Chapter 31
Ajori
The clinking of silverware reverberated through the air as I sat at the dining table, surrounded by Lainey, Kyrin and my father. There was no hunger in me, only a simmering irritation, a feeling of violation, and a fierce anger bubbling just below the surface. It wasn't merely about that petty stunt Domino had pulled; it was the fact that I hadwatched,listened,andlet it get to me.
“Ajori…”
Kyrin’s voice came soft and careful, like he didn’t want to push too hard but couldn’t ignore it either.
“You okay?”
Lainey glanced up from her plate, her brows knitting together in a way that suggested she was about to chime in too. “I was just about to ask the same thing,” she said, her tone both concerned and inquisitive.
I shifted my focus between the two of them, mustering up a semblance of a smile even though it felt forced.
“Yeah, sport. I’m fine,” I lied, my voice betraying me with a tightness I hadn’t intended.
Kyrin exchanged a skeptical glance with Lainey, and she didn’t hold back her disbelief.
“Mmm,” Lainey hummed, rhythmically tapping her fork against her plate like a metronome. “You’ve got that ‘I’m fine but really I wanna fight somebody’ look.”
“I do not.”
“You absolutely do!” she insisted, turning her head toward Kyrin. “Don’t she got that look?”
Kyrin squinted at me for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yeah… a little bit.”
I exhaled sharply, then dropped my fork onto the plate with a dull clang. “Can y’all not do this right now?”
Lainey’s smirk widened, almost mischievous. “Oh, so youaremad.”
“I didn’t say that,” I retorted defensively.
“You didn’t have to.”
Dragging a hand down my face, I felt exhausted by the conversation already. “I’m just… tired,” I muttered, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.
“Uh-huh,” Lainey said, unconvinced. “Tired doesn’t make you chew invisible food.”
Kyrin let out a soft chuckle at her remark, and despite my annoyance, I almost cracked a smile. But then the memory of the night before flashed across my mind like a jarring film reel, pulling me back to reality. And just like that, my appetite was gone for real.
From across the table, my father lowered his newspaper and scrutinized my untouched plate with a furrowed brow. “Mija, is the food not to your liking?”
Before I could even gather my thoughts to answer, he snapped his fingers at one of the chefs lingering by the doorway.
“Lucía, ¿qué hiciste esta vez? That’s my daughter—don’t be playing with her taste buds!” His voice carried a mix of authority and protectiveness.
Lucía’s eyes widened, panic overtaking her features.
“No, no,” I interjected quickly, raising my hand in a placating gesture. “The food is good! I promise! I’m just… not that hungry.”
“You sure?”
I firmly nodded. “Positive.”
Right on cue, Domino swaggered in smelling expensive, and his smile radiated a charming nonchalance as if he hadn’t just been slinging dick outside my damn window less than eight hour ago like a damn peep show subscription.
“Morning, everyone,” he greeted, his tone a bit too carefree for my taste. “Bout time,” my father chuckled, relief and humor mingling in his voice. “I thought I was gonna have to send Salazar looking for you.”
