Incendio (in·cèn·dio)
Sitting in the corner of a very dirty dark room, frostbitten by the cold tiles, was no other than the infamous Mila Gutierrez who had her face planted into the bridges of her shivering knees. She felt the harsh prickles of cold gliding all the way underneath her satin dress to pierce her skin with goosebumps turning it into a darker shade of blue. No one has even bothered to feed the starving girl.
Every time she heard shuffling outside, it was simultaneously followed by loud laughs and by "Is she calling for her daddy dearest yet?" which made her punch the wall behind her for comfort. Yes, she felt comfort in pain. It was her safe ground.
Her reassurance of existing and not dreaming.
The door creaked as someone entered the room. The stranger man knelt in front of the silent bronde examining her face closely with a finger placed underneath his chin. Mila couldn't see his features clearly because of the dark, but she could tell that he was quite tall with dark hair maybe brownish.
"I never imagined that I'd meet the infamous Gutierrez Heiress in my entire life, but I guess fate is kind of funny. You think?"
"There is nothing called "fate". We create the chances- It's all our doing, but we being modest or maybe just ignorant...call it destiny." Mila smiled bitterly.
"Well in that case... Would you say it's your own doing that brought you here? Or maybe it is actually destiny that honored us with your magnificent visit?" The unknown man raised an eyebrow faking confusion.
"Well if you call enforcing your own actions upon others as "destiny" then you sure are lacking in the definition process. You feel me?" Mila rolled her eyes giving him a look of disgust afterwards,
"I don't think any of us is really in place of making definitions right now, so let's just leave that for Merriam Webster. Now get up and wear this." Throwing an oversized white t-shirt at the bronde, he got up and turned around giving her privacy to change.
Mila made sure that he wasn't peeking before taking off the black satin dress she was wearing and placing it beside her mask on the floor. Swiftly, she put on the oversized t-shirt which only went mid-thigh. She tried to pull it downwards but to no avail.
"Aren't there any proper clothes around here." The grumpy girl muttered underneath her breath.
"Well I'm afraid there aren't many people walking around with tits in here," The man shrugged before opening the door widely and pointing towards the door, "get out."
"What a gentleman." She mumbled.
Mila slowly trudged out of the door limping with every step she took forward. Her eyes roamed around only to find guards at every fraction of the corridor. She definitely seemed to have more guards outside of her room than any other area around here.
Walking behind the stranger man she could now observe clearly, they both took a turn at the end of the corridor where an elevator was situated beside a staircase.
The man entered the elevator followed by Mila who had two guards behind her. The whole situation made her feel as though she were a prisoner being accompanied for a trial because of a name she has inherited.
The wait in the elevator felt like eternity, but when the sound of a ding echoed in the spacious lift, the guards pushed her out impatiently. Mila's eyes widened in curiosity as a very huge ballroom appeared in front of her.
YOU ARE READING
Vendetta
Romance(Inspired by some true events.) Creating a masterpiece is quite an easy job. All you need is an artist, an assassin, a con-artist, a bomb expert, a hacker, and a spy. And Voila you can take over the world, or you can just create your own world inste...
