Page 7 of Raging Inferno

“Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m promising you,” he says with a curt shake of his head before turning his attention back to me and the dean. “Again, where is my daughter?”

“I will get her,” the dean says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Ms. Moscato, will you make sure Mr. Casale signs the detention papers?”

“Sure,” I say, taking the papers from his hand. I pull a pen from the drawer and offer it to Gabriella’s father. As he signs the suspension forms, I glance at Mrs. Liconti. Halfway out the door, she hikes her purse over her shoulder and turns to Jimmy.

“This isn’t my fault,” she adds before walking out of the office. The door slams behind her and I draw in a deep breath as I divert my eyes back to Mr. Casale.

“I apologize for that,” he says, handing me back the papers. For a moment I wonder if by that he means Mrs. Liconti or the entire exchange, including his part in it. Putting the cap back on the pen, he narrows his eyes before pointing it at me.

“Have we met before?”

“No,” I reply.

“You look very familiar,” he continues.

“Maybe we’ve passed each other in the halls during parent-teacher conferences,” I suggest. Feeling the intensity of his stare, my hand fumbles as I shove the form into the folder and push back my chair.

“Maybe,” he agrees, pausing for a beat. “Ms. Moscato?”

“Yes?”

“My daughter will graduate with her class,” he says hoarsely, causing me to meet his gaze.

There is a whole lot reflected in his eyes but the thing that shines the most is regret. Maybe I was wrong to judge him and Mrs. Liconti. After all, I don’t know their story or how fate may have derailed the path they were on and I never did understand how love could turn to hate. What I do know for certain is the man standing in front of me loves his daughter and aside from the guilt seeping from his irises there is also determination.

“I hope so,” I reply.

The door to the office opens and the dean returns with Gabriella in tow. Obviously drunk, she sways in the doorway as her eyes find her father.

“Shit,” she mutters.

“Yeah,” he grunts, walking toward her.

“Where’s mommy?”

“She’s sitting this one out, kid. It’s you and me,” he says, taking hold of her elbow. Glancing over his shoulder, his gaze darts from the dean to me.

“Thank you,” he mutters. His stare lingers for a moment before he shakes his head and turns to his daughter. Once they’re out of sight, I turn to the dean.

“Well, that went well,” he says sarcastically.

I don’t respond as I grab the folder from the desk and make my way to my own office. Passing the window, I spot the firetruck outside and watch as Jimmy helps his daughter climb inside. It is quite the sight and for some odd reason, I smile. It’s not forced or fake. It’s a genuine smile that takes me by surprise and causes me to raise my fingertips to my lips.

The firetruck pulls away and I make my way to my desk. The picture of Christopher stares back at me and the smile falls from my lips.

The perfect man.

My perfect love.

A sudden twist of fate.

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