Smirk

Lia wiped the sweat from her brow, glancing over at her father, who was carefully fixing a broken fence post near the edge of the field. His calloused hands worked with precision, his experience as a farmer evident in every movement. Samuel had raised her with nothing but love, teaching her the value of hard work and perseverance.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the fields as Lia worked alongside her adoptive father, Samuel. They had spent the entire afternoon tending to the crops, and though the day’s work was far from done, they were taking a brief moment to rest before starting the evening chores.

But as Lia watched him, her thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation she had earlier that day—the unnerving phone call from Vincent Casella. She hadn’t told her father about the strange man who had called, his voice smooth and confident as he spoke about her future in a way that sent a chill down her spine. Vincent Casella had insisted on meeting her, claiming it was about a “business opportunity.” She had never heard of him before, but something about his presence, even over the phone, made her uneasy.

She couldn’t let it go.

“Dad,” Lia said, trying to sound casual as she approached him, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the rustling of the wind. “Do you know anyone by the name of Vincent Casella?”

Samuel paused mid-swing, his hand gripping the hammer a little too tightly. He looked up, his expression instantly hardening as if he’d been struck by an unseen blow. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He just stood there, staring at her with a look in his eyes that she’d never seen before—guarded, like he was weighing whether to say something he might regret.

“Lia, don’t go getting mixed up with that man,” Samuel finally said, his voice low, as if the very mention of Vincent’s name carried a weight that he didn’t want to bear. He set down the hammer, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Vincent Casella is trouble, and I don’t care how much money he has or what kind of power he wields. Stay far away from him.”

Lia’s brow furrowed, confusion creeping into her voice. “But why? What do you mean? He seemed… nice. Just a little too forward, maybe, but—”

“Nice?” Samuel scoffed, shaking his head, his face tight with a mix of concern and disdain. “That man is dangerous, Lia. You have no idea who he is or what he’s capable of. He’s the type of man who takes whatever he wants, no matter the cost. And when he gets bored, people like you—people like me—are just collateral damage.”

Lia’s heart skipped a beat. The warning in her father’s voice felt too real, too urgent for her to ignore. But she couldn’t understand why someone like Vincent Casella, with all his wealth and power, would take an interest in her. She was just an ordinary woman, a struggling artist trying to make her way in a small, quiet town.

“Just trust me on this,” Samuel added, his voice firm. “You don’t need to get tangled up in his world. It’s not a place you want to be.”

Before she could respond, the familiar sound of her mother’s voice called out from the house.

“Lia! Samuel! Snack’s ready! Come inside and take a break.”

Lia gave her father one last look, the weight of his words still heavy in her mind, and nodded. “Alright, I’m coming,” she called back to Mei.

They walked together toward the house, their footsteps echoing in the quiet evening air. The golden light of the setting sun seemed to cast everything in a warm glow, but it couldn’t chase away the lingering sense of unease in Lia’s chest. Her father’s warning about Vincent echoed in her thoughts, but she tried to push it aside. It wasn’t like her to dwell on things like this.

Inside, Mei had laid out a simple spread on the kitchen table—tea, small cakes, and fruit. The sweet scent of jasmine filled the air as Mei poured tea into porcelain cups, a smile on her face as she looked at them. It was a peaceful, serene moment, and for a few minutes, Lia allowed herself to relax, even as her mind kept circling back to the unsettling figure of Vincent Casella.

As they ate, Mei chatted about the upcoming harvest and their plans for the winter. The conversation was light and comforting, a familiar rhythm that Lia had come to appreciate over the years. But the peace of the moment was fleeting.

Lia’s gaze drifted out the window as a shadow moved just beyond the edge of the yard. She frowned, her instincts kicking in. Something wasn’t right. She stood up slowly, excusing herself, and moved toward the door.

“Lia, where are you going?” Samuel called after her, but Lia didn’t answer.

Her feet moved on their own accord, carrying her out the door and toward the small patch of trees at the edge of the property. The sun had almost completely set now, leaving only a sliver of light on the horizon. The wind had picked up, rustling the leaves around her as she stepped into the cool evening air.

And then, she saw him.

A figure standing just outside the farm’s boundary, leaning casually against one of the trees. He had a cigarette dangling from his fingers, the smoke swirling lazily into the air. The man’s face was partially obscured in the shadows, but his posture was unmistakable.

It was Vincent Casella.

Lia’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her pulse quicken as her eyes locked with his. The faintest smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, and even from this distance, she could see the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

He hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even acknowledged her presence. But she could feel the weight of his gaze, like he was watching her every move, waiting for her to make the next one.

Lia’s legs felt frozen, her body locked in place as the reality of the situation set in. How had he found her? Why was he here?

She took a step back, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her body wanted to run, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him.

Vincent took a slow drag from his cigarette, never breaking eye contact. The smirk on his lips grew wider, more unsettling.

“Did you miss me, Lia?” he called out, his voice smooth and dripping with an unnerving calmness.

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Lia couldn’t breathe. The world seemed to stand still around her. She wanted to scream, to run back inside, but she was rooted to the spot, her heart hammering in her chest.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she finally managed to say, her voice trembling. “Leave.”

Vincent took another drag from his cigarette, his smirk never faltering. “I don’t think you get to make the rules here, sweetheart.”

Lia’s breath caught in her throat as she turned back toward the house. She needed to get inside, needed to tell her father, but before she could move, she heard his voice again, low and dangerous.

“Don’t worry, Lia,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “I’ll be around. You’ll see me again soon.”

The words sent a chill down her spine, and with a final glance over her shoulder, she rushed back toward the safety of the house, her mind racing.

As the door slammed behind her, she was certain of one thing: her life had just changed in ways she couldn’t yet comprehend. And Vincent Casella, the dangerous man her father had warned her about, was not going to let her go that easily.