Chapter 55 Adeline
Adeline’s POV
I was suddenly confused as to the angle she had taken the conversation to.
"What are you talking about, Lucia?"
"You’ve secured your position, yes?" Lucia asks, leaning across the table, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The trust fund? The inheritance? You wouldn't want Percy to be cut out after all he’s built."
I really look at her, and the mask of the doting mother has slipped to reveal something I can't put my hands on just yet.
"Richard isn't going to cut me out," Percy says, frowning. He looks offended by the suggestion, and I'm glad I wasn't the only one who thought it was weird. "I’m his son, in every way that matters."
"Of course, of course, but legalities don't care about your emotions. You of all people should know that," Lucia says quickly, patting his hand to soothe him. "I just want to make sure Adeline understands that being an Akilov is a legal status, not just a name. It needs to be protected."
I don't know what she expects me to say, so I just smile at her impassively. "I'm not worried about the money, Lucia. I have my own career, too." It's like she wants me to know I'm nothing until I am legally married to him.
Lucia’s smile tightens at the edges at my response, and I can tell that's not what she wants me to say. Maybe she was even expecting me to put up a fight?
"How romantic," she sighs. "As long as you know love can only do so much in a marriage."
"It does," Percy says firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Adeline is my partner in everything."
I feel a flush of warmth at his defense, but Lucia recovers instantly. "I just can't believe how much you're like my Marco. So stubborn and romantic, but look where all those ideals got him." We all know what she's implying, but before anyone can say anything about it. She makes a point of looking at her watch. I don't know much about watches, but I know enough that the one on her wrist is a very expensive one.
"I should go," Lucia says, gathering her purse. "My hotel is all the way in Midtown."
"You’re staying at the Plaza?" Percy asks.
"The Pierre," she corrects, lowering her eyes like she has been wronged. "It’s expensive, I know, but I wanted to be close to you even if it stretches my budget."
I stare at the diamond watch on her wrist. Stretch her budget? I look at Percy, but he doesn't see what I see. As a matter of fact, he looks guilty that sacrifices are being made for him.
"I’ll manage," she adds bravely. "Seeing you was worth every penny."
"I can send the car for you tomorrow," Percy offers immediately, stepping right into the trap. "We can grab lunch."
"I would love that," she beams as she walks towards him to kiss his cheeks. "My handsome boy. I am so glad I came back."
She turns to my mother. "It was lovely to meet you, Melissa."
My mother just grunts into her wine glass, not bothering to fake her displeasure. "Whatever."
The room feels emptier when Lucia leaves the room, but the tension remains in the room. I let out a long breath.
"Well," I say. "That was intense."
"She’s trying," Percy says quickly and defensively. "She gave me up to give me a better life. It couldn't have been easy for her to come back here and see all this."
"She asked a lot of questions about the money, Percy, our relationship, and the will." I say gently, trying to let him see how he might be letting his feelings lead in this. Questions like these are not what a mother that hasn't seen her son in more than two decades would be asking.
"She’s worried," he shrugs, loosening his tie as he walks to the window. "She knows Richard can be ruthless. She just wants to make sure I’m safe."
I look at him and see the hope in his eyes. This is him trying to latch on to his roots in any way he can. He wants a mother so badly that he’s willing to ignore the red flags waving in his face. If I push this now and tell him that his mother definitely has ulterior motives, he will only see me as jealous and unhappy for him.
"Yeah," I say finally. "Maybe."
"Ilya is out there," he murmurs. "Mason is in a cell, and my biological mother is back."
He turns to me with a small relieved smile on his face. "For the first time in weeks, I feel a sense of completeness. Maybe she’s right, bringing the family together is exactly what we need."
I force a bright smile back. "Maybe," I lie because I don't think their definition of bringing the family together is the same.
Three days after Lucia got to town, she's been dropping by the penthouse to check on the situation. I didn't know there was a situation, and the penthouse that was once my sanctuary of silence has now been invaded by her expensive perfume.
Three days of her offering to help me with the wedding planning and the house renovations that she was sure I had neglected while working.
Because I can't leave her all alone in the penthouse, Percy has approved my working from home, so here I am presently, trying to review a contract for a merger. My head is still pounding from the stress of showing up in the police station to file new charges against Mason and Ilya for the manhunt, there's also the added stress that Tiny’s constant presence gives me. All in all, I'm ready to scream, and yet, I still have to babysit Lucia as she flips through catalogues to help us find the perfect fit for our brownstone.
"Hmm, this is charming." She says as she traces the layout of the main bedroom, except I don't think she thinks it's charming at all. She uses the word as one would describe a painting by a toddler.
"It’s a historic preservation," I say, not looking up from my laptop. "We want to keep the original structure of the house."
"Of course," she smiles. "Old bones are so... sturdy. But Adeline, cara, have you considered the staff quarters? This layout barely leaves room for a live-in nanny, let alone a housekeeper."
I said, "We weren't planning on a live-in staff, Lucia. We want our privacy."
Lucia laughs, and for some reason, her light laughter makes me want to haul myself off a building.
"Privacy is a luxury for the poor, darling. You will need help, especially when you start hosting. Richard used to host dinners for forty people on a Tuesday. Do you cook for forty people?"
"No," I admit. "I can always order catering."
"Catering," she sighs, as if I just insulted her. "Well. I suppose that’s the modern way. Impersonal but efficient." She closes the binder with a soft snap. "I’m just worried, Adeline. You’re taking on so much with the firm and the house renovations, not to mention the threats. I'm afraid you won't be able to handle all that."