He had that kind of visage that stopped you in your tracks. There was a sudden pose in my natural expression. I gaped openly as I descried his Sharp jaw and cheekbones. Body built like a brick carved to perfection. Dark brows were graceful and neat...
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Camilla's P.O.V
Today is the day. The day papa returns, the day my questions are hopefully answered. As well as seeing Alejandro all over again. I was excited and vigorous for the night to approach but a sense of nerve was clicking through my veins with worry and nausea. It was for sure going to be an eventful evening.
The sound of the car honking transpires us all to rush towards my fathers now Parked black SUV, proceeding through the massive grey gates. Everyone followed after my mother to greet and welcome him back. A familiar view came in vision, dressed in a navy made costumed suit, hair flipped backwards and the cigar that never left his fingers nor have they been anywhere but his lips.
"Olá meu amor." He kissed my mother first. Then came Carlos and a hug for Adrianna. As for me, I waited impatiently stomping my foot rapidly. My heart raced when he stood in front of me.
"Meu pequinah." He stretched out his arms guiding me into his chest for a sore hug. "How was the trip Papa?"
"Very interesting."
"Papa I need to talk to you," I said rather quickly.
"We will talk after tonight's ball, for now, go get ready."
"But papa..." I followed after him protesting.
"I will not repeat myself, Camilla." He said rather sternly.
"Yes, papa." I obliged.
"He needs to rest now you will talk later." My mother gave me a side hug and followed after him.
I decided to go back to my room to get ready. I might as well waste time. I stepped into the shower, toes flinching as they came in contact with the cold ceramic. Steam thronged the bathroom and the hot water felt inferno against my skin. My mind faded into dullness and my vision was in foggy illusions. The water-soaked me in steamy rivulets. I was mentally tired, my mind was begging me for leisure. I was an overthinker sometimes I even overthink my overthinking. Its a dilemma.
A while later I was already in my robe lying across the sofa. My gown was ready, positioned on my bed and the make upset on the dressing table in strands. Although I preferred not to apply ma would force the brushes of concealers on my face and I would be graced with her lectures, which I am in no mood for.
