My Lover is the Son of a Mafia Leader

.51

Author's note: Flashbacks are in Italic. 

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTAL HEALTH; PTSD

.51 

"Are you ready? We're leaving in 10 minutes."

I turned my gaze to the man leaning against my door. His arms crossed on his chest. He's wearing his black trousers, a casual white shirt, and a black blazer, and I'm sure those glasses he is wearing will attract the female population tonight.

Biting my thumbnail, I shook my head at him. It has always been like this; I tend to get these heebie-jeebies every damn time. It can be annoying, but I have been trying my best not to let my nervousness control me.

He dropped his arms and gave a long sigh, "It amazes me how nervous you are when you have been doing these painting exhibits for the past four years."

Next week, there will be a painting exhibit showcasing all of my works. I have done hundreds of shows already, but I am pretty anxious about the event next week because it will be my first public appearance after being an anonymous painter for four years.

"You don't understand. There will be a lot of people..." I mumbled.

"A lot of people go to your exhibits, Calista. I don't understand what's the fuss all about."

"It will be my first public appearance, Kev!" I exclaimed.

His expression dulled and calmly asked, "So?"

I frowned at him. It's not the response I wanted to hear, and I hate how right he is.

Why am I acting this way? I don't like this. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Are you scared because a lot of people are going to your exhibit?" Kev walks toward me.

For the past seven years, Kev turned cunning and devilishly handsome.

He's always been handsome, but he evolved to something else. Something more dangerous, and I will be lying if I say that his charms and his stupid grins don't affect me.

Kev stood before me. I used to hate his closeness, but after spending time and living in the same house with him, I don't mind his nearness anymore. In fact, I feel safer when he's around.

I raised my gaze to meet his and Kev smiles at me then he leaned closer and whispered, "Or are you scared of seeing --"

I pushed him away before he could finish his sentence. I glared at him, "Don't stupid, Kev."

He chuckles and closes the distance between us again. Kev raises his right hand, and using his forefinger, he traces my bear shoulder up to my right ear and tucks the fallen hair behind it.

He cups my right cheek with his hand and caresses me slowly with his thumb, "Then what are you worried about, Calista?"

There's softness in his eyes now as he stares at me. I bit my lower lip and replied, "What if people won't like me?"

Kev's forehead creased. "What won't they like about you? You're beautiful, smart, kind, and the most successful painter at the age of twenty-eight. And if I see any fucker disrespecting you or any of your works, I'll kill them on the spot."

I punched him on the arm, "You're crazy!" I said, but I couldn't help but smile.

His expression turns serious. "There will be reporters, and your face will be published in every media outlet."