Ares ; A Mafia Romance ||✓

Chapter 3

Callista Miller

Sitting inside Ares's car felt like a dream come true for an unpopular and simple girl like me. It was as if a marigold flower fell in a field full of roses. It was delightful but at the same time thrilling and nerve-wracking. The car was filled with a scent similar to that soul-soothing smell of soil after a drizzling rain which has soaked its every particle. My heart was pounding against my chest, and the leather seat of the car was hard but comfortable, soft but rigid. I sank completely into it enjoying the way my muscles relaxed on the expensive material it was made of. My infatuated, enticed brain has multiple times formed situations in my dreams with Ares but nothing could compare and prepare me for the situation right now. My stomach was fluttering with butterflies just like when a kid is riding an amusement park ride in joy. But with all these feelings came the emotions like nervousness, excitement, happiness, sadness, and fear. The uncharacteristic coldness inside and the cool air coming from the air conditioner pricked my skin, snatching the warmth from it and making me shiver and rub my palms on my hands stealthily.

The dark interior of the exorbitant black Bugatti resembles that of an empty, dark, spooky house. His presence enhanced the shady environment inside the car. His pale skin contrasted the black covering every inch of the car, be it the steering wheel or the dashboard. Whenever he put his hand on the gear handle I would jump in my seat because of the feeling similar to that of walking on a squeaky floor of an abandoned haunted house with every creak the heart leaping to the throat, nerves being oversensitive, my insides were a mess.

"Where to?"

Came his voice sounding emotionless. My insides shook from the bitterness it left, like reading the words of the lyrics of a song like a speech instead of singing, killing its emotions completely. I shifted my gaze away from my front to him, his side profile illuminating with every passing street light on the empty road, his chiseled jawline, eyes fixed on the road ahead, veiny hands clutching the steering wheel tightly like a creeper plant to a wall, his muscles flexing with his every moment, he looked otherworldly. My cheeks flamed hot, a small sheepish smile grazed my lips, heartbeat quickened when our eyes met the moment he looked at me from the corner of his eyes. My head immediately turned towards the window, clearing my throat to rid the awkwardness in the air. I reply him, my voice barely above a whisper but he heard it as the car was as quiet as the meditation room with only sounds of engine running and our breathing,

"Riverside Drive, Queens."

My home is quite a distance from the upper east side, Carnegie hill where he lived but it was shorter than the differences between him and me. He did no act of acknowledgment other than speeding the car towards the said address. The whole ride home was spent in uncomfortable silence with me looking out the window at the dark starless night sky which was resembling the atmosphere inside the car, bland.

Upon reaching the front of my house, he swiftly stopped the car. I looked at the side of his face while removing the seatbelt, my hands fumbling. Should I thank him? Of course, he took the time out of his day to drop me home so far away. He could have spent his time with his friends. But how do l do it? He is not even glancing my way. I chew my lower lip, just say the word, it would be enough, or should I call him inside?

"Get out."

I jumped slightly at his voice which stopped my mind from ranting. I sighed, slowly opening the car door once I removed the belt taking my sweet time to buy myself some seconds. This is it. I put my one leg out, turning back to him,

"Thank you for the ride home."

My voice came lower and timider than I wanted it. I looked up at him from under my lashes to see him clutching the steering wheel tighter, his head turned away. I bit my lower lip a little harder, and without getting any reply from him, I step out of the car closing the door behind me. He sped off instantly as if he would miss the train any second or maybe he doesn't want to be in my unwanted presence any longer. Releasing a soft breath I walk up the stone pathway leading to the porch of my house, the overgrown grass, the noise of crickets, and the cold night air fill the silence and leave a sour taste on my tongue.