Page 145 of Flawed

Sophia steps outside, forcing a smile. "Connie, I'm really sorry for the disturbance. We're having a little family issue. Everything's fine. Please go back inside."

Connie's leer shifts between Massimo and Sophia. She claims, "This is not something that should happen in our building."

Massimo groans.

Sophia steps closer to her. "Yes, I know. I'm very sorry. Please forgive us. You won't hear from us again." She spins, points to the door, and orders, "Inside. All of you. Now."

We obey and she shuts the door. "Sit," she instructs to all of us.

None of us move.

"I said to sit," she warns.

Massimo and Pierre take a seat on the sofa. It's the same furniture I bought Chanel years ago. I stare at it.

Sophia declares, "You, too, Luca."

I tear my gaze off the furniture and lock my eyes on Zara. She looks so distraught and confused. I can't blame her. And I hate that she's hurting so much.

I want to tug my daughter to me and tell her it'll all be okay. The fear that I may never be able to do that ignites, and it's more painful than I ever anticipated.

That pain multiplies. She's so grown up. She's almost fifteen, and I've missed everything. I wasn't present for all her birthdays, special occasions, and little milestones that kids go through. She knew nothing about me the entire time, and all I see is the sorrow that caused her.

I should have been there to protect her.

I would have loved her.

I could have made different decisions in my life.

Chanel never gave me the chance.

Rage builds within me. It spins like a hurricane and makes me nauseous. I swallow down bile, not able to take my eyes off Zara.

Sophia steps next to Zara. She circles her arm around her waist and snaps, "Sit down, Luca!"

I swallow more bile.

She turns to Zara. "Ma choupinette, why don't you go to your room?"

Zara lifts her chin, declaring, "No, I'm not going to my room."

"The adults need to talk," Sophia claims.

Zara's eyes glow hotter. She explodes, "I will not be left in the dark any longer! Enough with the secrets! I'm not leaving this room!"

Sophia's eyes turn into slits. "Zara—"

"She can stay," I interject.

Sophia gapes at me then asserts, "This is not your decision."

Pride sweeps me. Zara isn't just beautiful. She's able to stand up for herself and isn't afraid of the truth.

I seethe at Sophia, "Hell, if it's not. She'smydaughter." I lock eyes with Zara and soften my tone. "Go sit down if you want to stay."

She slowly makes her way to the couch, and more guilt consumes me.

Who protected her when she needed it?

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