Streets of Valencia (#2 in The Billionaire Series)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Wait. I know there are people with narc parents who've done all they can to control them. So from now on when Helena appears, I'm going to put this warning *Trigger Warning: Controlling Parent*. Okay, onwards and away.

*

The sarcasm was clear.

Rodrigo's thicker brows lowered in a final understanding frown. As he watched his daughter and digested her words, it was suddenly clear he was not yet forgiven. What had he been thinking? His daughter had run from him with tears streaming down her cheeks. Did he think his daughter would come running back?

He met Helena's gaze across the table, her sharp eyes demanding he intervenes. He was suddenly caught between two equally assertive corners. Helena would never let him off if he got it wrong, but Federica would slowly pull away if she found no support where she needed.

Rodrigo had been wishing to reconnect with his daughter, not get caught in a tug of war between his wife and child.

But he considered the situation. He saw nothing wrong with Federica choosing where to go. "You can go to your party, Princesa," he said, turning to look at his daughter. Federica was late in containing a wince at the endearment. Her father noted it with the deepening crease of his frown.

"But Rodrigo!" Helena gasped, flabbergasted. Just as quickly, she composed her features before returning her attention to her daughter. "Federica, Georgina Del Gaza's parties are prominent affairs, a ticket only extravaganza. You were invited to it, and thanks to the talk I had with her mother, I've managed to include Roxana and Cynthia on the list. How do you suppose it will look when you don't even show up?" Her hands spread in exaggeration to her statement.

Federica stood up then, realizing she was in danger of getting trapped through the trickery of words. She carelessly shrugged her answer as Cynthia quickly downed the remaining contents of her third cup of juice. Federica knew she'd be running helter-skelter by the next two hours from sugar rush and adrenaline.

"For one thing, mama," Federica said, "I don't know Georgina." She walked around to the back of her father to peck his rough cheek in a silent acknowledgment of gratitude. "On another note. I say thank you for getting me out of a bubble gum and princess party filled with unicorns and tiaras."

Diego and Herman coughed into their hands as their mother stifled a snicker with a press of her nose. Helena turned to her sharply, but the other woman shrugged with a smile. Amada full out grinned. She stared across the table and met her older sister's wide eyes.

"Hello, Federica," she mouthed as their sister and her friends left the breakfast room.

*

Helena watched her daughter converse eagerly within her trio, giggling and blushing like a group of bubbly girls up to mischief. She restrained the instinct to purse her lips as her gaze narrowed on Roxana's cheeks, right after Cynthia said something.

However, she couldn't stop her narrowed gaze as Federica's own blush surfaced. What were they talking about? What was Cynthia planning now? She turned to offer a greeting smile meant to salute, not invite to the conversation.

With the party up to par with her standards, her remaining concerns were held with her family. The sting of pride and wash of anger she'd experienced earlier in the day had been doused some during the enlightening church summons. Federica had served as a firm warning where her plans were concerned: it did no one any good to underestimate the situation.

Helena understood what was happening to Federica.

She'd spent the past years in a university. It was understandable for an impressionable young girl fresh out of school to feel like the world is hers to conquer. Federica simply didn't see they were trying to protect her. There were terrible things in the world, like sharp pricking thorns, deep endless pits, and sad fates. Helena didn't want her daughter to end up where she had.
Helena felt a moment of relief when Caroline Del Gaza joined them, but her curiosity was retained when the previously enigmatically conversant group immediately became subdued.

Felicia Ontiveros stepped up beside her. She followed Helena's gaze and smiled as she found the object of her current mood. "Oh, come, Helena. Girls will be girls. They need a little space too, you know."

Still miffed with her son's brazen offer, Helena wasn't feeling comely towards her friend. However, she pushed it all under a mask and smiled down at her. "I don't recall you raising a daughter, Felicia," she paused briefly but went on promptly before her friend could answer. "Or three, for that matter."

Felicia held back a sigh. Instead, she sipped her drink as she cast her gaze to the crowd at large. Helena promptly returned to greet person after person, names flooding her mind in an organized entry and exit as she recognized faces. Some she had to duly impress, business depending on them and all, others she wasn't as obliged, but it would do no one any good if the president of the club committee and wife of such an esteemed man was a snob.

As she parted with the De Rossa, her gaze skimmed the crowd. It was just in time to spot the two towering boys. Helena's mind thought carefully as she beheld the boys she'd come to take as sons. Her smile grew as she carefully considered Juaquin.

A/N

Okay. Helena, you need to chill.... Do I suspect you trying to set up your daughter?

Just to get someone in your control? God, please don't let me become like that.

As always, greatly appreciate your support and readership. Much love right back.

Yvie.