Last night was a blast. I wanted to go bar hopping again, but Elijah, being the killjoy that he always is, decided to take me straight home to the mansion. So here I am again, sitting at the long dining table with my so-called father. I grimaced before yawning, lazily eyeing the food spread out in front of me but my eyes stopped at the end of the table where the demon seated. I was expecting the usual—cold silence or his endless tirades about how much of a disappointment I am. But today... something’s different. I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. My father, smiling. Not the sarcastic, mocking smirk he usually wears, but an actual, genuine smile as he sipped his coffee. "Did I wake up in the wrong house?" Farah, sitting across from me, muttered.We exchanged a glance before I looked away, lazily reaching for a piece of bread."Good morning, Farah, Eloise, and Sandro," the devil himself greeted us, which was incredibly surprising. Just the other day, he looked
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