Arabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter.
The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on.
Arabella...
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Mature Content in this chapter - 18+
✰ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ ✰
"𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭"
The strong forbidden temptation to grab Roman and drag him into a room was likely to happen, as my wavering eyes glared at the floor beneath me.
Fewer girls swarmed around him like fucking leeches; their ogling went unnoticed by him, but I'm sure the men by their sides noticed just like I did.
I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't notice the voices speaking to me until I was nudged to the side.
My gaze shifted to the man next to me, my father glanced at me weirdly with questioning eyes.
I straightened up and looked over at the woman in front of us who was talking to my mother.
"What's wrong?" My father asked quietly.
I'm sexually frustrated that's what's wrong.
I cleared my throat once and shook my head, "Nothing's wrong,"
He turned his head towards me and looked at me with a menacing glare that often makes me nearly shit myself.
"Is someone bothering you, Arabella?"
"No, I'm just bored," I said, shaking my head quickly and looking down at my empty glass.
I hoped he'd buy it. When we went to occasions like these, I was always easily agitated, unless it was for a job, in which instance I would stay in character, but if not, all I wanted to do was get the fuck out.
He gave a short nod and looked over me again before returning his attention to the conversation he wasn't listening to.
I frowned as I looked down at my empty champagne glass. I then returned my gaze to Roman, who was still being gawked by a fresh group of women.
My legs began to move freely, heading straight for the bar.
I'm going to need another drink.
I kept my head up high as I walked past Roman and landed smoothly at the bar.
"Excuse me," I said over the counter, the young man smiled as he looked up from the glasses he was washing.
"What can I do for you, gorgeous?"
I handed him my glass and pointed behind him to the champagne bottle.
"Just the standard champagne, please,"
He gave me a nod and began pouring me a drink.
"How's your night going?"
"Okay, I guess," I smiled and shrugged half-heartedly.
"How about you?"
He smiles as he hands me my glass, "As good as it gets for a bartender." I laugh and lift the glass to my lips.
