Mariella grew up in the foster care system, abused every day until she found solace in the most unexpected form; Mateo, the son of an Italian mob leader.
Fate brought the two together, but when it tears them apart, how is she supposed to cope? Espe...
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Mariella's POV
"Mariella!" Vinny greets me at the door. I open it wider with the hand not currently holding my glass of water. My makeup is fancily done, courtesy of the makeup artists that Mateo hired until I can get my own supply. The red lipstick strategically applied onto my lips is a struggle to not mess up, but I've been able to prevent my drink from ruining it.
"Hey, Vin." I offer him a hug and a smile, which he returns.
I'm only wearing one of Mateo's large shirts that I had changed into after showering. It's a large contrast compared to my neatly curled, long blonde hair and the full face of makeup.
"How are you settling into the house, Kiddo?" He asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we make our way into the kitchen.
"House? I'm not even sure you could call it that. It's just so...big." I say, emptying the rest of my water into the sink. The ice clunks against the bottom of it, making the most annoying sound. Something about it makes me cringe. At least we have ice, though. Thank goodness for automatic ice machines instead of cheap plastic molds. "The kids like it, though."
"That's good, those kids deserve a nice place to do their own things. You'll adjust, it might just take some time."
"Yeah, I sure hope so."
He smiles, "Well you probably need to get changed, you guys will be leaving soon. Where are those piccoli?"
(T: Little Ones)
"They're playing in Vivienne's room," I inform him, gazing at my freshly painted red nails. This family sure does have an obsession with red.
"Thank you," He starts to walk down out of the kitchen when he suddenly turns to me, "Hey Mariella?"
I raise my eyebrows questioningly. "Be careful tonight," he warns before walking away. I linger in the kitchen for a second longer, thinking of his words. What does he mean by be careful? I thought this meeting was just going to be dinner among people that Mateo has already established a sort of peace with. I take it with a grain of salt, pushing it back before following the same direction he took to finish getting ready.
I enter the room, immediately welcomed to the sight of a dress draped over the bed. It's red, surprise-surprise. The fabric is shimmery, and silky to the touch. I run my fingers over it, taking in the fact that it looks ten sizes too small for me.
"You like it?" Mateo asks from behind me. Jesus, he needs to stop sneaking up on me. I hold my hand over my heart, trying to calm down from the scare as I narrow my eyes at him.
"Can you like, not sneak up behind me anymore? I really don't appreciate surprises like that, especially not after being taken out of a window that was smashed open seconds earlier."
