By Darkness I Burn [EN]

Chapter 8

Isabella – 19 years old

"Amo won't mind if you go to a club without him, right?" Hana asked Greta, and she shook her head.

"I've already talked to him. As soon as he's done, he'll come and meet us there. Nevio will join us for the time being."

We were in the Hamptons to celebrate Greta's 21st birthday, which was today. Nothing big, just a family lunch and dinner to not be missed. Her father wouldn't arrive until tomorrow, but her mother, Giulio and Nevio were already here. Aunt Aria was here, too, despite the fact that Uncle Luca wouldn't arrive until dawn, taking any opportunity she could find to gossip with Serafina. Also there was Hana, Aurora and of course a bunch of security guards for us.

Since not all the family would be there today, we – Hana – decided that we would go to the club. Well, Aunt Aria and Serafina would stay home, but all of us girls would – and apparently Nevio too, since Amo had asked him to keep an eye on Greta.

"Right." Hana clapped her hands, standing up. "Let's get ready." She pulled me. "I'll choose your outfit." She let me know, hooking her arm in mine.

We walked into the room I was in and she started going through my bag.

"God, don't you have anything worthy of a club?"

"I didn't come knowing we would go out." I defended myself.

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes. "You have to be prepared for all, though."

She stirred a little more until she screamed "yes" and ran out of the room.

I shook my head from side to side.

Crazy! My best friend was crazy.

"I have the perfect blouse for this skirt." She threw one of my skirts over me.

It was a short black tulip skirt with a pinstripe.

"And where is it?" I narrowed my eyes and she finally took the piece from behind her body to show me.

Simply something that could not be considered a blouse. I laughed. It was a white top, which could only cover breasts, with short sleeves and a wide U-neck.

"It's no use complaining." Hana said as soon as I opened my mouth. "You'll dress it and that's it." Decided and I huffed. "Let's see accessories now." She threw her shirt at me and clapped her hands.

Fifteen minutes later, Hana left to get ready herself, after being satisfied the outfit she had chosen for me: my skirt and the borrowed blouse, the Chanel necklace I got from Valerio for my birthday – last month –, her dangling pearl earrings and my doll-style shoes with a fine beak.

I took a quick shower, dried my hair with the hairdryer, just to not wet my clothes, and got dressed, putting on my accessories too – including my glasses. I finished with just mascara and gloss.

I was adjusting the necklace around my neck when the door opened and Hana walked in, already dressed up.

"Uhm, girl!" She flashed a cheeky smile. "You're hot as hell."

I laugh.

"You're not bad yourself either."

"I'm a knockout, Isabella!" She countered.

And it really was.

Unlike Maurizio who looked like his father in almost everything, Hana was the spitting image of Lucy, her mother – slanted eyes, full pink mouth, slightly upturned nose and sallow skin. She was breathtaking. And, although many traditionalists did not accept her and her mother well – sometimes, even her brother –, she had no shortage of suitors. Orazio had already received informal requests a few times, none that he deemed to be good enough for his only daughter.