Diablo's desire

Chapter one

Anjy

  Something was definitely wrong with my dad. He was definitely the biggest screw up in my life but this blew my mind.

"That's crazy. You're owing him. I think it's stupid to go to whatever party he's throwing." I told him straight. It was something Father said I inherited from my mom.

I didn't know her well. She left us when I was a child, stacked herself with a responsible man and forgot me and now here I was, having to handle my Dad's self-destructive habits. One was gambling and the other was poor decision making. Poor decisions like going to the party of Diablo.

"If we don't go. He'll think I don't have the money."  Dad retorted.

"That's the point." I spat back, pausing my cooking.

"We... You don't have the money. I don't know why he would even lend you half a million dollars."

"I needed it for the business and you know it Anjola."

Sometimes I wondered why I didn't end up with the right kind of father. My peers had Dads who wore the pants and protected their children but not mine, it was the other way around. I cannot count the times my dad had repeatedly disappointed me. Most of them were caused by money. He had a problem with gambling, The need to please and the worst part was, he always robbed from Peter to pay Paul. It was pathetic. Our troubles never seemed to end but this drew the line. He couldn't borrow his way out of this crisis and now we had to plead with a cold-hearted bastard for more time. I wished I could abandon my Dad in this crisis but I couldn't. With him, It was a stupid decision to another. I had barely made enough to feed myself working as a Nurse and I was sure as well our house hung in the balance if Dad didn't find a way to wriggle himself out of this mess.

"And what profit have you made? I'm sure you spent it all drinking and gambling. Sometimes I wonder if you look at yourself."

I resumed to chopping onions but I couldn't get the last words I said to him off my mind. I stared at the hot pot sizzling with hot steam. It displayed my reflection. The story of a dark-skinned girl trying to survive, a blackbird trying to soar even when the world wouldn't let her.

I dumped the chopped onions into the boiling pepper and checked on the rice.

"Anjola, I'm sorry." My dad muttered all of a sudden.

If it was the first occurrence. I would believe the words that came from his lips but I knew better than to trust his empty promises.

I sighed remembering every moment he had said those exact words with the promise to change but the truth was ugly and I had to tell him.

"Then change. If not for me, For yourself."

Insaid those words with teary eyes because I knew they were going to deaf ears. Somethings just can't change. I switched off the cooker and served the food while preparing to meet Diablo.

I slid a plate of rice to my dad and took mine to my room. I couldn't even look at him right now.

When I got the room, My stomach twisted just thinking about going to Diablo's party. Life has been so good since he left for the army. Why was he back? I wondered if he had changed. By that, I meant less obsessed with me. There was a reason why I despised Diablo Hansen. It all began in high school when he wouldn't stop bullying me. Fast forward a bit and he confessed he was in love with me. I rejected him of course and he made sure he ruined prom for me. He wasn't the only man who ruined my day that day though. The point was Diablo had always had this uncanny craving for me and I hated it. Now, I would be at his house tonight and it was thanks to my Dad.

***

  The car stopped and I purposely got out of it to help with the anxiety I was feeling. Unlike me, My father was really chill. It must feel cool to shrug your shoulders and leave your burden to the child because of cowardice.  I rested my eyes in him as he flexed his tired legs a bit. He looked good. In fact,  a stranger wouldn't think he had problems merely looking at him. His suit, black and matching with his shiny leather shoes hung right on his body and his curly hair shone with the night completing his transition to perfection even if he was far from that.

"You ready?" He asked, coming up at me and linking his hands in mine.

"You know I'm not." I retorted, keeping a hand to soothe the butterflies that wouldn't leave me alone.

I shrugged unto my purse like it had a remediation to my terrible anxiety.  As we went up the steps that led to the front door, I distracted myself in the splendor of the house. A house? unlikely. I was starting at a mansion. Not the extravagant type but definitely a mansion. A three-story black villa with endless balconies compared to "The Hive"; A hotel across town. He did have a strange taste of color. I mean who paints their house black. The only somewhats suiting thing about the building was the white roof.

There was a man waiting for us right at the top. Probably the butler waiting for us and watching as we closed in.

" Welcome, Mr. Julius." The man said giving a curt nod and opening the mahogany doors.

I was caught by the sight of elites having the time of their lives. To be Frank, I envied what they had. Not the lifestyle, Just their prudence to keep living the life. Before I noticed, My Dad's hands and left mine and he had disappeared into the crowd.

Did he really leave me to fend in this war zone? I scanned the room for Diablo but he was nowhere to be found... For now, At least. I didn't want him to find me first so I headed to the first safe spot I found. The counter was the perfect place. It was overrun with drunks who wouldn't ask questions and more importantly, I would be able to hide away from all the action. The room got cold and I shivered as I made my escape to the counter but as my damned luck would have it, I bumped into someone spilling whatever he was holding unto his body. The white suit looked expensive. I knew immediately that I just dragged myself into the spotlight. The very thing I was avoiding.

"I'm so sorry..." I tried to beg, Looking up to examine his countenance.

He was tall compared to me so I had to stretch all the way to the top to have a good look at him. He had sharp jaws accentuated by his trimmed beard and his steel-blue eyes shimmered when they met mine.

Oh my God!

He smirked and combed his fingers into his jet black hair.

"Well, If it isn't Anjy." He said in that cursed voice of his.

I bumped into him, into Diablo Hansen and I had to admit He had grown into a pretty fine creature.