His Shortcake

Chapter 5

Tamara Ramirez

As we walked past the living room, we saw Amelia sprawled out on the couch, snoring loudly. I couldn't help but stifle a laugh, but Dy's face contorted in disgust.

"Pig," he grumbled quietly, grabbing my hand and urging me to walk faster toward the door. "Jesus! That was... something."

Amelia's snoring echoed faintly behind us as we hurried out, leaving the sound of her slumber in the room.

I grinned up at him. "You get used to it," I said as he opened the passenger's side door for me.

Wide-eyed, he looked at me, horrified by my words. "I'd rather die!"

"Drama queen."

Shaking his head, he slammed my door shut and jogged to the driver's side.

Soon, we were driving through the bustling streets of New York City. The honking of horns, the swarms of people crossing streets, and the towering skyscrapers blurred past us. As we approached his house, a wave of nervousness crashed over me like a sudden storm. It hung in the air around us, palpable and thick, making me fidget with my hands and stare anxiously out of the window.

Buildings soared into the sky, casting shadows over the busy sidewalks where pedestrians hurried by. Neon signs flashed vibrant colors, competing with the glow of streetlights that dotted the avenues. The city's relentless energy seemed to intensify my apprehension, amplifying every heartbeat as I felt Dustyn's gaze on me, steady and reassuring amidst the chaotic urban backdrop.

The closer we got to his house, the more my nerves seemed to echo in the city's rhythm, creating a tense symphony that only I could hear amidst the cacophony of New York.

"Calm down, shortcake," he said, his smile evident.

"I'm so glad you find this funny," I muttered, rolling my eyes in irritation.

I watched as his shoulders shook with silent laughter, his smile widening and eyes twinkling with amusement. "Because you have nothing to be nervous about! Dad loves you."

"Your mom will eat me alive," I reminded him.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "She won't. And I'll be there to make sure she behaves."

"Okay."

"You ready now?"

"Yes," I answered with a smile.

"Good. 'Cause we're here."

The house exuded an aura of opulence that left me in awe as we approached. An expansive roundabout greeted us, adorned with meticulous landscaping and centered around a pristine fountain illuminated by delicate lights. Alongside the driveway, manicured lawns led up to the grand entrance, where double doors framed by elegant archways invited us inside.

Its exterior walls, painted in gleaming white, reflected the moonlight, while large windows emitted a warm glow from within. Every detail spoke of luxury and meticulous design, from the ornate ironwork on the gates to the intricate patterns in the architecture. This mansion stood as a testament to the Franco family's wealth and refined taste, leaving an indelible impression of grandeur and sophistication.

"Ready?" Dustyn asked softly as he guided me up the short five-step stairs.

Exhaling, I gave him a nod and a quivering smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."

A maid graciously ushered us inside, and beyond the imposing door awaited the heart of the house: the expansive living room where Dustyn's parents awaited. His mother's smile sent a shiver down my spine, its warmth tinged with a hint of something I couldn't quite place. In contrast, his father's smile was a beacon of reassurance, radiating paternal warmth and kindness.