He has a heart of stone... but for her he's burn the world.
Kieran Diaz has thought about one thing since he was seven years old: killing the man who murdered his father. He doesn't have time for love and that's just the way he likes it.
But when he...
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Barcelona is everything I imagined it would be. The buildings whisper a different story, the people are beautiful, and the fashion speaks to my soul. But what I really love about Barcelona was that it was a fresh start.
This was my chance to be known as Dahlia Harper, not Dahlia Harper the daughter of fashion mogul and former supermodel Stella Harper. Here, I could make a name for myself. Here, I could put what happened in DC behind me.
And I needed to put DC behind me.
I was worried I wouldn't be able to handle being so far away from my family and friends for the first time and I'd be homesick, but Barcelona was such a huge city that I was always finding some hidden gem to explore. Plus, my classmates were all nice. We all get together for coffee breaks, study sessions at the library and we made plans to go to the little hotspot this weekend.
I spoke to my friends a lot on Facetime and my parents called every other day to see how I was doing. Mom even tried to casually mention how it's been a while since she visited Spain and was due for a little visit.
Things were better between my dad and me. It was like a weight had been lifted off both our shoulders. I no longer saw him as this man who hung the moon and stars in the sky and could do no wrong. He was human now; beautifully flawed but perfect just for me.
I didn't expect him to be perfect because I realized now that nobody is. I just needed him to be my dad. Stubborn, loving, protective... as long as those things never changed, I'd always be his little butterfly.
I glanced down at my phone as I made my way to the building of my first class, careful not to bump into anyone as I read the text messages from my friends who wished me good morning. I typed out a quick reply just as another message from an unknown number lit up my screen.
Unknown: You look beautiful this morning.
My stomach dipped at the words. It wasn't someone I had saved in my contacts and it couldn't be Kieran because I blocked his number but my gut was telling me that it was him. I know it's impossible because he was back home and thousands of miles away, but I couldn't shake the feeling of his presence being near.
You're just being paranoid Dahlia. He's not here.
With that reassurance in mind, I tucked my phone in the front pocket of my jeans and continued to class but stopped just outside the building when I spotted a familiar, tall, dark-haired figure.
No. No. It can't be him.
He can't be here.
But it is him and he is here. Kieran leans against the wall with his hands in his pocket looking devastatingly beautiful as he did last week in Washington.
"You can't be here," I said, even though I had no say where he traveled to and I didn't own the school.
