Page 102 of The Diávolos: Part Two
“It’snothing?” she shouts. “Evan, you bought me a freaking car!”
I shrug. “I know how important it is for you to gain your independence, but I want you to be safe, so I got you anindestructiblecar.”
Really, it’s nothing. Buying Angelica that car has been a long time coming. Spending the money didn’t dent my wallet whatsoever. I’ve been getting it modified for months. There’s no way I’ll let her go around in a normal,unsafecar now that she’s my wife.
Angelica’s mouth is slack from shock, but her eyes are glassy, tears brimming at the rims.
Then, her gaped mouth turns into a frown. “I don’t know how to drive.”
I chuckle. “I’ll teach you. I’d do anything for you, angel.”
A smile forms on her face—it’s radiant, lighting her up.
I bring her an actual plate of food and set it in front of her.
“Let’s eat, then I’ll show you your new ride.”
An hour later, we’re in the underground garage of Saintville.
Angelica’s energy is palpable, she’s bouncing around like the Energizer Bunny.
We walk the short distance from the elevator to the parking spots lined up against the concrete wall.
There sits her brand-new BMW 7. It’s armored to provide the highest level of protection from attacks ranging from street crime to explosive devices. We may sell weapons that cause destruction, but we’re also pros at avoiding and protecting ourselves from them.
Dion is our in-house mass destruction specialist, so he helped me build this car for Angelica.
I unlock the doors and give Angelica the keys. “Check it out.”
Just like a kid on Christmas Day, Angelica runs toward it at full speed. I can’t help but laugh.
“Slow down, gorgeous. The whole point of this car is tonothurt yourself.”
“Evan, it’s beautiful,” she exclaims with so much enthusiasm. “Thank you so much. I can’t believe you did this!”
She opens the door and slips into the driver’s seat. I bend down to help her adjust the chair and mirrors, then shut the door to join her on the passenger side.
“Are you ready to try it out?”
She nods eagerly.
“Alright, baby. Turn the car on and put it in reverse.”
Teaching Angelica how to drive is proving more difficult than I thought.
“Christé mou!” I yell as Angelica jerks her brand-new car to a stop in the parking garage.
We still haven’t left the underground and she’s almost driven into the poles six times, and it’s only been twenty-five minutes. I rub my temples and take a deep breath in.
Angelica chews on her bottom lip, causing it to redden and swell.
“I’m sorry! I have no idea what I’m doing.”
I just want to kiss her nervousness away, so I do.
Grabbing Angelica’s chin between my thumb and index finger, I bring her mouth to mine. As soon as she feels me lean in, the tension in her body dissipates.
“I have an idea,” I say when I break off. “Why don’t I show you how it’s done first?”
