Chapter 2

DIANA

I can't quite pinpoint what it is. Maybe I'm just weary of the incessant battles, or perhaps exhaustion has settled deep within me, and all I desire is to return home and sleep, provided Pa isn't there. So, I cease the struggle and reluctantly provide him with my address.

"Thank you. That wasn't so hard now, was it?" he remarks with a grin I'd rather lick off his face than slap away. In an effort to suppress the discomforting thoughts, I turn my gaze toward the window. But my eyes betray my intentions, relentlessly wandering back to him. His muscles, subtly defined beneath the gray long-sleeve shirt, draw my attention. Resting upon those muscles are his hands and fingers, which appear impeccably maintained. The sight of those fingers triggers a strange sensation, as I've always had a thing for well-groomed nails.

Unbeknownst to me, my stare lingers, and I'm brought back to reality by his irritating voice. "Enjoying the view? Snap a picture; it'll last longer," he taunts with a smirk that infuriates me more than it should.

"Oh, please, there's nothing remarkable," I dismiss, downplaying my interest.

"Is that so?" He leans in closer. "You've got a little something near your mouth." I move to wipe it away.

"What is it?" I peer out the window in an attempt to check my reflection.

"Drool," he announces with a chuckle. "I noticed it creeping down your face while you were looking at me." The nerve of this guy. Fuming, I huff and fix my gaze on the window, determined to ignore him until we arrive home.

"Here we go again," I mutter as we approach my house.

"What? No 'thank you'? Seriously?" He chides me when I'm halfway to the door.

Smirking, I turn to him, walking backward toward the house. "Well, I didn't ask for your help, now did I?"

Suddenly, he's beside me, causing my heart to skip a beat. "Holy molly. Dude, do you want to give me a heart attack?" I whisper-yell, my heart a beat too fast.

"That's not how you thank the kind gentleman who gave you a ride after your despicable boyfriend cheated on you and nearly strangled you," he retorts.

"Shh... Okay, okay, thank you. Happy now?" I reply through gritted teeth, my patience wearing thin.

"Who's the guy with you? Not that it matters; you always leave to be with them, so you can keep all the money for yourself. I've been telling you to bring in money to pay off our debts, you ungrateful bitch." Pa's voice rings out as he opens the front door.

Yup, that's Pa for you, my birth father, once loving but now blaming everything on me since Mom passed away. He even blames me for his drinking problem, which has led us into crippling debt. In truth, I've been working as an escort for an agency, offering companionship to the elite, both men and women. What Pa doesn't know is that I've been using the money to pay off our debts discreetly, as he has a reckless relationship with finances.

I turn to the persistent stranger. "Satisfied now?"

I notice his breaths growing shorter. "Of course not. No one should talk to my girl that way, not even your father."

My girl? Is he delusional? He must be confusing me with someone else. First, he called me Lucia, and now he claims me as his.

"Hey, I think you're mist—woah!" Before I can complete my sentence, I'm shoved aside by an irate man whose name remains a mystery. I should really inquire about his name—right after I stop him from entering the house.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going? Come back here!" I exclaim, rushing to block his path. But I'm pushed aside like a feather, and he rudely advances.

"Dude, why are you trying to enter my house, especially without my permission?" I demand, my frustration mounting.

"I want to teach that man a lesson in speaking to ladies, especially my fu—wife," he declares, his audacity leaving me utterly shocked.

I sputter, "Did you just say, wife? I barely know you, and you're already staking a claim on me. Are you mad?"

"We'll see about that," he replies defiantly, reaching the front door and pushing it open.

"What the hell? Why would you do that?" Pa barely finishes his sentence before being tackled to the floor by the stranger, whose name I still don't know. My heart races as I witness them exchange blows, their shouting, and the sound of scuffling filling the room. I fear Pa's tooth might have come loose. Realizing I can't break up their fight, I rush outside to seek help, but it's as though everyone in the vicinity has vanished.

Upon returning to the house, I brace myself for the worst, but what I find is nothing short of astonishing. Pa and the stranger are sitting together, sharing a drink, and laughing like they've known each other for years.

"What's going on here?" I inquire, my gaze darting back and forth between my father and the enigmatic stranger.

Pa grins. "Diana, have you met Jeremy? Your husband."

"What?!"