Ares ; A Mafia Romance ||✓

Chapter 8

Callista Miller
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The school day was routine, like a cycle I followed continuously: attending classes, having lunch with friends, and then finishing the remaining classes until the end of the day. I was especially anticipating chemistry class, hoping to see Ares, but neither he nor his friends showed up. I was disappointed, to say the least. The unease and worry in my heart about his well-being, his wound, and whether he was doing okay made me anxious. My anxiety grew tenfold with his absence and the lack of any news about him. My friends noticed I was on edge, like a housewife waiting for her husband to return from war. They tried to distract me from whatever they thought was troubling me, and I was grateful, as I had no answer if they asked why I was behaving like a worried, sick wife. I wasn’t sure if they would be happy or horrified to know that the cause of my distress was the mafia prince with a shoulder injury. It was bizarre. Everyone else avoided him, feared him, but here I was, fretting over him like a sick puppy.

After the school day ended, I lay on my bed, contemplating whether to visit Ares at his home. Looking at my phone, I sighed. There were no messages or calls from him. Oh! How would I know if there were, since I didn’t even have his number? Laughing at my stupidity for not getting his number, I rolled onto my stomach. The anxiety of not knowing his current condition was unbearable, growing worse with each passing second. Groaning, I pulled at my hair, unsure of what to do. I sighed as various scenarios ran through my mind like a movie reel. In one, he was perfectly fine and purposely avoiding me. In another, he was hurting from the pain of his wound and calling for help. Each scenario twisted my heart. In another, he was fighting, injured but looking badass, or perhaps he was bleeding but didn’t care much and went about his day. His recklessness and carelessness bothered me, constricting my heart with concern and making me even more unsettled.

The time was three in the afternoon, an hour since school had ended, but I had spent the entire day worrying about him. Closing my eyes, I tried to ignore it, but images of him shirtless, sitting in front of a dressing table, bleeding from his shoulder and trying to bandage it, flashed in my head. In an instant, my eyes opened. Turning onto my back, I stared blankly at the ceiling. Why couldn’t I stop worrying about him? He would be okay; it’s not like he was alone. But then I remembered that he lived alone, with no one to care for him. Maids aren’t family, after all. At least, that’s what I thought. His friends lived with their families, and his parents lived in the DelaVega mansion on the other side of the city. Was he fine all alone? Or was he in pain, which was why he missed school? Ugh! I was going crazy with uncertainty about him. Why? Just why couldn’t I take it anymore? Getting up, I grabbed my phone and sling bag, which had some money, and left my room and house, locking it behind me. My parents were both at work. The adrenaline running through my veins gave me enough courage to follow through with my decision and not chicken out—it was for my sanity and peace of mind. Taking a deep breath, I walked toward the subway.

Standing in front of the familiar house with glass walls and a flower garden, the adrenaline in my veins was wearing off, replaced by nervousness. What was I thinking, coming here? It was surely a disastrous idea. But I couldn’t back out now; I was already here, and I needed to see him before I left. Approaching the guard station beside the metal gate, I stood in front of the window where the same guard from last time was sitting. Unlike before, I was granted entry without even opening my mouth. With a small acknowledgment of “Miss Miller,” the smaller side gate was opened for me. Feeling astonished, I nodded at the guard and went inside. How on earth did that happen? Am I welcome here whenever I like? Did Ares expect me to come here unannounced and allowed me on his property just like that? I wasn’t even his friend, just a classmate with whom he had to do a project. Where did this trust come from, to grant my presence in his home, where I assumed only his friends were welcome? It felt like walking inside a magical house where the king had a special regard for me. I felt special, like a commoner lucky enough to meet the king of the generation, whose glimpse was like seeing a star once in a hundred years. The happiness that came with the realization was overwhelming, making my heart feel light, as if it were floating in the air.