Chapter 5: Chapter Three

After my detour to the dress shop, I sat on my bike outside Franco's Pizza, dread weighing heavy on my chest as I thought about the trouble Mike had stirred up.

Franco's Pizza wasn't far from Mike's Magic Shop, just a few blocks away at the intersection of a busy avenue in Little Italy. The place was a perfect stereotype of an old-school Italian restaurant—brown stucco walls, a green, white, and red awning over the door, and a wooden sign above it that read "Franco's" with wreaths of grapes around the edges. Inside, the decor was just as over-the-top, with red-and-white checkered tablecloths on the tables and accordion music drifting from the speakers in the ceiling.

Today, it felt like a sinister cloud was hovering over the place.

At Franco's, my job was to deliver what I was told was pizza. Franco's one rule: never look inside the boxes.

So, I never did.

I chewed on the corner of my lip, wondering if I should have.

I patted Luis' head, hoping to draw a little bit of courage from him. Then, taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked toward the restaurant.

Waiting for me outside was Dominic, Franco's son—and my closest friend in SF besides Luis. At 6'2" with gray eyes, spiky hair, and a bit of extra weight, Dominic cut an imposing figure, though his boyish, handsome face made him approachable. He was three years older than me at twenty-one,  and he always had a protective, almost motherly way of looking out for me.

But today, there was no cheesecake in his hands to feed me with, and his expression was strained with worry. His gray eyes flicked to me as soon as I approached.

Before I could say anything, Dominic pulled me off my bike, making it clatter to the ground, and wrapped me in a tight hug, pressing me against his chest. I was a puny 5'2", and my face was smooshed against his right pectoral, making it hard to breathe. Luis barked in protest, but Dominic didn't let go until he'd dragged me away from the entrance.

"What are you doing?" I sputtered, my voice muffled by his shirt. Despite being a bit overweight, Dominic was solid and strong, making it impossible to break free until he wanted me to.

Finally, he released me, his hand lingering on my arm as if he were afraid I might vanish. "Matt, something's happened," he whispered, his gray eyes clouded with concern. "Dad's furious. He thinks you stole from him."

"What?" I blinked, the gnawing feeling in my gut getting worse. I had an idea where this was heading.

"Mike told him you took money from the deliveries," Dominic continued, his voice low but urgent. "He said you've been skimming, and that you didn't return one of the bags."

I felt the ground fall out from beneath me.

Mike had betrayed me.

I had suspected something earlier when Mike showered me with birthday gifts, but I hadn't wanted to believe it was this bad.

"Did he really say that?" My voice trembled, disbelief clear.

Dominic nodded, his jaw tightening. "I was there. He told Dad you were stealing, and now Dad's ready to make you pay."

Anger surged through me. "I can't believe this. I just left Mike's! He must have given me all this stuff because he felt guilty." I shook the backpack in frustration. "Ugh. Why? Let me talk to Franco. I need to clear this up."

I tried to step toward the restaurant, but Dominic caught my arm again, his grip strong but gentle.

"Matt, don't," he warned softly. "Dad's beyond reason right now. I'm just trying to protect you."

Luis growled softly beside us, looking like he agreed with Dominic -- a total birthday miracle.

However, I wasn't going to be a coward and run away when I'd done nothing wrong. I shook off Dominic's hand and he finally let me go, though his eyes remained full of worry. "Please be careful."

I nodded and took a deep breath. "I'll be fine."

Mike wouldn't be, though, once I got my hands on him.

I couldn't believe he used me as a scapegoat.

A few years ago, Mike had nearly lost his shop from gambling, and Aisa helped him save it by making her admirers bail him out. It was the first time I felt like Aisa didn't have a lump of heart-shaped coal in her chest.

However, the real reason she wanted to bail him out was to make sure he couldn't say no to any of her requests. In fact, helping me out was one of them. And she never hesitated to remind me of her mercies.

My voice had risen enough for Franco to hear inside. "Is that the thief? Get in here, you little puke!"

The second I stepped inside, Franco's deep voice rumbled through the air. He sat at a table near the back, his large frame hunched over a half-eaten pizza. His thick arms rested heavily on the red-and-white checkered tablecloth, and he eyed me with a look that sent a chill down my spine.

"Sit down," he grumbled, motioning to the chair across from him.

I hesitated but took the seat, while Dominic pulled up a chair beside me, putting his arm around me, which made his father glare harder.

Franco wasted no time getting to the point.

"There are a few things I don't like about you, kid," Franco began, his voice sharp and gruff. "First, you're manipulative. You twist people around your little fingers, especially Mike. I've had enough of your games."

I blinked, unable to believe what I was hearing. "Manipulative? Me? Franco, if I were that manipulative, do you think I'd be living in a treehouse? If I had that kind of power, I'd be sitting in a mansion, not here, scraping by."

