Wrong time - Brando De Sanctis

10

Gia's pov:

As we stood there, lost in our own thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed through the gardens. Brando's eyes flickered towards the noise, and I followed his gaze. His father, Leonardo De Sanctis, emerged from the shadows, his face twisted in a scowl.

At the same time, my father, Leonardo Rossi, appeared from the other direction, his eyes blazing with anger. "Gia, what are you doing out here?" he thundered.

Brando's father spotted us and strode over, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the cigarettes. "Brando, what is the meaning of this?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

But it was my father who erupted into a frenzy. "You're smoking? With him? You're a disgrace, Gia!" he bellowed, his face red with rage.

I stood my ground, despite the fear coursing through my veins. "I can make my own choices, Father," I spat back.

That was a mistake. My father's hand flew out of nowhere, striking me across the face. I felt a searing pain as my head snapped to the side.

Brando's eyes flashed with anger, but his father grabbed his arm, pulling him away. "Not now, Brando," he hissed.

As Brando was dragged back towards the mansion, I faced my father's wrath alone. He continued to yell, his words cutting deep. "You're a whore, Gia. A filthy, disgusting whore."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to cry. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

The music and laughter from inside the mansion seemed to grow louder, a stark contrast to the scene unfolding in the gardens. No one came to my aid, no one intervened.