Watching Her

Chapter 7: family is meant to support each other

I didn't know what to await me this evening. If my parents would be disappointed about something that had happened at school or if they had seen me and Luca exchange a few words again.

I'll fix it, do not worry about me.

It was only a simply Hello, how are you? Nothing more.

Already preparing a few excuses to end this night as soon as possible, the door opened, revealing a maid in what looked like her best uniform for this dinner. She smiled, yet looked down as she revealed the interior of the apartment behind her. 

My mother had always complained about the great mansions she had to live in once she married my father, so he decided to stop his new wife's complaints and bought a two-story apartment in one of New York's highest skyscrapers. She hadn't liked all the space that houses left to clean and how cluttered it could get in such a grand space, something she wouldn't have to worry about anyways, but that didn't matter. And this apartment portrayed exactly my mother's dream of living. Cold, empty, spotless. Like her soul.

"Miss Winterson." The maid acknowledged me, stepping aside to let me in as I walked inside, careful to not make a sound. I did not want my parents attention on me if it was not necessary, but staying undercover was just as hard as I expected it to be. 

The open foyer showed a piano I used to sometimes practice on when I was little and then perform in front of guests on. Now, it had been replaced. The cushioned seats around it seemed to be as soft as clouds, but once you had to experience sitting upstraight on them in tights, blouse and a skirt for nearly an hour and listen to your mother go on and on about how you have embarrassed them at dinner and how important it was, even your ass will begin to hurt. 

This place knew how to haunt me every time I came here. 

"Darling!" A tone I only heard when a guest was able to hear us. Something was going on. This sweet voice with so much anger behind it. 

I turned around after giving my coat to one of the endless maids in this apartment, my satin skirt swaying a little against my legs. Her eyes immediately faltered once she saw me, her open arms now crossed in front of her chest.

"How many times have I told you that your outfits are supposed to be the job of the assistants i hire." She hissed, looking at me up and down. There wasn't anything greatly wrong with what I was wearing, it just wasn't formal enough for my mother. The oversized knitted sweater above my golden yellow satin skirt didn't show much of my actual silhouette, something that was intended when I had picked this out. Yet, both of these were new, the sweater cashmere and the skirt silkier than my pillowcase could ever be. Even the new dark brown pumps which I didn't fancy at all, were new. They were new and pricey, but boring.

Her sudden change of tone and language had startled me enough to flinch a little under her harsh voice, now feeling extremely insecure. No matter how many times my best friend would call me beautiful, my mother would always be able to destroy this. She just did not see that I was wearing this for my own good. That dressing to suit my body type and showing my hips or breasts would only tear me down even more once pictures were made and seen by my parents. I couldn't bear crying and feeling like that ever again.

I nodded, and as quick she had acknowledged me, she had turned around again, going down the hallway. Under the chandelier light, I followed her, as our heels tapped on the simple black marble. It smelled like cleaning products everywhere, not even the faint hint of freshly cooked food could avoid this. Everything was so-

"Ah you're finally here." It was about time, my father had intended to say. He had ripped me away from my thoughts, something I was thankful for, only this once. He had not said what he intended to with his words because we still had a guest in the room. A guest who's eyes now wandered to mine. And only then I realized the truth. I took a step back when I recognized those eyes.

No. No, it couldn't be. It had to be wrong.

My breath hitched in my throat, the tingling down on my feet certainly not coming from my toes being slightly squished together by my pointed shoe. My arms politely lying in front of me were now looking for something to fidget on as I tried to remain calm while my parents talked about something I had decided to blur out. No, not decided. It had happened automatically. 

Those eyes, I could recognize them no matter the time or place. My mouth only hesitantly closed as I silently stuttered while I looked at him. Swallowing hard and long, I saw him, simply sitting there and staring at me. Those deep blue eyes. Those mesmerizing windows to a world wanted to be explored, letting no one out alive. This was more than eye contact described in love stories. I wasn't in love with him, it was something else. Something deeper, stronger. 

Only passion can make you feel this way, I was sure of.

The way he looked at me so fierce. His eyes could tell stories every child would be scared of at night. Stories I would kill to listen to. The way they could freeze me at any given time, how they had already twice. It was embarrassing, of course, but that didn't matter to me in this exact moment. The tingling moved up from my legs to my stomach, to my shoulders, goosebumps following straight after. 

"Celine, I want you to meet Mister Bane," My mother practically shoved me towards him as he stood up, her hand on my lower back. He was tall, I noticed, when he was finally standing up straight, his muscles straining the shirt he was wearing, not enough to be seen as gauche, enough to get every woman's attention if he wanted to. As he towered over me, he held out his firm, strong hand to shake mine. 

And now, I finally recognized him from the pictures Adriana and I had looked at during the wedding. Mateo Bane, ruthless millionaire without any ex-girlfriends or affairs. The amount of money and where it came from? No one knew exactly. Without one single mistake known about him. He was perfect. Dangerously perfect.

His eyes never left mine as I made the movement to shake his hand, a moment of blur. I couldn't remember anything from this situation, even if I wanted. There was no smile in his face, no gentle expression, just hard stone. A wall none could break through. There was no fear on my side either, not the kind of fear I used to feel as a little girl. It was different, the tingling was overcoming me more than I liked. At the same time, I didn't want to lose this feeling either. This fear that carried so much more than I knew.

A moment of silence between us managed to make even my mother uncomfortable as she continued to talk again.

Intense chapter alert! She finally meets Mister misteriosooooo! 

Update today came a tad, teeny weeny ittie bittie late, but I hope it's fine. Love anybody who votes and comments on my story, you are seen! 

See you next time when a new chapter is out.