Vain perfection

35 // Daring

Estelle

I watch apprehensively as Arturo Romani took his sweet time lighting the massive stick of tobacco wedged between his teeth. It was as if he knew that I was anxious, and was taking it upon himself to make this even more nerve wracking than it was.

We were in a secluded room surrounded by an intimidating assembly of armed men, a pervasive sense of unease lingered. Seated on a cushioned leather chair opposite Arturo Romani, I felt very uncomfortable.

My exterior was devoid of fear, bold and daring. But on the inside, I was a fucking mess. I try not to bite down on my thumb, my mother would always complain about how tacky it was, but I didn't really care about that right now. I just wanted this to go smoothly without having a lead bullet wedged between my eyes.

The drawn-out silence became increasingly irritating, prompting me to defy my own instinct for quiet. My brain urged restraint, but I couldn't adhere to it.

"Can you please tell me why you invited me here tonight?" I place my hand together breaking the silence. " I know you didn't call me here to smoke and drink in celebration."

I waited for his response while my heart thundered against my chest.

Maybe I should have just shut my mouth up.

A sudden eruption of laughter shattered the heavy air, providing a brief respite from my anxiety. Arturo's head tilted back, a facade of amusement on his face. However, even a fool would be able to tell that it was fake. His laughter was a hollow echo, devoid of any genuine emotion, leaving his eyes untouched by the pretense.

"What they say about the Americans must be true." His eyes trained on me. "You have no fear at all."

Inhaling deeply from the tobacco stick, he exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze unwavering on me. I allowed my eyes to wander across his features, noting the uncanny resemblance to Ares, he was an older version of him. The steely grey eyes were replaced by malicious brown ones, altering the familiar face into something more ominous.

He spoke with a calculated coolness, punctuating his words with smoke rings. "I'd crafted the perfect life for my son long before you were even a fetus," he declared. Another puff of smoke hung in the air. "Can you comprehend the infuriation of witnessing something you meticulously built from scratch begin to waver?"

A deep frown etched across my face as I addressed him. "Mr. Romani, I fail to see how any of that concerns me."

What was wrong with these people thinking they could dictate how a grown man should live his life?

I was appalled by the words he spoke. He was talking as if Ares was solely brought to the world to realize the dreams he couldn't achieve, like he was a pawn to him.

His response lingered, deliberate and unhurried. "My son never defied me or my commands until you entered the picture," he began, his tone measured. "I typically don't bother with who he shares his bed with, but you're becoming a complication I can't ignore."

"Did it ever cross your mind that Ares might not want to walk in your obedient footsteps? What if he's ready to live life on his terms?" I questioned, tilting my head. "Don't pin your failure to tame him on me; that's your responsibility. Own up to it."

His composed exterior melted immediately those words left my mouth. The anger on his face was as clear as day, I had pissed him off.

His eyes looked like that of a predator as he looked down on me. I wasn't scared of him, I was scared of what he might do to me. He looked like he was seconds away from strangling me, but I couldn't stop myself from saying what I really thought about him.