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Monsters don’t only disturb my sleep.
They’re in my everyday life.
15
I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours. Even if I try, there’s no way I can shut my eyes. Guilt keeps creeping up my throat like painful heartburn.
I let my daughter down.
Let Gigi down.
Sacrificed one of my men for the error of another.
Then Gigi’s call amplified the chaotic mess in my head.
“Daddy! Watch this!” Amara squeals when I enter the dance studio I had built in our home last year.
I watch her perform her new routine in her sparkly pink tutu. If anything provides me a brief reprieve from the shit show that’s my life, it’s seeing my daughter happy—witnessing her, for even a moment, experiencing somewhat of a normal life.
Unfortunately, Amara also suffers from Vinny’s actions. I pulled her out of dance classes and will only allow privates in our home. Her teacher, Pippa, comes to our house three times a week to rehearse with her.
Pippa is next to me, snapping and counting out the steps for Amara. When Amara nails a move she’s been struggling with for the past few weeks, Pippa nudges my shoulder with hers.
I like Pippa, and she’s one of the few people I’d allow to bump my shoulder without being elbowed in the face. Not only is she Amara’s dance teacher but she’s also Damien’s ex. They broke up after Pippa told him the life was too much to handle. Despite her ending their relationship, I trust Pippa. It’s the only reason I agreed to dance lessons to begin with.
Amara shyly bows before hugging me and then Pippa. “Do you want to see the new dress I got yesterday, Ms. Pippa?”
Pippa grins down at her. “You don’t have to ask me twice to see a new dress.”
Amara dashes out of the room.
Pippa turns to me once Amara is out of earshot. “She misses classes. It’s nice for her to get out of the house and hang out with other girls her age, Antonio.”
I massage the space between my brows with my thumb. “That’s not an option.”
She sighs, and her voice softens. “You have to let her live.”
“Letting her liveis exactly why she can’t attend classes. Hopefully, she can rejoin them soon. Until then, we stick to privates.”
She squeezes my shoulder. “Got it.”
Her curly hair creates a curtain between us as I follow her to the living room. Amara is already waiting for us, wearing her new Burberry dress. I had Clara buy her something to apologize for her lack of dance classes. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m one of those parents who compensate for their subpar parenting by buying their child material items.
“So cute,” Pippa says animatedly. “Do they have that in my size?”
Amara twirls in her dress like a ballerina before repeating half her dance number. We give her another round of applause. Pippa stays for another half hour, answering endless dancequestions for Amara and catching up with Clara. She hugs them goodbye, and I escort her to the front door.
“See you Thursday,” I say. It’s a demand, not a question.
Pippa turns to look at me. “Thursday.”
I hold the door open for her. Just as she slips past me, she collides with Damien and stumbles backward.
“Shit, sorry, Pippa.” Damien reaches out and grabs Pippa’s elbow to stop her from falling. He moves away and gestures for her to go ahead once she’s stable.
“Damien,” Pippa breathes out, her green eyes avoiding his gaze.
Their uncomfortableness screams through the air louder than some men I’ve killed.
