Chapter 33 #2
"That's because... you spoil her..." My voice fragmented, rationality peeling away layer by layer under his familiar provocations.
Just as he prepared to break through further, the air thick enough to explode—the bedroom door opened from outside.
"Daddy... Mommy..."
A nasally, sweet voice rang out abruptly in the dark doorway.
Lucien froze completely, closing his eyes in disbelief, veins bulging on his forehead, a pained curse squeezing from deep in his throat.
"Goddamn it..."
I snapped awake from the daze, shoving Lucien off, frantically pulling my robe together, scrambling to sit up. At the door, Cecilia stood barefoot, hugging a one-eyed teddy bear, wearing pajamas covered in little ducks. Her big eyes brimmed with tears, looking at us pitifully.
"Sweetheart... why'd you come here?" Lucien grabbed the blanket, draping it haphazardly over his waist, his face murderous, but his tone forced soft.
"There's a monster under my bed..." Cecilia sniffled, running to the bedside and climbing up, squirming between Lucien and me like an eel, hugging both our arms. "I'm scared. I want to sleep with Daddy and Mommy."
I looked at Lucien's iron-dark expression, barely suppressing laughter.
"There's no monster. Be good, sleep." I ruffled her messy hair.
Lucien collapsed back onto the pillow in despair.
"Elora," he ground out in the darkness, "first thing tomorrow, have Enzo throw this little demon into New York's strictest boarding preschool."
"Save it, Mr. Genovese." I turned my back to him. "Tomorrow morning she'll call you Daddy once, and you'll forget about the kindergarten crap. Good night."
The next day was Natalie's monthly visit to see her granddaughter. If Lucien had no boundaries with Cecilia, Natalie's indulgence of her only granddaughter bordered on obsession.
I sat in the greenhouse reviewing next quarter's financial reports when a terrified scream erupted from the backyard, followed by frantic barking.
"What happened?" I shoved the greenhouse door open, running toward the rose garden.
When I arrived, the scene made my legs weak.
Natalie's precious Damascus roses—hundreds transplanted from England with enormous effort—were trampled flat! Three massive Caucasian shepherds rampaged excitedly through the flowers, digging holes, mud and petals flying everywhere.
In the center fountain pool, Cecilia stood soaking wet in knee-deep water, waving a walking stick, commanding the fierce dogs. "Charge! Big doggies! Destroy all these bad flowers!"
"Dear God!" Natalie stamped her feet anxiously but didn't blame her granddaughter, instead scolding the arriving guards. "Who left the cage unlocked? Get those filthy dogs away! Don't scare Ceci!"
Enzo and several guards tried desperately catching the dogs, getting splattered with mud, the scene chaotic as a marketplace.
"Cecilia!" I nearly blacked out with rage. "Get out here now!"
Not only did she not listen, she smacked the stick in the water, splashing Enzo's face. "I'm the queen! I'm not coming out!"
"You little—" I rolled up my sleeves, about to charge into the mud.
At this completely out-of-control moment, steady, rhythmic tire sounds came from the front courtyard. A black armored Maybach rolled to a stop at the main building's steps.
Everyone fell eerily silent for half a second, even the three barking Caucasian shepherds stopping, ears pricking alertly.
A white-gloved guard opened the car door. A spotless black calfskin ankle boot stepped firmly onto the manor's marble stairs.
Then a boy with upright bearing stepped out. He wore a gray pinstripe suit, a deep blue silk scarf tied casually yet elegantly around his neck. Seven or eight years old, yet possessing a calm, oppressive presence far beyond his age.
He'd perfectly inherited Lucien's inherent coldness and restraint, but with added gentleness, appearing unfathomable.
Leo was home. He'd finished his year-long European study abroad. My son—who once followed me around begging for apple pie—now returned to his territory like a prince about to inherit his throne.
He raised his head slightly, surveying the wrecked rose garden. His gaze swept the chaos, finally locking precisely on the mud-covered monkey Cecilia standing in the fountain, stick raised, stunned.
Leo walked unhurriedly toward the fountain. Enzo instinctively stepped back. The three fierce Caucasian shepherds actually whimpered under Leo's cold stare, tucking their tails and lying obediently on the ground.
Leo stopped at the pool's edge, pulling a snow-white silk handkerchief from his suit pocket.
"Cecilia. Come here."
This was the first time I'd seen Cecilia back down. The little demon who feared nothing—not even her tyrant father—actually flinched at those simple words.
"Leo..." Cecilia abandoned her stick, letting it fall in the water, wading obediently to the pool's edge.
Leo looked at her, reaching out to wipe mud from Cecilia's cheek.
"Who taught you to point a stick at people?" Leo methodically handed the handkerchief to a maid, his tone so calm it sent chills. "What's the first rule of the Genovese family?"
Cecilia's eyes reddened. She looked pleadingly toward Natalie, then at Lucien who'd just arrived, finding no one would plead for her.
"Go apologize to Enzo." Leo tilted his head slightly. "Then go to your room. Pack all your Legos and dolls into boxes and bring them to me. Until you've read three etiquette picture books, no sweets."
"Wahhh—"
Cecilia completely crumbled. Crying, she apologized to Enzo, then scrambled upstairs, all earlier arrogance gone. Leo turned, walking toward me. The next second, all coldness shattered, replaced by the purest, most brilliant smile of an eight-year-old child.
"Mom!" He hugged my waist, nuzzling my shoulder. "I'm home! I brought your favorite Bulgarian fragrance seeds. Julian asked me to say hello."
"Leo..." My nose stung. I hugged him tight.
"Little punk."
Lucien strode forward, ruffling Leo's hair into complete chaos, gray eyes full of pride and undisguised amusement.
"Well done, little monster." Lucien laughed lowly. "Finally someone can handle that little demon."
Leo straightened his messy hair, rolling his eyes—exactly like Lucien—taking my hand helplessly.
"Every force has its match. Father, you spoil her too much. Leave her to me from now on."
I leaned against Lucien's chest, breathing a long sigh of relief. My family had finally achieved true perfection.