Page 16 of The Devil's Fire

But that didn’t mean to land me directly into the arms of a Mafia Boss! I should pack my bags, run, and never look back. I really should. But I hate running.

Oh, and that wink he gave me last night? I am ashamed to admit that it made me hot.

“Thaia!” The constant banging on the door didn’t stop. Not even once. It just kept going with Cara on the other side as she continued to yell at me to open the door. I let out a big, frustrated groan as I rolled out ofthe bed.

“My God, Cara!” I snapped and swung the door open with my eyes half-open.

“Finally!” She exclaimed. I ignored her and returned to my bed, getting under the blanket and pulling it over my head, intending to fall asleep. I was too tired to deal with her right now.

“What are you doing? Get up!” The blanket was suddenly pulled from my body, and I was going to rip her head off.

“Cara!” I snapped again, and I sat up and searched for the blanket. “Let me sleep, it’s early!” I complained. I gave up on finding the blanket and plopped down on the bed again.

Whatever, I was tired enough to sleep like this.

“Early? It’s one in the afternoon! Let’s go get lunch.” She scoffed. “And close your legs. We can see your vajayjay.”

“Don’t fucking look then.” I hissed in annoyance.

Wait.

“We?” I asked, confused. “Who’s ‘we’?” I raised my head to look, and to my horror, Michael was present, resting his shoulder against the doorframe.

“Mornin’ to you too, Thaia.” He just stood there and smiled all innocently at me. I closed my legs and screamed.

“Turn around!” I clumsily tried to get out of bed. Cara was definitely not helping as she stood at the end of the bed, laughing so hard that tears were visible in her eyes.

I ran to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, hoping the ground would just open and swallow me.

“Your dad wants you to join a small dinner party a week from now.” Cara said, before taking a bite of her sandwich.

We were at a café, sitting outside and having a bite to eat while we enjoyed the scorching sun that was currently baking us.

“Why?” I asked, taking a sip of my second dose of iced coffee. I desperately needed caffeine today.

“There is no point in hiding you anymore, so you might as well come to the different occasions.” Michael explained.

“So, he’s just going to forget the fact that he never bothered to reach out to me all these years and expects me to be, I don’t know, okay with it?” I questioned. Even though we hugged, his lack of effort to reach out still hurt me. I longed for my dad all those years, and he clearly didn’t care.

“You have to understand where he is coming from. If he called you or showed up at your place, you might as well be dead now.” Michael shrugged as he casually explained.

“People are ruthless, Thaia. They will do anything to get what they want. The things I have witnessed.” Cara shuddered and Michael nodded in agreement, looking less bothered than Cara.

I let their words sink in as I thought about it. If all of it were true, would I have been abducted and tortured? Would they have mercilessly cut into my skin to retaliate against my father? Cut off my limbs and deliver them to his residence?

The thought of that made me sick. I didn’t know what these people were capable of.

“Are you coming then?” Cara asked with a hopeful tone.

“I can’t. I only took this week off.” I gave her an apologetic smile and received a bored look.

“You work for your mother. I’m pretty sure she can let your ass off for a few more days.”

“And because she is my mother, she is hard on me.” I pointed out. My mother took pride in her boutique and her work, and I suppose I inherited her skills as well.

I have always had a passion for drawing, and art has always fascinated me. I went to college to pursue it, but it wasn’t fulfilling in the way I wanted it to be. So, I dropped out and worked with my mother, and we turned our skills into a family-owned business.

“One time I messed up an order, and she was a second away from pulling out the wooden spoon to whoop my ass.” I scoffed at the memory. My mother was the type of person who would whoop your ass in a heartbeat with her beloved wooden spoon.

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