Page 90 of Burn for Me

Her expression softens, and in an instant, she wraps her arms around my neck. I hold her close, not wanting to let go.

“I’ll invite you if you promise to bring your scary friends.”

I let out a laugh that sounds a bit choked.They're not just friends; they're family.

“Come on, ?????.” Dove jumps at Rurik's voice, and we both glare at him.

“What does that mean?” I mutter to Dove, and he rolls his eyes as we pretend he can’t hear us talking.

“Hell, if I know, and I'm not going to figure it out.” she huffs.

“Watch it. My name was just cleared, which means your family owes me,” he says in a low voice. I wince for Dove, but she only growls in frustration in response. I can only imagine what that means. If he’s been innocent this whole time, then he must have gone through hell for years for no reason. There’s no telling how many hits his business or social standing took.

“Good lu—”

My words are abruptly cut off by a scratchy, deep, hoarse voice that tightens my shoulders and churns my stomach.

“I should’ve known you were the cause! I swear, Bravetti, you’ll regret this!”

The voice grows louder the closer it gets. Dove and I shrink back while Rurik maintains a blank, unamused expression. He pulls out a cigarette and places it between his lips.

“Jasmine,” Sam calls out, his voice a beacon calling me home. When I turn to run and seek refuge in his arms, I collide with a plush surface, and meaty hands encircle my biceps.

I don’t need to look up to recognize the familiar scent of stale cigarette smoke. I know it isn’t from the stick Rurik just lit; this smell is different, as if it had emerged from an old, creaky desk with chipped legs—a surface I used to pick at when I was bored during long business days.

I lift my gaze, keeping my head tilted down. My dad's face is filled with confusion as he studies me. Then, the realization hits, deepening the lines on his skin as anger takes over.

I lack the energy to argue, so I lower my head again. He loosens his grip on me until it’s completely gone. Gravel crunches under his boots, and people chat among themselves all around us. I expected him to turn red from yelling, accuse me of putting Dove in danger, question why I hadn’t informed him I was here, or even scold me for not providing enough information. Instead, I was taken aback by how quickly he chose to shun me. I could have anticipated that reaction from my mother if she were here, but not from him.

“Not ONE but BOTH of my daughters?! I swear, boy, once I get my hands on you—”

My attention is immediately drawn as I wrap my hand around my dad's arm while Dove jumps in front of an unbothered Rurik. I swear, he has a death wish at this rate.

“This wasn’t him!” I blurt out before I even realize what I'm saying. He remains unmovable despite my efforts to tug at his expensive suit jacket. It reminds me of when I was a child, trying to stop him from seeing my favorite dolls in the fireplace because of my mother's anger.

Thankfully, Dove does what she does best–glares at my father, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her foot like a prissy mafia princess.

“Where are my letters?” she demands, her voice cutting through the tension. The question seems to throw him off his rage-fueled fit. Slowly, he straightens his back and adjusts the collar of his suit.

“In the office,” he replies, his tone bleak and barely audible before he tilts his head toward me.

I let go and step back, ready to leave before things turn into a war between the mobs; I've had enough battle time for now. But my father's clipped voice stops me: “I didn’t tell you that you could leave yet.”

Rurik flicks his cigarette to the ground and stomps it out with the toe of his shiny shoe.

“When you’re ready to discuss business, you know where to find me. You have a lot to make up for, Mr. O'Hanson,” he says, patting Dove’s head.

“And why don’t I have them?” Dove snaps at my father, delivering a harsh slap to Rurik's wrist, making him huff as he steps away. My father cups her cheeks despite her protests, checking to ensure she’s genuinely okay.

“Because Melione was in a private place. The smallest thing could have put her in danger. If they knew what she was doing or what she was writing…” My dad trails off and turns toward me, causing me to stumble back. He still looks angry. Even though I want to appreciate that he might be concerned for my safety, I don’t want one of his lectures.

He steps forward, and before I can react, his hand wraps around the nape of my neck, holding me in place as he examines my soot-covered, tattered clothing.

“Let’s go home. We’ll get you cleaned up and looked at. Everything’s okay now.” His words catch me off guard, drawing my attention back to him. Instead of feeling relieved that he still loves me like any father should, I’m stuck. That place isn’t myhome anymore. It stopped being my home when he allowed my mother to send me to England.

“Your mother will want to see you.” It sounds like he's trying to bribe me, but that was a terrible line to throw out. He realizes this due to the synchronized scoff between Dove and myself.

“Fine.Iwant to see you.” he concedes.

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