Page 23 of Raziel

“I mean, yeah… we just ate a burger, drank a milkshake, and sat there together after he did everything but call me a stupid bitch, but it felt special,” I said, biting into a fry. “I woke up and he was gone though. Left the trash and everything. But he looked so damn cute in his pajamas, so I kind of forgive him.”

Miyori shot me a look across the table—the kind only older sisters perfect. Not quite scolding, but close. She sighed like I exhausted her.

“I’m serious. He had on these expensive black silk pajamas. I don’t know. He just looked like a model. Sophisticated and dangerous all at once.”

I dragged a fry through the ketchup and smiled to myself. “Like the kind of man who reads murder mystery novels while sipping whiskey—but also has a body count.”

Miyori gave me that look—eyebrow arched, eyes judging.

“What?” I shrugged. “You can live your mob fantasy, but I can’t?”

She sighed again.

“You’re too caught up on him, Maya. You’ve been talking about this man since he got to Florida. He’s not even nice to you,” she said gently. “It ain’t going to work out. Because under all that chaos you wear like armor—you’re soft.”

I looked down at my chicken sandwich and shrugged. “I know.”

“He’s going to hurt your feelings. Just stay away from him.”

“I don’t want to.” I whined, leaning back in the booth. “He just… he calls to something in me.”

“Yeah,” Miyori said, rolling her eyes. “So did drugs.”

I flinched.

Low blow.

But she wasn’t wrong.

I didn’t say anything back. Because what do I look like arguing with my sister, the one who did everything for me, when she’s telling the truth?

I wasn’t even mad at her for saying it. She wasn’t trying to be mean. She was trying to protect me—in that big sister way she couldn’t shut off.

But it still hurt my feelings.

I looked at everything but her to keep from crying.

We were at the mall, eating lunch at the café near the children’s boutique. Ezra needed more onesies. Miyori had already picked out five. I wasn’t helping—I was just there for the food and the company.

My mind drifted back to Raziel.

He wasn’t a needle or a powder.

He was a man.

A mean one, yeah.

But he made me feel like something.

Every time he came around, I got this feeling in my chest.

Like fire.

Burning slow and steady—and dangerous.

Miyori’s phone buzzed, pulling my attention.

She glanced down, then up at me. “They’re here.”