~Camila~
"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕"
To the world, Camila is a breath of fresh air; a woman of gentle smiles and a joyful heart. Her charm is her armor, and her intellect is her weapon.
B...
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Camila's point of view
"Let me help you, beautiful." Russo said, stretching his arm out toward me with a warm smile.
I couldn't help but return his gesture, handing him the bags I'd been struggling with.
"Thank you, Russo. I really needed that," I sighed dramatically, grateful for his assistance.
He laughed, waving my gratitude away dismissively.
"It's fine, Camila. By the way, if you're hungry, we could grab lunch."
My eyes widened at the mention of food, and before I could even think, I nodded quickly, making him chuckle again.
He handed the bags off to one of the drivers and led me toward the food court, his touch careful but protective as he held my wrist almost as if afraid I might disappear into thin air.
Russo was undeniably attractive and charming, with an easy confidence that seemed almost innocent.
Yet, those deep brown eyes held a hint of something darker, something that told me he wasn't exactly the angel he appeared to be, especially considering his close ties with Luciano.
The brief but intense encounter I had with Luciano earlier loomed in my mind, reminding me of the tension and danger that clung to him like a shadow.
He's not just an ordinary freaky man, he's a dangerous one. But I'm not naive, and I sense there's more to him carrying a gun than mere kinks.
Still, I was willing to reserve judgment and give him the benefit of the doubt, for the time being.
....right, Camila?" Russo's voice pulled me away from my thoughts. I realized I'd been lost in my musings and hadn't heard a word he said.
His brow furrowed in concern as he held my arms in his.
"Is something wrong?" I shook my head, forcing a smile. I could see the skepticism in his expression, but I was fine.
"You've been absent-minded for quite a while now," he remarked as our food arrived.
I whispered a word of gratitude to the waitress and again sank into my thoughts, trying to make sense of the turbulent emotions swirling inside me.
"Your girlfriend?" The waitress asked, disappointment clouding her features.
She was cute, with a small pout and light brown curls tied up in a messy bun. Her chocolate skin was peculiar, glowing.
There was something endearing about her, and the look on her face tugged at my heart.
Russo placed his hand on mine, and I felt the waitress's gaze drop to our intertwined fingers.
"Yes." He lied without missing a beat, making me glare at him in surprise.
"Oh, okay. Enjoy your meal." She said quietly before walking away.
