COVER ART IS MINE
Camilla has a secret. She's the daughter of the most fashionable con woman and the most dangerous con man on the Isle of the Lost.
Diana has a problem. Her dad wants her to retrieve his staff of power when she goes to Auradon, but...
The rest of the day and part of the night was focused on yelling at my mother.
"He abused me! He fought you! Don't you remember how bad he hurt you? Don't you remember that scar on your neck that he gave you?"
Finally, my mother must've gotten exhausted of my shouting. "Camilla DeVille!" She snapped. "Your father is coming over or dinner whether you like it or not. Now go to your room and put on a nice outfit. He'll be here soon."
I growled something that would have gotten me grounded if I wasn't 17, and stomped up the stairs to my room.
My wallpaper was black and pastel blue; colours that resembled both my parents. If it hadn't been painted when I was 5, before James Hook left us, it would have been gone in a second. I hate my father. All I said to Cruella was true.
Cruella. Please. Estella, more like.
Estella is my mother's real name. Cruella was her stage name, a more creepy, gruesome name that suits a villain. As far as I know, every villain is the same. Real name, public name. Simple as that.
I swung the door of my walk-in closet open and studied the clothes inside.
Mother said something nice...but did she mean in her opinion or in mine?
Ha. Not even a choice.
I grinned, satisfied with my loophole, and tugged a short dress off its clothes hanger. It was bright red, a little lighter than blood, and had a black and silver belt. Silver chains hung from the belt, crisscrossing and making me a gorgeous girl who looked like she wrestled in that dress for fun. Like a 'stay away from me, I'm dangerous' look.
A little extra. Totally me.
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The belt was also perfect for hiding a little dagger.
I wasn't facing my father unarmed. He wasn't going to harm me or my mother ever again.
***
My mother probably told Hook to dress nicely too, because he was in a nice white dress shirt and black jeans. He eyed my outfit approvingly, but his gaze lingered on my belt. I winced. I wasn't going to face him unarmed, but hiding a dagger in a thin belt was dumb. Also, hiding it from a man who could sniff out a weapon in a 15 km range.
Cruella, on the other hand, was dressed to impress...and maybe also dressed to make me gag. She was wearing a tight, black, low cut, ankle-length dress that left way too little for the imagination. Her cleavage showed a little bit too much, but I understood why. Cruella wanted Hook to...uh...feel a connection (there's no less gross way to say this, sorry).
"Sit down, please." Cruella flicked a curl of hair over her shoulder and glared at me pointedly. "We're so glad you could come, James." She sent my father a dazzling smile that usually sent guys to their knees.
"It's Captain, Cruella. Captain." My father scooted a chair back and settled into it. I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to punch something, preferably my father's perfect Scottish face. Cruella frowned but said nothing.
"So, Captain," I said icily, "what have you been up to these past 10 years?"
"Uh..." Captain Hook glanced at my mother. "I met a nice girl. We're co-captains now. Other than that, haven't given you or family much thought."
"James." Cruella glowered at my father. "Don't talk like that in front of your wife and daughter."
Hook looked thoughtful. "You're no longer family."
I couldn't stand it anymore. I grabbed my knife, lifted it free of my belt, and stabbed towards Hook's chest. He deflected it easily, without even looking up at me. He twisted my arm, making me drop the dagger and stagger back. I clutched my arm in pain. Cruella stared at me. I knew what she was thinking, just like 10 years ago.
How could you hurt her? Don't you referee the things you've done? Don't you care about us at all?
Hook had an excellent poker face. He picked up my dagger from the floor and studied it. "I must say, Camilla, attacking your father after inviting him to your house?" My father set the dagger down on the table and took a step towards me. I stepped back. "Get out of this house and my sight," I hissed.
Hook raised his hands in defeat, then carried his things out the door, slamming it behind him.
Cruella was paralyzed for another 10 seconds before I broke the silence. "What did I tell you?"
"I'm sorry, Camilla." Mother cross the room in two large steps and wrapped her arms around me. After she pulled away and saw my disappointed face, her gaze fell to the ground. "I—"
"Save it." I picked up my dagger and turned to walk back up to my room. After I was safely alone, I decided to leave my door open.
Big mistake.
I heard my mother's high heels walk on the floor. The next sound was Cruella saying, "How? How did it become like this?"
The last thing I remember before dozing off from exhaustion and pain was my mother's quiet sobs.
And then all was quiet, like attempted murder had never happened.
