Page 77 of Loving Lucia

“Well, it won’t be Pavone’s forever,” Angelo points out. “And you should take more pride in your home than that.”

“That is an excellent point,” Victor says. “I suppose if you stay here, with the house, you could always invite Angelo over to critique your garden. But selling would give you some much needed capital. You could downsize to a condo like Angelo owns.”

“Wait. Angelo has a condo?” I stare at him. “Condos don’t have gardens. And wasn’t Victor’s mansion originally your brother’s? Why didn’t you just kick Victor out, instead?”

Angelo’s smile gets a bit strained. “What do I need a mansion for, Princess? It’s just me. And I’ll have you know, I set up a bunch of potted plants on the balcony. All of which are doing better than the sad, limpy flowers in your garden.”

I frown at him. “I don’t…” I shake my head. “It’s not mine to sell. It’s my mother’s.” I’ve never lived on my own before, and I don’t really know where to begin processing that. I take another few bites from my plate, though the flavorful food is now tasteless. “I’ll have access to my own accounts again, though, so I can find a place…”

The idea is surprisingly terrifying, especially when I consider how easily I was kidnapped before. Even with my father dead, even with Pavone dead, I won’t be safe. And it’s not just me I need to look out for. Vanessa and my mother would make fine targets for anybody hoping to get at my father’s accounts.

Saint nods eagerly. “We should get you a nice beach-side apartment. Then we can go on long walks, enjoy the sun… Angelo could teach you to surf…”

“Because the beach worked out so well for your last outing,” Victor interrupts.

Angelo’s fork clatters to the table. “Fuck off, Victor. We’re past that now. Right, Princess? You aren’t going to be cutting and running again.”

I’d promised him I wouldn’t, not if he helped me, and I’m reminded of the magnitude of giving my word.

“No, I’m not. Not as long as it’s only you and Saint,” I say pointedly, glancing aside at Victor.

His expression doesn’t change, unsurprisingly.

“But Victor can join tonight,” Saint presses as he refills my wine glass. “It’d be kind of shitty of us to exclude him when he’s already here.”

“I’m sure I’ll cope.” Victor takes another bite, eyes on me the entire time.

That sounds like permission to kick him out of tonight’s “date.” I should. I open my mouth, ready to explicitly say that Victor isn’t allowed to whatever after party they have planned.

But instead, I say, “Maybe I can be convinced.”

My heart beats hard in my chest. This is such a bad idea. Every single time I’m with the three of them, I’m overwhelmed, used, abused.

But I remember how I felt when it was me and Victor with Saint at our knees, too. I remember just how powerful I was when Victor stood at my side.

Angelo laughs and reaches out to squeeze my shoulder. “Yeah? What kind of convincing do you need?”

“I think promises are in order that I won’t be the only one getting subjugated,” I say, looking directly at Saint.

He blanches. “What… What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“That if I’m going to play sub, you’re going to join me.”

He shakes his head quickly. “I’m not letting Angel fuck me again,” he says emphatically.

“There are other things you can do,” I say, liking the idea more and more. I can’t stop Victor and Angelo from taking over; it’s just… how theyare. But I don’t have to be the only one on the bottom.

Victor finally lets a small hint of a smile show. “Of course, love. I’m more than happy to accommodate that request.”

Angelo nods eagerly. “Yep, sounds hot. I love Saint all teary-eyed and needy, too.”

“Hey, I get a say in this too,” Saint protests.

I meet his eyes. “No, you really don’t. Not if you want me. Not if you want all four of us together.”

He sulks, poking at his food instead of eating it.

“That’s my price,” I tell him firmly. My appetite has returned at the thought of it, and I start to eat again, stopping only to drink more of my wine for liquid courage.

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