seize property and assets. We’re adjourned.”

I blow out the breath I’d been holding and lock eyes with Romero. “I’m sorry I had to put us through this.”

“You were right, Jules. After everything he put you through, you deserve your inheritance. Our family could have destroyed him, but they didn’t, and after everything he did, you deserve what was always yours.” My husband strokes my cheek and then rests his hand on my growing belly. I started showing three weeks ago and have noticed Romero rest his hand there every chance he gets.

I turn to thank our lawyer, Mr. Montoya, and lock eyes with my father, who stares at me with a mixture of hatred and sorrow. It doesn’t make me happy to have our relationship end this way, but I don’t think I’d ever trust him near my children—so what relationship is there to foster?

My father grabs his stuff and storms out of the courtroom without uttering another word. I can’t help it. A solitary tear falls down my cheek.

Romero kisses it away and then takes my hand. “Come on, Jules. Let’s go see the family.”

He’s right. I might have lost my father, but I gained a large loving family who accepts me regardless of what my last name used to be. This family loves me as one of their own, and I know our child will be loved and cared for with the same unyielding strength and protection.

And I still have my cousin, Rosie, who will attend the baby shower / BBQ tonight. I wonder how she and Frankie will get along after all these years? If I know those two, it’ll be entertaining.

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