Page 88 of Bad Blood
“Cereza…” he counters, his tone thickening with reverence as he speaks his name for her.
“It’s fine,mamá,” I murmur, becausefuck that.I’m a grown man. I don’t need anyone fighting my battles. “There wasn’t time to invite anyone.” I glance at Thalia, reaching for her hand under the table, more for solidarity than anything else.
As soon as my skin touches her, she jerks it away.
Orgasms are not concessions, in her book.
Noted.
“...From either side,” I finish, glaring straight at my father.
“You’ll have to excuse my son, Thalia,” he says smoothly. “He seems to have forgotten his manners. Please... tell us about yourself.” He pins her with a lethal stare. “You are, after all,familynow.”
The insult is unspoken, but it’s loud and clear. Thalia will never be a part of our family, in this life or the next.
I slam my wine glass down, but my retort dies on my tongue when I catch Thalia shaking her head at me. “Santi, it’s fine. Your father has every right to be curious about me. And every right to have his question answered.”
I know she’s putting on a show to hold up her end of our agreement, and I can tell she’s nervous from the slight edge to her voice. Thalia isn’t afraid to stand up for herself, but her bravery has limits, and those limits have a distinct tell:
The sharper her words, the greater her fear.
All her life, she’s been taught to hate the very people she’s being forced to make polite conversation with tonight. I expected tantrums. What I’m receiving is fucking Oscar-worthy.
Is it for her, or for me?
We made a deal, but somewhere along the line the terms started blurring
“I’m nineteen,” she says, glancing around the table, meeting everyone’s curious eyes in turn, even the ones flashing unwelcome signs at her. “I moved to Manhattan to be with my older sister, Ella, a year ago”
“Do you attend college, or does your father not allow it?”
“College isn’t my thing,” she admits, ignoring the jab. “I lasted one semester.”
The contradiction of that acerbic tongue and innocent appearance holds me captive. I couldn’t look away, even if I wanted to.
“And what is your ‘thing,’SeñoritaSantiago?”
“SeñoraCarrera,” she corrects softly.
What the fuck?
My father leans forward as if he’s misheard, but his brief glance my way has all the charm of a razor blade. “What was that?”
“You called meSeñoritaSantiago,” says Thalia, meeting his gaze. As you pointed out, I’m part of the family now, and that includes my name.”
Lola’s jaw drops.
My mother laughs softly.
My dick turns to stone.
But my father’s jaw ticks as he says, “Lo siento,SeñoraCarrera. My apologies.”
“And my ‘thing’ as you put it,” she adds sweetly. “Well, I guess I’m still figuring that out. All I know is that there’s a lot of ruin in this world,Señor Carrera. Perhaps, some things need to be put right.”
I’m not sure if I want to hold my hand over her mouth or drive my tongue into it and kiss her senseless. Other than my mother and my aunt, I’ve never seen any woman dare to stand up to my father like this.
She’s fucking fearless.
