The angel from hell

DANNA DAVE

- Miss Dave, can we start throwing the rose petals? – I heard the copilot's voice in the earpiece that covered my ears.

- Yes. – I replied, anxiously.

Upon my confirmation, the other two crew members began to throw the natural petals that were organized in pure silk bags, causing a shower of red petals to fall on the house of Jax Gatti, my Fine Arts professor at the College of Fine Arts. Arts.

I smiled contentedly from the top of the helicopter as I noticed people coming out of their tiny, simple houses, completely impressed by the scene.

- Can we get closer? – I asked into the microphone, while my eyes reached the pilot in front, who briefly turned towards me.

- No, Miss Dave. Any closer than this is not safe.

- I need to see better the reaction of... The person inside the house. – I explained.

- There's no way, miss.

- Of course there is! – I contested – I pay twice as much as agreed. – I proposed.

- It's not safe! – The copilot looked at the pilot, interjecting into the conversation.

- I demand that they put me closer to the house. – I spoke clearly.

- We can't do this, Miss Dave.

I snorted, certain that they wouldn't come any closer, not for all the money in the world. I hated people in general ... But people who were ethical and had a sense of responsibility repulsed me. Those that are not "purchasable" then... They could be extinct from the world.

When the third bag was emptied and I looked at the red roof of petals as well as part of the yard and street where Jax lived, I thought I could have invested in more petals.

Finally, when I saw that I had put on a real show and caught the attention of everyone in the lower middle class neighborhood where the man lived, I was satisfied and ordered the pilot to take me back to base.

As I got into the limo, I called the dealership:

- Hello! It's Danna Dave.

- Oh, Mrs. Dave. Wait a second, I'm passing your call on to our manager.

- Be quick, please, as I don't have time to waste. – I rolled my eyes, bored.

As soon as the manager answered, he said:

- Miss Dave, we've already arranged everything.

- Almost two minutes for someone to bring the phone to you? – I was incredulous – Have you ever heard of an extension or hotline?

- Ah, yes... I'm sorry for wasting your precious time, Miss Dave, but we are arranging the line via extensions. Would you like my cell phone to facilitate our communication next time?

- Next time? – I laughed – Do you really think I'll do business with you next time? Two minutes of my time waiting for someone to take the phone... This is the most absurd thing I've ever seen in my life.

- I humbly apologize, miss. And I take this opportunity to ensure that the car has already been delivered to the requested address, with the large bow and card.

- Who received it?

- A woman.

- Did they hand deliver the card to her?

- Yes, as requested.

- Excellent!

- But we have a problem, Miss Dave...

- A problem? – I raised my eyebrow, furious – I don't work with problems.

- The woman told us to collect the car and bring it back. This was minutes after we delivered.

I laughed, thinking it was perfect. Then I asked:

- But they didn't accept returns, right?

- Of course not, Miss Dave. The car is paid for and we made it clear that if they didn't want it, they should get rid of it another way, as we did not accept returns.

- Excellent!

I ended the call and laid my head on the limousine's leather seat, finally getting some rest. Surprising my teacher had taken me a long time, especially when it came to getting fresh flowers, someone willing to shower petals in such an urbanized and busy place, as well as delivering the brand new car, causing a real noise in the place.

Still with her eyes closed, she smiled contentedly. If it wasn't to make a fuss, it wouldn't be me, Danna Dave.

I remembered what I had written on the gift card next to the car: " The perfect gift to say thank you for the perfect night."

There was no way his wife wouldn't believe that. No one would give up a car and make red rose petals rain from the sky if they hadn't slept with the perfect man, who gave them the most intense and lasting orgasm of their lives.

At least that's how I imagined it would be to cum with Jax... Feeling my body shudder in his arms while he still fucked me until I begged him to stop, because I couldn't handle so many orgasms in such a short time.

I called Moana's cell phone at night, but she didn't answer. On the home phone, they informed her that she had gone out with some "friends". What do you mean you went out with "friends"? Wasn't I her friend?

Since I didn't have class with Jax that night, I didn't go to college. I didn't care much about the boring classes I would miss, taught by professors with no vanity, ugly, ridiculous intellectuals and whose voices bored me.

Around eight o'clock at night I went down to the first floor and asked one of the maids:

- Where is my father?

- Mr. Dave isn't home, miss.

I laughed, mockingly:

- You think I don't know this? Do you happen to imagine that I'm blind?

- No, miss. Forgive me for the way I spoke... I didn't mean to offend you... He just... He hasn't arrived... Yet.

I took a deep breath, not willing to fire another employee that week. My day hadn't been bad enough for me to destroy the life of a poor thing who thought she was capable of working in my house. I would give him another chance, since I was a good person. But if he treated me like a mentally ill person again, since it was obvious that I knew my father wasn't home and if I had known, I wouldn't have bothered to ask, wasting my precious voice.

I went back to my room and picked up my cell phone, dialing him directly:

- Dad, where are you?

- Hi, Danna. I'm going to dinner with Nadine today.

- What do you mean you're going to have dinner with Nadine?

- Yes, that's right. I invited her to dinner just the two of us. Or are you going to say you wanted to have dinner with us? Know that I had to leave my own house to have dinner with my girlfriend because I can't stand the way I treat her anymore.

- I treat Nadine as she deserves to be treated: a gunslinger, widower.

- Are you at home?

- How do you know?

- I had your phone tracked.

- That's illegal. I'm not a minor. I can sue you for invasion of privacy.

He laughed:

- Well, do it. And the next time you call Nadine a gunslinger or a dowager, I'll have to take stricter action with you.

- I'm shaking with fear.

- And I'm tired of you!

- How can you say that about your own daughter? Which father gets tired of talking to his daughter? Any judge would win my case... I am being deeply psychologically affected by the way he treats me.

- Any judge would realize that you have serious psychological disorders that you refuse to treat. About not going to college... Do you want to fail again this semester?

- I don't give a fuck about this! – I ended the call and threw the phone away.

I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes. I hated Nadine. She was trying to take my father away from me... and take my mother's place. Didn't that woman understand that she could never be part of our family? Celli Davi was irreplaceable.