Cara's POV..
To pull my hair up or let it fall down in all its voluminous glory. This was my current big decision as I stare at the reflection of my face in the old, blurry mirror of my vanity. I had been at it for a good thirty minutes.
I usually wasn't an indecisive girlie but when I had to do something I didn't want to do or lacked motivation for any task, I had a hard time being precise and organised about it.
Take this stupid event I was to be at in less than two hours for example. I had dreaded it all week, in fact it had been a constant lump in my throat and a heavy rock in my belly. I so didn't want to go, but the consequences of defying my mother would be way worse than a few torturous hours with the Salvatores.
F u c k this.
I didn't want to see my mother's haunting face or that of her murderous husband who I couldn't stand or her equally, or maybe even more, murderous stepson.
Thinking about my mother's stepson, I groaned aloud.
I loathed the thought of having to be in close proximity with Luca again. Not that he never was. He had been an unshakable shadow this past week, I never did see him but for some crazy reason, I felt his forceful presence hovering around me, following me, watching me.
And strangely, I wasn't uneasy enough about it as much as I wanted to be. And it irritated me to no end.
After that incident in the hallway, my mind has been a total mess. I was angry, embarrassed, and my ego was deflated. No man had ever made me feel such loss of control since Dave from grade eleven.
But Luca Salvatore did and I despised him for it. I was the seductress, men wanted me, begged to have me even. I usually held the reins and when I didn't, it was because I let them take it. Either way, I was still in control.
But with Luca Salvatore… Gosh!
It had felt like the total opposite, I had felt like his instrument of pleasure and he played my body to whatever tune he desired. And I le hght him.
I was so blinded by a lust so heating I let him take control of my body, I let him work my body to new heights of desire and we didn't even have s e x.
I grabbed my brush and ran it through my soft locks for like the hundredth time. Only this time, with more aggression.
He had been on my mind ever since that day. Had slowly bulldozed his way in, just like his imposing and bullying ass would.
I hated men like him; arrogant, overbearing and dangerous. Growing up in the mafia world, a world filled with nothing but blood and danger, I had learnt to avoid such men like a plague. But I was suddenly beginning to understand what my blushing female classmates meant whenever they gushed about their favourite book bad boys. The supposed thrill and excitement.
I felt a thrill alright but then again, I wasn't stupid like the bad boys' female interests. Nothing good could come out of getting involved with my stepbrother.
I'll be damned if I do. I gave my hair one more brush then fluffed it.
I stared into the mirror for another minute, my choice finally decided on. "Hair down it is."
I picked up my favourite red lipstick, one of the trendy MAC cremesheen lipstick. I got it at a fifty percent off discount from a hjj some months back and I've been obsessed with it ever since. The colour was perfect for my skin tone and lip shape.
I inspected my reflection for any oddity in my appearance but I found none. I was ready.
***
As I walked into the grand courtyard of the Salvatore estate, I could barely recognise the place. The decorations were completely different from the one of my mother's wedding reception. It almost seemed as if it were two different places.
Unlike the soft, flowery garden decor of the reception, today's event took a much bolder theme. Red roses and some wild flowers bloomed from hanging baskets and the floor of the courtyard was covered in fake lawn grass.
As I took in the opulence of it all, I couldn't help but think how nice it was to be this rich. Lord knows my idea of redecoration was a printed poster of a badass quote I stole from Pinterest. And maybe a second-hand carpet and throw pillows.
I wondered what exactly made all of these mafia royalty gather here today. My mother hadn't cared enough to mention and I was too embarrassed and annoyed to ask Luca. I didn't even have his contact but I could bet on my tuition fees that he had mine.
I spotted my stepsister, Gina, with a few other girls of her age. They were giggling and whispering about whatever it is teenage girls are into these days.
My mind drifted back to my one and only meeting with the girl, still miffed at the unfriendly treatment she gave me. I studied her for a bit, noticing how her smiles and laughs didn't reach her eyes. It suddenly occurred to me that the young mafia princess wasn't just the obtuse, haughty princess I pegged her to be. There were storms behind that pretty facade.
