Chapter 89 - 91
Avara POV
It dawns on him like a slap to the face as he reaches into his back pocket to slide out the device. That I had planted when I pulled myself closer to him the second time. He was so focused on what my hand was doing in the front; it left him oblivious to the hand that snaked behind him.
"Honestly, detective," I begin, deepening the enunciation of the word with a long and low drawl. "I expected better. I didn’t think you were so easily distracted."
"You’re distracting," he blurts, then makes a curt correction. "I underestimated you."
I smile back at him sweetly. "And you won’t be the last to do so."
***
When I return home with some souvenirs from Simon.
I thought I was coming home to an empty house. Instead, I’m welcomed by the rumble of a brewing argument. My brothers. And since I haven’t heard our father yelling to them to shut up from upstairs—I’m guessing he’s not home. I close the door, rolling the human-size suitcase behind me, hoping the sound of me trundling its heft through the entryway would alert them of my arrival. But the topic of their conflict seems to be more demanding. Nothing interesting, just about a new directive and something about a different approach to proposal—all linked to him, so it interests me little.
"So you’ll have dad look like a pussy for not taking a strong stance on—what you call it—positive reform or whatever bullshit those liberal losers are calling it."
"Liberal losers?" Luciano repeats in rage, his pitch spiking with a hot flash. "That’s a wonderful tagline for dad’s next campaign. What’s next—your body, our choice?"
"That’s not what I meant," Silas says with a tortured groan. "There’s nothing wrong with having an opinion."
"There is if the opinion is an infringement of human rights or worse—a controversial, cancel-worthy unpopular opinion. It’s like he always said—"