BOOK 1
Veronica Garcia, a smart and beautiful fifteen-year-old, had endured enough of her stepfather's abuse. One fateful night, during his drunken rage, she seized her chance to escape, fleeing to her abuelo's mansion for solace. However, her newfo...
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Veronica's POV
Recently, I have distanced myself from Marcus and noah. Actually, let me rephrase, I have distanced myself from everyone. Ricardo's death has really taken a toll on me.
I don't want to shut them out, but I can't help it. They have suggested to me multiple times about hosting Ricardo's funeral but I find myself time after time avoiding the subject.
I don't like it, I believe Ricardo deserves a funeral, the best of the best. But right now, I am finding myself unable to do so. He will have the best of the best, and with my state of mind right now, I feel as if I wouldnt be able to host it.
I close my book and move my legs close to my chest, I feel a sense of comfort and relaxation wash over me. I am now sitting in the cozy library of my home, which offers the perfect atmosphere for reading and relaxing. This is one of my favourite places.
I continue to sit and enjoy the comfort and relaxation of the library environment. I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall and the soft chirping of birds outside. The sunlight filtering through the windows creates warm, soothing light that fills the space.
I am startled out of my serene state when my phone rings suddenly, interrupting the peaceful silence. I feel a sense of annoyance mixed with curiosity as I wonder who could be calling me, and what they might want. I reach for my phone on the small table next to me and check the caller ID to see who it is.
I let out a sigh of annoyance as I answer the phone. I can still feel the irritation from the interruption.
"What do you want?" I ask, pissed off.
I hear a dark and breathy chuckle on the other line, "Well, hello to you too Malyshka."
"Why are you calling me Roman?" I ask annoyed.
"A reminder," He says smugly.
"And what's that, Darling?" I ask sarcastically.
"Darling?" I hear him laugh, "that's new. I like it."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, "Godamn it, Petrov. What do you want?" causing him to snicker.
"Just wanted to remind you, the dress code at the mafia ball." he replies
I scoff.
Like fuck I'm following his shitty dresscode.
"And that is?" I ask, already growing tired of this conversation.