"Cara," a voice I recognised as my mother's called behind me.
I turned around, "mama." I greeted, suddenly feeling self conscious of everything. For the first time since I put it on, I wonder if wearing the backless, dark green dress was a mistake.
Not like I had a lot of options to choose from anyway. It was either this or a shabbier looking thigh length dress or the one I wore to the wedding.
My mother was smiling at me, "come greet Manuel and his partners."
I stiffened but I followed her anyway. It took us longer than it should to get to the other side of the courtyard and it was all because my mother would stop and play hostess with other guests. I stood like a log when she introduced me as her "precious adopted daughter" not at all fazed by the pretense. It was always how she was in front of people. She never did let anyone see the true nature of our relationship.
I'd give it to her really, I mean what other way could she have buried her shitty past if not rebranding her image into a benevolent high society mafia wife.
I could bet she currently had a charity foundation in the works.
We finally get to where Manuel and his other criminal friends were seated and my mother repeated the sickeningly sweet introduction she had been doing.
"Manuel, Cara is here." She smiled at her husband then faced the others. "Gentlemen, this is my daughter Cara."
I forced a meek smile on my face as the men appraised me. It made sick how their eyes roved up and down my body.
"She's beautiful," one of them said grinning at me.
"Indeed," another one with a long scar running from his eyebrow to his chin said. "We might need to quit our business discussions for marriage plans Salvatore."
I froze.
Manuel laughed, "now now McKell. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Your son is still too busy getting accustomed to his new role as don of the Irish mafia to consider marriage."
My body loosened a bit at his words but the feeling was short-lived as another of them suggested his nephew. I could feeling panic stomping its way up my body.
Manuel was silent, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I registered in alarm that he was considering their suggestions. My breaths became irregular, marriage was the last thing on my agenda. I still had school to finish, a lot more to experience. I didn't want to marry now. However, watching them discuss it as if it wasn't my marriage they were talking about, as if I wasn't in the room, made it evident that what I thought about the subject irrelevant.
This was how it was in the mafia world. Women don't get to have a say. I suddenly felt nauseous.
"I believe this is a task meant for me." an achingly familiar voice spoke directly behind me.
I mentally steadied myself before turning to face my stepbrother, my entire body thrumming alive at the sight of his glorious form.
He was achingly handsome in the grey suit he wore. His strong jaw clean of the stubble he had the last time. His black was hair styled of his face, giving him the appearance of an aristocrat.
I liked it better when it was messy.
I inwardly groaned at the stray thought, hoping to God that I wasn't spotting a blush on my cheeks.
Luca strode forward, stopping directly beside me. Too close for my comfort. My skin suddenly alive with awareness.
He acknowledged his father's company with a curt bow of his head before continuing, "you don't need to worry yourself about it father. I'll be sure to pick the best options for Cara and Gina."
Manuel considered this for a second then nodded in agreement. "Of course, I trust you'll do."
The old men grunted and mumbled but none of them objected.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I'll like to introduce Cara to a few people." Luca announced and I fought a shudder as his hand rested on my the bare skin of my lower back.
It wasn't until we were out of earshot that he spoke to me. "You really don't own any proper clothes do you."
The appreciation for getting me out from there died a sudden death. The thank you I was going to say stumbling back down my throat.
"You seem to forget not everyone has the dirty money you own in abundance."
His eyes grew dark, "I might not be an expert on the subject but I am sure even poor people are able to afford decent clothes."
What a jerk.
"Well too bad for you, I'm not a decent poor person." I returned flippantly, happy at the tiny tick in his jaw my response elicited.
Whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by a flowery feminine voice.
"Luca?"
The both of us turned to the direction of the voice and I let out a soft gasp. The owner was beautiful, so stunning I briefly wondered if she was real. She catwalked towards us, her sparkling gaze trained on Luca.
When she got to where we were standing, she grabbed his waist and pulled him down for a hug.
"I've missed you." She cooed into his ear.
My eyes threatened to pop out of their sockets.
What the f u c k?