Marriage Of Convenience

Chapter 3

Clara Diaz

age: 17 years old

I hum along to Lana del ray as I mix teal and pink. After I am satisfied with the resulting color I apply careful strokes onto the canvas as a small smile plays on my lips.

Today is one of those days when I feel excitement brimming from every inch of my body. And its not just because it is Christmas.

I've thought I stopped looking forward to Christmas after my fifth birthday. I had to watch in horror as my father beat my mother to pulp because she was laughing at something Pierre said, and when I tried to intervene he locked me up in a room which was dark and I couldn't reach the switches.

I passed out while crying and since then I had nyctophobia.

But since three years ago my father never locked me up. He in fact tried to stay away from me as much as possible.

Sure he still hit my mother and he raised his voice at me some times but every time he did a sense of fear flashed in his eyes that took me back to the time when I eavesdropped on a conversation that struck to every inch of my being.

A conversation that made my soul warm and heart pound.

I close my eyes and let the conversation wash over me once again.

"Sebastian." His name makes me look up from my book. I was huddled in the corner of the library reading peacefully when my father came in.

Since I didn't want to cross his path I stayed still. He was in a comparatively good mood because of yesterday but I know that Sebastian must have made him angry by covering me up.

The memory sends a warm feeling in my body. I peek through a row of books to see his tall frame dressed in all black leaning causally against the door making that warm feeling increase.

I liked it.

I liked the warmth.

I liked this feeling.

"Carlos. I wanted to have a word with you before I leave." his voice, the deep and low one, sends goosebumps down my spine. "I saw what you do to your wife Carlos. No amount of makeup could cover that. And by the way your daughters flinched I can imagine what you do to her. While I get no say in what you do to your wife I do get a damn on what you do to the one who would be mine."

I could her pin drop silence in the room. The disbelief in my fathers face. His anger. His fear that he tried to mask.

My heart picked up. My vision clouded as tears sprung in my eyes.

He cares.

"You-you-" my father stuttered. I never heard him stuttering before and that he just did, bought immense satisfaction to me.

"Shut up." Sebastian snaps. "You touch a hair on her head, you will suffer. Harm her in any mental way again which I think is the current case, I will make the bratva's downfall look like a child's play compared to what will happen to you."

"Are you threatening me?" my father grits out.

"Hypothetically of course, Mr. Diaz. I'm sure you are wise and know what is in your best interest." he pauses.