Chapter 7 Party
~ NALA’S POV
Earlier today, Carlos mentioned that there’s a party happening tonight. He didn’t really explain what it’s about, which leaves me a bit in the dark. Instead, he just handed me a stunning dress along with a couple of other essentials I’ll need for the event. Since I’ve never attended a party before, I’m feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I really hope it’s not as loud and chaotic as I’ve heard parties can get.
Though the party is not my conch right now- my reality is. Honestly, I still can’t believe it. My mind is still trying to wrap itself around the fact that I will be living with Carlos in his house now. It’s hard to believe this is my life—married to a man I hardly know, all because I witnessed a murder and because he has strong feelings for me. I’ve never really had friends; my entire world revolved around Fiona and Richard. But now that I’m in this new life, I can’t shake the feeling of being out of my depth. Everything feels so surreal and chaotic.
After a bit of effort and help from the female servant, I finally finished dressing up in the beautiful black dress that Carlos picked out for me. I’ve never felt this fancy before. My hair is curled perfectly, and I’m wearing high heels that make me feel taller and more confident. I can’t help but feel like a princess—something I’ve always fantasized about but never thought I’d actually get to experience.
As I admired my reflection, my attention shifted to Carlos, who was standing behind me. I caught his gaze in the mirror, and he looked at me with such intensity that it made my heart flutter. He smiled and said, "Wow." He walked closer, and I turned to face him. His eyes held mine as he leaned in and said, "You look absolutely beautiful."
"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep my smile from turning into a grin. I’ve never felt beautiful before but I think I do today. The whole makeover just feels so good.
"Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand to me. I nodded, feeling a rush of warmth as I took his hand.
As we stepped onto the staircase leading to the living room, the lights abruptly cut out, plunging us into an enveloping darkness that felt almost suffocating. Just as panic began to creep in, a bright directional light flicked on, casting a sharp glow that seemed to zero in on Carlos and me, making us the center of attention. Flashlights erupted around us, slicing through the dark and temporarily blinding us as we made our way down the stairs side by side. Carlos’s hand rested gently on my waist, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze on me, as if he were mesmerized by my presence, drawing me in with an intensity that made my heart race.
I fought the urge to acknowledge the way he looked at me, pushing forward as unease settled in my stomach. We walked further and as much as this feels good, I honestly can’t wait to escape him but I don’t know how I can possibly do that especially since Carlos will serve me good consequences of my actions. I’ve seen the way he became when I reported him to the police, I don’t want to do something crazy that would make him even more upset and violent towards me. The thought of him harming me or anyone I cared about loomed ominously in my mind. I could almost picture him tracking down my real parents, and the fear of what he might do if I crossed him was paralyzing.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, the crowd recognized us immediately, their flashlights dancing like fireflies in the air as they captured the moment. I stole a glance at Carlos; he was still smiling, but his happiness felt overwhelming, almost too much for me to comprehend. I couldn’t shake the confusion—why was he so elated? It’s just a party, him being so happy because of a party felt really weird to me.
We walked further into the room, which was alive with chatter and laughter. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with the clinking of glasses and the soft hum of conversations. I turned my attention to Carlos, curiosity bubbling up inside me, and asked, "So what now?"
He flashed a confident smile and replied, "We meet people and act like a happy couple."
I raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit skeptical. "Okay, but you haven’t even told me what this party is for," I pressed, wanting to know more.
He smirked, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "It’s to celebrate our wedding, silly."
"Ohh," I said, my surprise evident. I was slightly taken aback; I didn’t expect that at all.
"Yeah and you shouldn’t be surprised, there is nowhere I was gonna get married and not celebrate, I had to throw a party and invite everyone."
"Did you invite Fiona and Richard?"
He scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Of course I did. I would never throw a party to celebrate us and not invite your parents. But sadly, they didn’t come. I guess they’re mad at you or something."
"Really?" I questioned, a frown forming on my face. That didn’t sound like something Fiona and Richard would do, especially since they had been so serious about trying to pull me away from Carlos. I couldn’t believe they chose not to show up.
"Yes, but you don’t have to worry. I’m here for you and my family too," he said, trying to reassure me, though it didn’t quite take the edge off my concern.
"Okay," I sighed, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me.
"Let me introduce you to my family," he said, taking my hand and leading me toward a lively group of people who were animatedly chatting together.
We walked over to them, and a woman with striking blue eyes, who looked to be in her late forties, smiled at me. "You must be Nala."
I nodded, holding her gaze. She continued, "I’m Maria, Carlos’s mother."
"Mother?" I asked, surprised, and she nodded. "I look quite young to be his mother, don’t I?"
"Yes, you really do."
"I’m not his biological mother, but that doesn’t change anything; he’s still my baby boy," she said, smiling at Carlos before turning back to me. "Anyways, this is Caroline, my first daughter, Jasmine, my second daughter, and Stephan, my son, and his wife, Jenn." She pointed to each of them as they offered quick smiles in return. They didn’t seem particularly warm, though.
Just then, an older man approached us, probably in his late fifties, with distinct features that made him stand out. He had a charming pot belly that added warmth to his presence. His hair, peppered with gray, hinted at a life well-lived. I could sense a strong aura about him, leading me to believe he might have once been a mafia king—perhaps Carlos’s father.
Carlos then introduced him, saying, "Nala, this is my Papa, Giovanni Rossi Mendoza."
"Hello, sir," I said, trying to be polite.
With a warm smile that belied his strong demeanor, he replied "Call me Papa."
I nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze as he stepped closer to me. "Welcome to the Mendoza family, Nala. You're going to love it here," he said, his voice smooth and inviting. But as I looked into his eyes, the warmth of his words felt hollow. The smirk on his face hinted at something darker, making it clear that my experience here would likely be anything but enjoyable.