Isn’t He Married?

Isn’t He Married?
💎 Angel 💎

"Angel, please come here," Raul called from the closet, his voice carrying that casual authority I'd grown used to.

I responded immediately, stepping into the room to find him holding two vintage shirts, eyeing them with a contemplative frown.

"What is it?" I asked.

He looked up, biting his bottom lip as he held both shirts out for me to judge. One was a light blue with a complex geometric print, the other—white, with a bold black petal stretching over one side.

I glanced down at the white shorts he already had on and smiled to myself.

"The white one," I said, reaching for it. "It suits you—and the weather."

He smiled, slow and satisfied. "Thank you, tesoro."

As he got dressed, I turned to pack our things—making sure our towels, robes, extra clothes, spare footwear, and sunscreen were intact.

Then I changed into a floral white summer dress that grazed my thighs, and paired it with matching white slippers. 

I tied my curls into a high bun, securing it with a butterfly hairpin, then added a swipe of gloss and a mist of my favorite perfume.

Raul emerged from the closet, the white shirt clinging to his torso, teasing hints of the toned muscles beneath. 

I shamelessly let my eyes roam over his toned torso, clearly outlined through the thin white fabric.

"If you keep looking at me like that," he whispered, voice low, "don't blame me if we end up spending the whole day in bed."

He smirked, that smirk with a sinful promise in his eyes.

I swallowed hard and looped my arm through his as we headed out.

I didn't give myself even a second to hesitate—because if I did, I knew we'd never make it out of that room. Not with the way he looked at me.

"Abuela!" a small voice squealed as we entered the living room

(Grandma)

A little girl with bouncing black curls raced toward  Jazira, who scooped her up with a joyful cry.

"Oh...my baby."

Behind her, a woman in a blue summer dress walked in—tall, striking. Her tanned skin glowed beneath the light, thick black hair pulled into a stylish bun, gray eyes gleaming. 

A birthmark ran along her neck, and her features hinted at the D'Amano lineage.

"Mamà," she greeted, embracing Jazira warmly.  

Just then, Luca and Bianco strolled in.

"It took you long enough to bring my granddaughter to see me," Jazira scolded.

"I'm sorry, Mamá. Blame Edmundo, and work at the company. It's been a lot for us." She explained with a sheepish grin.

"I'm just glad you're here for the vacation. And where's he?" Jazira asked, her eyes searching the door.

"Edmundo arrives tomorrow evening," she announced.

Satisfied, Jazira nodded, and the woman finally looked our way.

"Hermano," she smiled, walking up to Raul.

"Mia,"he replied, slipping his hand from mine to pull her into a tight hug.

Mia.

The name clicked—last night, Jasira had mentioned her. She is the stepdaughter I'd heard about. 

"I missed you, piccolo," she said with affection. "And you haven't called! Don't tell me it's because of that fake wife of yours."

So, the world knew Catalina wasn't all glitz and grace after all.

"Phones work both ways, sis. If I didn't call, why didn't you?" Raul raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm always busy, hermano."

"Oh...And I'm jobless one?" he shot back, sarcasm dripping as she glared playfully.

Their light bickering made me laugh quietly.

"By the way, where's your 'perfect' wife, anyway? Shooting in Paris? Or New York this time?" Mia rolled her eyes.

I couldn't help but snicker, which caught her attention.

"And who's this—"

"Uncle!"

The same tiny voice interrupted, and we turned just in time to see the little girl running up the stairs, her black curls bouncing with every step.

"Nikki!" Raul bent down and lifted her into his arms.

"Uncle Raul, why didn't you come visit me? I missed you so much!" she pouted, her soft voice melting my heart.

"I'm sorry, princess. Uncle's been busy. But I promise I'll make it up to you this summer, alright?"

She giggled, then planted a kiss on his cheek.

Mia cleared her throat, arms folded, glaring like she was forgotten.

"Seems like you've lost all sense of courtesy, hermano. Aren't you going to introduce me to the pretty lady?"

Her eyes met mine warmly.

"What's your name, Angel?"

Raul and I exchanged a look and shared a smile.

"That's actually my name," I said softly.

Her eyes widened with delight. "Well, it suits you. You really do look like one."

I blushed lightly at the compliment. 

"Thank you."

"So... who are you to my brother? His girlfriend?"

"Why would you think that, Mia?" I teased. "Isn't he married?"