Page 196 of Vicious Temptation

Me: Is this an official invitation, or are you just assuming I’ll show up?

The typing bubble appears almost immediately.

Thiago: Chama, we both know you’ll show up.

I laugh to myself, then lean against the bench. He’s absolutely right.

Me: Pick a movie, Braga.

It’s been two days since the ball, since I laid out my feelings and went after what I wanted, and I already miss him. His job is unpredictable. He’s on call more often than not, and there’s always some fucked-up situation unfolding somewhere in this goddamn city.

I catch myself checking my phone more than usual, wondering whether he’s eaten, sleeping enough, and whether he’s safe. Worrying about someone outside my family like this is still new to me, but I’m starting to realize I don’t mind making room for him in my life.

Remi, Remi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Setting my phone down with a sigh, I pop a lollipop into my mouth, hoping to keep my hands and mind busy until tonight, when the familiar chime of the biometric lock echoes through the garage, pulling me from my thoughts.

Papá strides in, his smile widening the moment his eyes fall on me.

“Sorry to stop by unannounced, princesa, but I was on my way home when your mom asked me to check in on you and invite you over for dinner. I’m not saying tonight, but soon.” He kisses my forehead before moving toward the open hood of the RX-7 and looking inside. “Still fighting the rotary, huh?”

I grin around my lollipop. “She started it.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“So why didn’t she stop by or call me herself?”

He looks at me for a long moment. “Why haven’t you?”

Good point.

I’m not avoiding her, and I’m not upset. I could never stay mad at her for more than a day. She’s my heart. But if there’s one person in this world I never want to disappoint, it’s Amalia Montesinos.

It's a strange thing, being the daughter of someone extraordinary. I know it's not a competition, and she's never made it one. Still, some days, her shoes feel too big to fill. She’s incredible. A leader, a survivor, and everything I ever wanted to be.

And while I know everyone looks at me and sees someone just as strong and capable, someone worthy of carrying her name, there are days when I don't feel like any of those things. Days when I feel like I'm still trying to become the woman she already was.

I swallow the knot in my throat. “Can I bring someone?”

“Of course.” He smiles, and right now, that’s all I need.

I throw my arms around him, and he squeezes me until I laugh. I tip my head back and look up at him. “I’m getting grease on your shirt.”

“It’s all right, Remi girl. You’ve been getting grease all over me since you were in diapers, following me around the garage and banging up my bike with a ratchet wrench.”

He’s not wrong.

“Now look at you.” He motions around us. “Look at everything you’ve built.” His hand cups the back of my head. “I’m proud of you, and I love you. Don’t ever forget that. And don’t ever doubt how extraordinary and beautiful you are” he adds softly, as if he somehow reached into my head and found every insecurity I try to hide.

Suddenly, I’m five again, standing in his garage with tools too big for my hands, convinced my father can fix anything.

Part of me still believes he can.

We spend the next hour talking cars and engines. I see him off with another of his Hulk hugs, and before long, I’m back under the hood, so focused on what I’m doing that I barely notice the door opening again.

“Papi, you forget something?” I ask without looking up while tightening a bolt.

“Yeah. This.”