Page 36 of Vicious Temptation

“Princesa, I called you five times.”

“Why? Is someone dead? Dying?” I ask, grabbing a rag and wiping the oil and soot from my hands and forearms.

“Not yet.” He smirks and opens his arms for a hug.

“I’m filthy. I’ll ruin your jacket.”

He doesn’t care. He pulls me against his chest anyway, and I wrap my arms around him, resting my cheek against a place that has felt safe for as long as I can remember.

My father has never asked me to make myself easier for anyone else to understand. I’ve never had to be quieter around him or pretend to be the daughter anyone expected him to have. Whatever version of myself I brought home, he loved her.

The criminal underworld may know him as Kai Cain, a former contract assassin for Ares and The Six whose name still carries weight decades later. I just know him as Papá.

“Let’s go for a ride.”

I look up at him. It’s been a while since we’ve gone on one together.

He’s the reason I fell in love with engines and speed in the first place. I remember sitting beside him as a kid, fascinated as I watched him work and wanting to be just like him. It was one of the few things that could hold my attention for hours. Some of my favorite memories are of the two of us riding the back roads with nowhere we needed to be.

“Really?”

I’m not even on my bike yet, and the idea already sounds like exactly what I need.

“Yeah. I’ll give you some time to get cleaned up and meet you out front.”

When the door closes behind him, I turn back to my car and grimace. “Later, you and I have a bone to pick.”

Eleven

Remi

The bike is already waiting for me out front, engine idling low and steady.

Papá glances over his shoulder as I step out, and that’s all it takes for me to know he suspects something is off. But he doesn’t ask. He just nods once and swings onto his own bike.

I grab my helmet, slide it on, and throw a leg over mine. The familiar weight beneath me feels like second nature, and when my fingers curl around the grips, my body finally starts to relax for the first time all night.

“Ready?” he calls over the rumble.

“Always.”

He taps his helmet in a silent ask to sync our comms, then rolls the throttle without waiting for a response and takes off. I follow behind him, letting the miles from the shop put some space between me and everything I’ve been thinking about.

Cool air filters through my jacket as we weave through the city, the lights blurring as the buildings spread out and traffic thins. The farther we go, the easier it becomes to focus on the road ahead instead of everything I left back there.

For a while, we ride in silence, just the two of us like old times.

When I was younger, most of those rides were on the back of Gloria, the old bike he kept long after he had newer, better ones sitting in his garage. I asked him once who Gloria was because, even as a kid, I knew my father well enough to know he wouldn’t give something a name without a reason.

He went quiet for so long I thought he hadn’t heard me, then told me she was someone he never wanted to forget. I accepted the answer and never thought to ask him about her again.

I don’t really know when we stopped riding together. Maybe it was after everything that happened with Ryuji and Val. I do know it was me who made excuse after excuse until he stopped asking, not out of anger or frustration, but because he’s always known when to give me space.

His bike slows slightly, falling back until he’s riding just off to my side.

“Car trouble?” he calls over.

I let out a short laugh. “You could say that.”