𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐭 𝐃𝐞 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚
25 years old, a billionaire and Mafia Don. Everyone fears, admires and respects him.
𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬
20 years old and works in a bakery. Despite having a bad past, she is a really sweet and down-to-earth per...
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The clock in my room ticked loudly in my silent room. Cool breeze swayed through the windows and into my warm abode, indicating the welcoming of winter. This summer was so hectic due to work, I almost forgot how much I loved this serene weather.
Clutching the snow-white cardigan against my chest tightly, I blow air on my palms and rub them hastily to create some friction. I walk over to the tall window in my bedroom and shut the window quietly. The last thing I wanted was to catch a cold. Mrs. Clinton will kill me if ask for leave. She will surely cut it from my payment, which I can't afford to let happen.
Again, I walk back infront of my small closet. It was almost seven in the evening already, an hour before my 'date' with Elliott, if you could even call it that. It still didn't fail to surprise me when he asked me out. This was probably the first time someone asked me out. Sure, two or three boys in high school used to have a crush on me, but they never initiated any move. I am glad they didn't. My uncle would have killed me if I even dared to look at the direction of an opposite gender.
A frown stretched out between my eyebrows, as I rummaged my hands through the pile of clothes. They were all messy and untidy, yet I couldn't bring myself to organize them again. My body becomes completely drained out after coming back home after work.
I absent-mindedly throw one dress after another, until one of them catches my attention.
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It was an off-shoulder, black velvet dress with georgette sleeves. It looked pretty and simple. A smile breaks onto my lips and I caress the soft material by my hand. This was my birthday gift from Levi last year. I never got the chance to wear it and this date seems like the perfect reason to utilize it.
After slipping into the black beauty, I take out a pair of black stockings from the closet's drawer and pair it with the dress. I didn't want to dampen my mood by eyeing my scars, so I hiding them is the best option.
Finally, I complete my look with a thin layer of pink gloss over lips and some high black boots adorning my legs. I looked okay, I guess.
My phone vibrates from beside me, as I make my way out of the apartment and begun locking the door. The bright light of the phone almost blinds me, as I swipe my notification bar. It was a text from him.
