𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥'𝐬 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥 ✓ [𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐓𝐖𝐎]

chapter fifteen ✕ parents and perogatives

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐥𝐲𝐧, 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐤
𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐦
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
[unedited]

"I thought you were joking," I say frantically, as Angelo drives down a familiar street.

"Not at all, Sugar. This is a very serious milestone in our relationship. It should happen as soon as possible." Angelo grins.

"You're insane." I murmur as we park just a few storefronts away from my family's bar, Castillo's. "My dad is going to have a stroke. I've been missing for a week, he called the police over me. My mother might already be dead from the sheer panic. If you don't turn this car around-"

Angelo ignores my statements, instead reaching towards the backseat and grabbing a small gift bag.

"What is that?" I question suspiciously.

Angelo pauses, considering how to respond.

"A bribe." He says finally, stepping out of the car.

"A what?!" I say as he closes the door.

I tug at the handle of my side of the car door, but it won't budge. I curse the child lock as Angelo circles the car with a smile, opening the door for me and offering his hand to help me out.

Instead of taking it, I throw in an incredulous look and stay inside the car.

"If you don't want to join me, I can introduce myself. Although I'm not sure how your parents will take it when I tell them I whisked their daughter away on a week-long cross country vacation."

I consider and finally emerge.

"Less of a vacation, more of a business trip." I say, closing the door behind me and walking towards the bar.

Nervousness fills me as I become hyper-aware of the clicking of my shoes and street ambiance. I make my way down the street and into the side alley. The bar isn't open this early, but after years of schedule, I know my dad is always up at 6 am on the dot to get things ready.

The heavy metal door that leads to the kitchen is kept locked by a keypad that I punch the numbers into. A soft buzz alerts me that the door is unlocked.

With a deep breath, I open the side door to the kitchen. Slowly, my eyes move up, adjusting to the dim light of the room. It's empty.

"You'd think there's be more of a welcome party for the prodigal daughter." Angelo remarks on the silence.

But, under that, I hear a quiet commotion coming from the front end.

I weave through the kitchen and carefully push open the door that leads to the bar.

Sunlight streams in and once it settles, I see three familiar faces. On too many, in fact.

My mom and dad are welcome sights. I've missed them.