Franco didn't budge. "That's part of your act, isn't it? You play the helpless victim, and people fall for it. That's the second thing I don't like about you. You take advantage of everyone around you."

I clenched my fists under the table, trying to stay calm. Take advantage?

I was always trying to stay out of everyone's way.

I did what I was told.

Stayed out of what needed to be stayed out of.

If anything, people were always taking advantage of me.

My lips tightened as I struggled with my outrage. "Mike's lying. He  even gave me these gifts because he felt guilty for something, not because I took anything." I held up the backpack, but Franco didn't even glance at it.

"Mike probably gave you that stuff because he thinks he owes you. But you're the one who made him start gambling again. He admitted it himself."

Dominic shifted beside me, leaning forward to speak up. "Dad, that's not true. Matt's a good guy."

Franco's eyes flicked to his son, narrowing. "You've always been soft on him, Dom. You don't see what's really going on here."

"I see just fine," Dominic shot back, his voice calm but firm. "And I know Matt didn't take that money. He's been with me every night."

I froze, surprised by Dominic's sudden defense. He was lying to protect me, but Franco wasn't having it.

"Oh, really?" Franco's voice dropped dangerously low. "Matt, is that true? Did you spend every night with my son?"

I swallowed hard, the truth burning on my tongue. I couldn't lie—not with my Fae blood. "No," I admitted quietly, my heart sinking. "I was home. Alone."

Dominic's grip on my shoulder tightened, his silent support the only thing keeping me from crumbling under Franco's hard stare.

Franco's voice was harsh. "You've got my son wrapped around your little finger, don't you? That's the third thing I don't like about you, Matt. You've turned him against me."

The tension in the room snapped like a tight wire. Before I could react, Franco reached under the table and pulled out a gun.

Everything inside me froze.

"Dad!" Dominic whispered, his voice filled with alarm.

I instinctively scooted back, my chair scraping against the floor as Luis burst into the room, sensing that I was in danger.

Luis positioned himself between me and Franco, his eyes locked on the gun, his fur bristling.

Franco didn't hesitate. He pointed the gun at Luis.

"Stop!" I cried, raising my hands in panic. "Please, Franco, don't! I'll give you all the money I have. Just don't hurt my dog."

Franco's eyes narrowed, but he didn't lower the weapon. "You think you can buy your way out of this?"

Dominic stood up beside me, his voice calm but steady. "Matt didn't do this. And if you hurt him, I'll hurt you."

Franco's eyes flickered, his anger rising. "You'll hurt me? For him?"

Before things could escalate further, the back door slammed open, and a bluish figure appeared—a ghost. It looked like a relative of Franco, with the same sharp nose and bushy eyebrows. The ghost floated toward Franco, knocking the gun from his hand.

I looked at the ghost, relieved. I'd sent a frantic call to any ghost around to come help, but I had no idea it would be Franco's relative.

Franco jumped back, his eyes wide, obviously able to see the apparition. "What the—?"

Candle jars toppled off tables, and silverware floated through the air as the ghost wreaked havoc. Dominic grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. "Come on, Matt. Let's go."

We bolted into the alleyway, Luis at our heels, and ran until we were safely on the busy sidewalk. I stopped, out of breath, my heart pounding in my chest as I crouched down, covering my head with my arms.

Dominic knelt beside me, cradling me in his large arms. His chest was warm, his embrace solid, and I took comfort in it. "It's going to be okay, Matt. We'll figure this out. I'm here," he whispered, his voice low and soft.

Luis leaned his furry body against my side, whining at the pain he could sense in me.

I pressed my face against Dom's shoulder and put my arm around Luis, trying to lose myself in the safety of their concern.

But as the seconds ticked by, my anguish didn't cease. Mike had betrayed me—Mike, of all people. How could he blame me for his gambling debts? I had trusted him, leaned on him for guidance, and now he'd thrown me to the wolves. I knew something was wrong when he gave me those birthday gifts, but I didn't want to believe it.

Franco's fury still lingered in the air, his accusations biting deep into my psyche. He didn't just believe I'd stolen from him—he thought I'd twisted everyone around me, including his own son. The way he looked at me like I was a stain, made my chest ache. I had tried so hard to stay out of the way, to survive, to get through the mess that was my life. And yet, here I was, right in the middle of another disaster.

And then there was Dominic.

I pulled away slightly, just enough to see his face. His gray eyes were clouded with concern, his arms still wrapped protectively around me. Dominic had lied—for me. That fact hung in the air between us. He had told Franco I was with him, risking his relationship with his father, just to keep me safe. My heart twisted. He shouldn't have done that. I wasn't worth the trouble, not when I'd only brought chaos into his life.

Why did he do that for me?