Ariella Garcia is an 18-year-old girl who dreams of leaving her current situation behind and starting a new life. She's fiercely independent, and her love for nature and animals is unparalleled. She's always surrounded by people who care about her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Where is mom?" I asked my dad, who had just finished talking to some partners. He shrugged, taking a sip of his champagne.
I sighed, sitting down at my assigned chair with a view over the ballroom. I rolled my eyes at the women trying to get my attention. I already belonged to someone, and a smile graced my lips just thinking about her.
I was nervous the day I asked her to be my girlfriend – probably the first time I couldn't stomach anything from nerves.
The last week with her has been amazing
"What's got you smiling like that?" someone asked, making me turn around and immediately scowl.
He sat down next to me, and soon an ober brought him a glass of champagne.
"I heard you're getting married," I said, staring at the large door, hoping to see her entering any moment soon. "You're finally settling down," I smirked.
He scoffed in response. "I'm only doing this because otherwise, my dad won't give me the mafia," he said.
"And the girl you're going to marry agreed? Do you even know her?" I asked, dumbfounded. I've known Mateo for most of my life; he's a year older than me. We met at many mafia parties, his father owned the Spanish mafia, and since we were partners, we had to get along.
He had a really bad temper growing up and was always closed off. I can't say we are friends because we aren't. We talk sometimes, but that's it.
"Yeah, I think she likes me or something, or maybe she just wants to brag about it to her friends, but I don't care as long as I get the mafia," he shrugged. "I met her two days ago, explained everything to her that it's just a contract marriage, and she agreed."
"Well, congratulations, I guess," I said, still a bit surprised that someone even agreed to marry him.
"I'm leaving; it's boring here. Want to join?" he asked, standing up.
I shook my head. "I'm waiting for someone," I said, still looking at the door.
"Don't tell me you have fallen in love?" he asked, now in disbelief. "I would have never seen this coming. You loved sleeping around," he said.
"Just shut the fuck up," I groaned, not wanting to be reminded about that.
He chuckled. "Well, I'd love to see the woman who stole your heart one day," he said before leaving. I could see him enter the ballroom through the glass, everyone making way for him as he glared at them, which made me shake my head with a small smile.
A few minutes later, my mother entered the large door, wearing a beautiful blue dress. My father and I made our way downstairs, my grandfather joining us and patting my shoulder with a smile on his lips.
Since his birthday, we have talked more to each other than when my grandmother died. Back then, we only spoke when necessary or when we gathered to remember her. I smiled, seeing he was wearing the chain I got him.
