Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
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I don't know why I'm fucking surprised.
To think for a second, my familia, my mama, would congratulate and respect one of my decisions. It's funny in hindsight. But why does Mika's profession have to do with anything? If I want to be with her, I will. They don't know any of her hardships that could've let her down that path.
Something completely out of her control.
Still, Mika inspires me.
Even with everyone throwing her name in vain, she never stooped down to their level and proved why she is a million times better than they are. Of course, the only one who treated Mika with dignity and respect was Mateo. At least there's one person in the stands for our relationship, cheering us forward.
I take Mika to the one place no one will interrupt us.
I highly doubt anyone will come to apologize for their behavior, and why would they? I don't show any strength. My familia thinks they can get away with anything because I'm spineless. My chest is burning with rage, and my face aches from how tense it is. I'm fucking seething.
As I close the double doors, Mika runs her fingers down the alphabetic order files, books, and boxes and sticks her pointer finger in the air. "Wow! Not even one speck of dust. Incredible."
A laugh rips from my throat as Mika hurls herself onto the U-shaped couch, moaning in satisfaction. She moves her arms up and down as if she was swimming in an ocean. Mika flips onto her stomach, her boobs barely holding onto her top as her feet kick up in the air. She grabs one of the magazines on the circular coffee table, flicking through it.
Diverting my gaze, I see my ongoing investigation about Ander on my desk, and I panic for a second. When Mika texted, I got so excited I left everything on display for anyone to see. I don't need my familia adding delusional to the mix. Nor did I want to risk Mika's safety by getting her involved in this case. Quickly, I gather everything in a pile and throw it in my locked cabinet.
With an annoyed groan, I slip into my chair, widening my legs to a manspread to relax. My hands are kneading my forehead, trying to relieve the knots of an incoming mirage. My body jumps unexpectedly when Mika drops her hands on my shoulder, heat spreading like wildfire. She massages the kinks in my shoulders, lowering her lips to my ear, warm and minty.
"Relax, Muñeco," Mika whispers lowly in my ear. "You shouldn't be this stress on your birthday."
Taking a deep breath, I try to erase all the stress, irritation, and distress from my body like chalk on a chalkboard. It doesn't work, sadly. So many things went wrong, and all I wanted was for Mika to feel appreciated and accepted by my familia. I subjected her to such a tense, awkward situation. A part of me wishes that I never brought her here. Not because I'm embarrassed, but because they didn't appreciate her.
"Muñeco, you're not even trying to relax," Mika says, placing her weight on my frame as she leans on my shoulders, her arms reaching for my tie.
I groan. "I know. Gosh, I'm just so pissed off. Why couldn't they keep their mouths shut for twenty minutes?"
