Chapter two
446 Words
“Why, Father? There’s nothing special about Ivy. So why her?”
“Lucy. End this conversation right now.”
Dad’s voice rang out like an order.
“Lucy, calm down,” lucas said.
Mom was next. Her voice soft, like she was talking her down.
“Yes, honey, calm down. Maybe your uncle has a reason. You know he can be unpredictable sometimes.”
Lucy scoffed. “I want one.”
“Then one you shall get. Problem solved.”
Dad’s voice was flat. Final.
And just like that, everyone kept eating.
Like Lucy never shouted about the car.
Like I wasn’t the reason she had to shout at all.
*Daniel Holloway POV – Mr. Holloway*
“Honey, you good?” my wife asked.
“You know getting Lucy the same car will make Lorenzo angry.”
“I know, Natasha. I know. It’s just getting suspicious.”
Whenever Lorenzo got Ivy anything, he made sure no one else had it. Not even us. His family.
He made it clear: _“If Ivy gets a pink pen, I expect her to be the only one who has it. No one should ever get the same thing she has.”_
Since then, we’ve followed his orders.
But Lucy started getting agitated.
Ivy’s a good girl. We do love her.
But we can’t cross a line.
Natasha set her wine glass down. She didn’t look at me.
“Daniel,” she said quietly. “We crossed the line the day we accepted to take her in ”
I flinched.
“You think I don’t know how this looks?” She finally turned to me, eyes tired.
“The cars. The doctors. The homeschooling. The fact that she’s never spent one night away from this house.”
“Then why—”
“Because he’s Lorenzo De Medici ,” she cut me off. Voice barely a whisper.
“Because when he said _‘she’s mine’_ in that hospital room, 5 years ago after the accident , he wasn’t asking. He was telling.”
She picked her glass back up.
“So yes, I’m good, Daniel. I’m good at pretending this is normal.
I’m good at telling Lucy ‘no’ when she cries for the same things.
Because stepping on Lorenzo is worst than having no money .
“There’s no issue any longer” Daniel said. “Lucy can get the car. Because Lorenzo will take his eyes off us when Ivy lives with him.”
“When does he want her?” Natasha asked.
“By the weekend.”
“Tomorrow?” My wife was dumbstruck. “So that’s why he called.”
- Writer
