Page 25 of The Devil's Deal

I have no desire to end up in prison or be forced to snitch on my father and get killed for it. He wouldn’t even hesitate. He might even pull the trigger himself.

Pushing a button, I turn on my laptop to look over the club’s finances for the month. We’re in the black, just how dear old Dad likes it. If he thought for one second that I couldn’t handle running his place, I’d be in a white dress already, exchanging vows with a man I don’t know.

Tapping a few more keys, I check on my current liquor order, making sure all the shipments are on time. If they weren’t, they’d lose my business quickly. I pay them enough to ensure prompt service.

Finally done, I shut my laptop and lean against the back of my chair, stretching out my feet beneath the high-heeled black over-the-knee boots I’m wearing.

Knowing I have some free time, I decide to call my aunt Kirsten, my mom’s sister. She lives alone, and I know she’ll be up at midnight, being that she’s an author who prefers to write in the solitude of the night.

I feel awful knowing she has no one in that house of hers. She was married once, a long time ago, to a man who preferred to beat her instead of love her, causing severe damage to her ovaries when he kicked her one too many times. She can’t have kids as a result.

It took her years to leave him, and she never found anyone again. I think it was my mother’s disappearance that gave her the courage to finally pack her bags and go. As sad as that is, knowing what my mom was going through and fearing her sister’s death at the hand of an abusive man gave my aunt a glimpse into a future she could have.

At least that’s what I think. She never outright told me any of this when she shared stories about the horror she’d endured.

Picking up my cell off the desk, I dial her number, and she answers on the second ring.

“Hey, Chiara,” she yawns.

“Hey, Auntie. Up writing?”

“You know it,” she laughs with another yawn.

“I don’t know how you manage to write your scary stuff in the middle of the night. I still have nightmares after your last book. I can’t step foot into a bank without wondering if one of the tellers will look me up and murder me. Thanks for that.”

“Hey, it was a bestseller for a reason,” she tosses out with a smile in her voice.

She’s so talented. I can’t believe we’re related. If I tried to write a book, I probably couldn’t even put two exciting sentences together.

“Enough about me,” she throws in. “How are you? Are you at the club?”

My office is soundproof, which is great, since I don’t actually want to hear what’s happening out there. Unless a customer gets handsy with my girls, then it’s a bad day for Mr. Asshole.

I could let my bouncers handle it, but I like to show my face. I want those dickheads to know a woman runs this place, and she won’t allow any of them to shit on any woman who works here.

“Yep. Just another day in the office.” I lift my feet, placing them on top of my desk, ankles crossed.

“I really wish that asshole father of yours would leave you the hell alone. And if he’s fucking listening, fuck you, Faro. I know you can’t see it, but I’ve got a middle finger with your name on it.”

I choke on a laugh. The kind you feel in your soul. The kind that brings you warmth.

“I love you,” I tell her.

“I wish you could come see me soon. I really miss you, Chiara. It’s been months.”

She’s right, it has. I’m so glad we’re close now. As a child, I never saw her, but that’s because my father wouldn’t let Mom and me visit her. He dictated everything Mom did. Every friend she had. She couldn’t go anywhere without one of his men chauffeuring her around. She wasn’t even allowed to drive. He controlled everything, from what she ate to what she wore.

My father despises my aunt all due to her hatred of him. But who in the hell wouldlikehim?

I had her number saved back from when Mom gave it to me in case of emergencies.

“Your aunt is the only one you can trust. Remember that, baby,” she’d say.

Even at a young age, I knew that number was important, so I kept it hidden.

My aunt and I got pretty close after Mom disappeared, and we now speak at least once a week behind my father’s back. I’m glad I have her in my life. She makes me feel a little closer to my mom.

When I was younger, I’d find a way to meet her whenever I had a break between my classes in high school. Dad had no idea. At least I don’t think he did, since he never mentioned it. It’s unlike him not to gloat when he’s caught someone doing something they shouldn’t. When I couldn’t see her, we’d talk via email. I was afraid if I called her, he’d find out.

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