Page 8 of The Devil's Fire

Cara looked over her shoulder and gave me a confused expression. I looked around and realized that the rest of the group had disappeared too.

“Uh...” I trailed in confusion.

“Althaia.”

I shivered again as I faced Damiano, who already had his eyes set on me. He reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes, offering me one.

“Oh, no, thank you.”

“Good choice.” He gave me a small smirk and held the packet up to his mouth, took a cigarette between his lips, all while looking into my eyes. There was something about the way he did it that was incredibly hot.

“So, Althaia.” Damiano spoke while he lit up his cigarette and took a long drag from it. “You look awfully well for a dead person.” He spoke, blowing out smoke.

“I’m sorry, what?” I shook my head like I didn't hear him right.

“Your file says you’re dead.” He continued as if it was the most normal thing to say and blew the smoke right into my face.

I waved the smoke away and frowned at him.

“What are you talking about? I think you have me confused with someone else.” I chuckled awkwardly.

“Althaia Volante, twenty-four years old, born on November seventh because her parents fucked on Valentine’s Day. You died instantly in a car accident on New Year’s Eve three years ago.” He said, inhaling from his cigarette as my expression fell.

“Usually, dead people don’t look this good.” Damiano gave me another look-over.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Besides, my name is not Volante. It’s Celano. Big difference. You must have me confused with someone else because I’m pretty sure I’m not dead. Obviously.” I gestured to myself as I was literally standing in front of him in the flesh.

“Obviously.” He finished his cigarette, and my eyes followed the bud as he flicked it away. I glanced back at him, seeing his eyes lingering on my necklace between my breasts.

Damiano reached out to touch my necklace, and I reflexively stepped back. His eyes locked onto mine, giving me a warning look, like he was telling me to stay still.

“However, you are wearing the Volante heirloom around your neck.” He stepped closer to me and my heart beat faster when his hand trailed up and held my chin. I swallowed hard as he tilted my head slightly upward so I could meet his eyes.

His face was getting closer to me, like he was going to kiss me, and my eyes went wide. But Damiano moved his head at the last second, his bearded cheek brushed against mine as he stopped by my ear.

“Makes me wonder why your father is hiding you from me.” He whispered, and it sent a chill down my spine.

Damiano slightly stepped back and dropped his hand to his side. He shot a look over my shoulder and my stomach dropped in fear when I saw his expression.

So deadly and fucking feral.

I had to get away from him.

I spun around to leave, but halted in my steps as I came face-to-face with my father.

“Papá.” I breathed out in shock. It was strange seeing him in front of me after so long, and though we hadn't kept in touch, my heart still missed him.

“What are you doing here?” My father snapped at me, absolutely livid.

My heart squeezed. I guess the feelings were not mutual.

“What, you don’t want to see your daughter? Don’t worry, I’m not here for you.” I frowned back.

Everybody stopped and stared at us. Wasn’t that just fucking lovely? They were all witnessing a shitty father and daughter reunion. He clearly didn’t want me here, and it made me feel like shit.

Great, so the worst that could happen, happened.

I crossed my arms, shoving my feelings away as I was about to leave, but stopped when Michael’s tense form moved forward to stand behind my father, posing as a bodyguard.

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