My Pretend Romance in Sicily ✔ | 18+

venti.

Her golden eyes stared for a minute.

Then she scoffed. "If you think it looks good, then I've got a serious problem."

I rolled my eyes, standing to inspect the bottom of the dress. "The beads and sequins look exceptional because it's a mermaid dress." I said, nodding. "And the way they trail in from behind makes your figure stand out quite nicely."

She looked amazing. She really did.

A phone rang, annoying tone buzzing in the air.

"Rach, could you get that for me?" With her phone in hand, Clementine answered the line. "Hello?" She waited. "Mammina! Come va?" She exclaimed, laughing into the phone happily.

Not less than a minute into the phone call, Clementine's voice rose, and in the mirror, I could see how her face contorted into a look of pure hurt and disappointment. Her skin turned pink as she continued to argue in frustration.

Rachel's own phone light beamed in her face, bright screen illuminating her features as she tapped into it. "Shit." She whispered, before groaning.

I drew my brows together. "What's the matter?"

She sighed deeply, looking up from her phone and staring at Clementine. She looked from Clementine to me, and pursed her lips.

"Her mother won't be attending the wedding." My eyes widened, looking at Clementine in the mirror. Her face was red, mouth open as she held her mobile to her ear. Complete shock painted her face. "She thinks it's a waste of time."

Shucks.

My bottom lip jutted out. I reached my hand forward in an attempt to console her. "Clementine, I'm so so–"

She whirled around, making me jump back. Her golden eyes had darkened, burning into my being. "You." She seethed, and I scratched my nose awkwardly. "This is all your fault."

I frowned, taking a cautious step back when she took a dismaying step forward, hopping off the podium. "My fault?" My frown knitted. "What did I do–"

Clementine's lips curled, her face turning crimson as her anger coiled. "I'm not talking about my mother." She snapped, voice bitter enough to make me cower. "I'm talking about how you clawed your dirty little nails into Raffaele. You're like a leech that's poisoned his mind."

Rachel scoffed beside me. "Clementine, what the fuck–"

"Shut up Rachel." She retorted. I blinked. "At first, I thought you were just a slut–" She cackled wickedly. "But it seems to me you're becoming the sickening mistress I've got to deal with."

"You don't get to speak to her like that." Taya bristled, defending me angrily.

"Oh," Clementine mocked. "Don't even get me started on you missy." She pointed her finger at Taya, leering. "Your entire family's infested with leeches, and the one abominable thing you've both got in common is just how loose," she panted, villainous gaze flicking between Taya and I. "and trashy you are."

I didn't say anything. Taya didn't say anything. I felt dizzy, and looked weakly over at her. Her mouth was parted slightly, hands fisted, and for the first time, she had been reduced to her emotions, confidence no longer glowing.

"Do you know what Marcello said to me, Taya?" She hissed, reeling Tay's name off her tongue like poison. "He said he only fucked you for the experience."

Time stilled.

"No he didn't..." Her voice cracked.

Clementine laughed again, and it echoed nastily in my ears.