“They won’t bother,” she replies calmly, stamping out her cigarette in her cup. “Little shits don’t give a fuck about their parents. Every time you visit, these old farts start to whine about not seeing their children and grandchildren for ages. It makes me want to ask you to stop coming here. I don’t know how much longer I can endure listening to this crap.”
I lift the cup of cold coffee from the table and take a sip, welcoming a wave of bitterness. “That’s sad, but it won’t stop me from coming here.”
She remains silent for a moment, watching me finish my coffee. “How’s your dickhead of a father doing? Same old thing?”
When I put the cup down, her fingers touch the bruise on my nose, triggering a surge of pain. I grimace and turn my head to the side, evading her touch. “Same old. Up to his ears in work.”
She snorts. “The motherfucker owns the entire Cathedral City, yet it’s still not enough for him. I never understood what Millie saw in him. Greedy piece of shit.”
I stay silent, at a loss for words. According to the memories Grandma shared, my parents were madly in love. I can’t deny the love my father had for Mom—not after seeing how devastated he was when she died. Not a day goes by without hearing him tell me I’m unworthy and that he blames me for her death. If he didn’t love her, he wouldn’t act like this.
“You holding up?” A nudge on my shoulder jolts me from my thoughts. “How long have you been clean?”
Nothing irritates me more than when a conversation takes a turn like this. I don’t like lying to her, and it’s fucking pointless. She’s always had a knack for reading people. “A day.”
She leans back in her seat, crisscrossing her feet. “Good. How are you feeling?”
Like I’m burning from the inside, and my body itches with the urge to do something—whether it’s cracking my joints or smashing my fucking skull against the wall next to us.“I’m fine.”
A welcome distraction comes as my phone starts ringing, cutting off the unpleasant conversation. Exhaling in relief, I pull it from my pocket without checking who’s calling. “Yes?”
“Your car is on fucking fire,” Dad shouts, his voice drowning in the chaos around him—the splashing of water, the wailing of sirens, and the screams of panicked people.
My eyes dart around as I struggle to comprehend what the fuck he is talking about. “What? Which one?”
“Your precious Bugatti, you fucking idiot. Get over here and handle the mess. I can’t have any unwanted attention right now.”
With that, he hangs up. I pull the phone from my ear and pinch the bridge of my nose, the confusion in my mind growing thicker by the second. This is absurd. How the fuck did it catch fire?
“What happened?” Grandma asks, tilting her head as she gauges my reaction.
“I have no fucking idea,” I reply, getting up to snatch my blazer from the chair. I lean down to kiss her forehead before adding, “Something’s definitely gone wrong. I’ll call you later. Try not to rob anyone else while I’m gone.”
With that, I turn and stride toward the exit, my anxiety flaring up with each step.
“Show me the footage,”I demand from Antonio, the guard who was supposed to watch this place while it was empty. The idiot chose to take a piss right when everything happened.
His fingers tremble as he opens the app, revealing the camera footage from the evening. The tension radiating from him is palpable; I can hear his heavy breathing, and to be honest, it pisses me the fuck off. He’s shaking like a leaf with fear, and while I’m not planning on killing him—not today, at least—I won’t leave this job to him. He fucked up, and he’s about to be fired.
It’s not that I usually get attached to things, but fuck it, I loved that car. The emptiness in my chest howled when I stepped into the yard and saw it reduced to a fucking crisp.
It’s completely, irrevocably destroyed. Sure, I can buy a new one, but it won’t feel the same. That car was the first dream I ever achieved. Dad never allowed me to lean on him for support; I had to earn my way as if I were his employee. No benefits—nothing at all. Chloe always counted in the firm, but never worked a day, leaving me to carry both her weight and my own, and I earned everything I fucking have, including that car.
“I’ll… I’ll rewind it?—”
“Get the fuck up,” I bark, waving my hand dismissively. My patience evaporates entirely, and anger sweeps through me like wildfire, engulfing me from within and without. I managed to keep my cool around Grandma, but now I’m back to my usual state of frustration.
I could’ve spent more time with her—just in fucking peace—but apparently, a person like me doesn’t deserve a single moment of tranquility.
Gripping Antonio by the shoulder, I shove him away. “You’re fucking fired,” I add, dropping into the chair and turning my attention to the cameras. I can feel him wanting to mumble his pathetic excuses, but thankfully, he’s smart enough to keep them to himself. As soon as I hear the door click shut behind me, I narrow my eyes and scroll through the footage to find the right timestamp.
A silhouette emerges from the darkness, jogging swiftly across the street. I switch to the other camera capturing the yard and watchherclimb over the fence, moving closer to my car. A jolt of electricity races through me as I recognize her—the tattoo snaking up her hand and the long, sharp nails leave no doubt in my mind. She flicks on a lighter, and for a brief moment, the flame illuminates her face. Even in the dim lighting and the low quality of the footage, I can see the smirk curling on her lips.
My body goes cold, and I stop paying attention to my car. In an instant, it becomes my least concern. My focus shifts entirely, my eyes glued to her while I struggle to blink. She watches the flames dance, clearly enjoying the chaos, then turns to me, pulls down her hood, and gives me the middle finger.
Venetia fucking Ross. Of course. I shouldn’t be surprised that she knows about my prized possession and recognizes the perfect moment to strike. She’s the cunning snake who knows everything about everyone, especially her enemies. That bitch is an expert manipulator, extracting information that seems impossible to get.
Leaning closer to the monitor, I press the button to rewind the video, pausing it on her face as it captures the pure amusement in her eyes that shines through. My fist clenches as I stare, anger flooding my consciousness like a hot, prickling tide.
