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My fingers dug into Quentin’s wrists as I struggled to pull them away. My vision spotted, blurring the alleyway lights hanging above me.
Two shots rang out, then the man’s grip loosened before he slumped.
I shoved him off of me, catching my breath. My lungs screamed in celebration.
Liam helped me to my feet, a cocky smile on his lips.
“I would’ve been able to handle him…" I mumbled under my breath.
Liam only laughed, slapping my back. If it came to it, I would have.
Chapter 3
Audry
Igrumbled as the banging on my door continued. The sound was like a jackhammer, assaulting my ears with each thump; a horrendous violent outburst.
What did the door ever do to them?I thought as I lingered in the twilight sleep. As I lay in bed, trying my hardest to ignore it, the cacophony continued, blending with the monsters that lurked in the shadows of my nightmares. I burrowed my head further into my bed, being met with the musty scent of my unwashed sheets.
“Go away,” I grumbled into my pillow.
But whoever it was didn’t go away.
I dragged my tired ass from the warmth, safety, and comfort of my bed to the door. My small studio apartment wasn’t that big of a hike, but it may have been miles. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and peered through the peephole.
Adrenaline shot through my insides as I stared at my father, his look disapproving. His piercing eyes were darker than usual under the hallway lighting. His tanned skin contrasted against the dull walls stained with age. As he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his shoes squeaked on the tiled floor. The smell of cigarette smoke and old, sharp cologne seeped from the otherside of the door, making me feel lightheaded. But I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his ridiculous slicked-back haircut that seemed to defy gravity as it stood tall and stiff like a statue.
“Fuck,” I muttered a bit too loud. I glanced around the apartment, wishing I was a witch capable of cleaning the entire thing with the snap of my fingers. My heart thundered in my chest. Unfortunately, magic wasn’t real.
Instead, I held my breath, praying he’d go away, assuming I wasn’t home.
“Audry Grace Santora,” he started. “Open the door this instant.”
I undid the deadbolt and reluctantly opened the door.
My father burst in, his panties in a bunch.
“Where the hell have you been, young lady?” my father’s voice boomed, piercing through the silence of my apartment. “Your mother’s been worried sick about you. She has been calling and?—”
His gaze dragged over the state of my apartment.
The pungent smell of stale takeout boxes mixed with the sour stench of liquor made evenmystomach turn. The floor was littered with a ridiculous amount of party trash that crinkled under our feet as we walked. I could feel my father’s disappointment emanating from him like a tangible force, his face falling as he took in the scene before him.
“I—” My mouth dropped open, but the words wouldn’t work. I crossed my arms, running my fingers along the flesh of my bicep. “My phone must’ve died,” I whispered, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“Audry…I…” My father, the man who doesn’t deal with emotions, unless they involved a verbal beating, was at a loss for words. He stood there, dumbfounded and uncomfortable. But, in an instant, it was gone, replaced with his scowl and the ‘Santora’ mask.
That was who we were, the Santora’s, owners of the Santora Hotel—basically empire. My family owned most of this city—correction, my parents did.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my phone from the counter. It was indeed dead.
“You missed the interview today,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He refused to look at me.
“That’s on Monday.” I shook my head as I half-mindedly began picking up. The scrutiny with which my father watched me made my skin crawl. The stupid interview was with Sampson, our head of security, and the city officials. It was another item on a list of to-dos my mother had concocted for me to ‘better learn the business’ and ‘be introduced to the right people’. Honestly, I’d be happy to miss it. But, knowing her, it’d be the end of the world.
“It’s Tuesday.”
I froze, wiping the trash from the counter into the can below. “Very funny, Dad.”
