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Estella Athena Knight. Always have been a special girl, she attracts the attention of the mafia king in a way that makes her blood boil.
August Nicolai DeLuca.
A simple game of cat and mouse, and a pool full of hatred and desire brought exciteme...
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"I'm gonna kill him." I slipped off the wet dress, dropping it to the floor as Spencer picks it up behind me.
"You can't kill him." Spence reminds me. I stood naked in my old bedroom, practically fuming with anger.
"I'm gonna take my steak knife and stab him in the eyes." I grin at the thought of watching his killer eyes bleed to death.
"We're not even having steak." Spence frowns but keeps speaking.
"But if you do, then you will have every gun in the room pointed at your head." Spencer sighs shaking her head, I watched as she picked up another outfit and handed it to me.
"It's ugly," I mumbled, knowing she's right. You can't exactly kill a Don, without having your head on a serving platter the same night.
Spencer sighed dramatically, picking up a white summer dress, it had a slit on the side. I slipped it on without any complaints.
"You must not let him get to you, I can already see that vain popping up." She tapped my forehead slightly, I widen my eyes looking into the mirror for that hideous vain.
"Don't play," I grumbled seeing she was only joking. Spencer is my best friend, more like a sister than anything.
I sat at the vanity looking at my reflection, my brown skin brightens from the white dress. My usual curly hair now slicks into a back ponytail as my baby hairs layout on each side.
"We should go down before your father calls for you," Spencer says softly, I believe she's more terrified of my father than anyone. I don't blame her.
Slipping back on my heels, I hooked my arm with her pushing down my anger leaving it in the childhood room with all my broken dreams.
𑁍
Je te laisserai des mots played softly out on the deck of the backyard. I kept my eyes on the flowers around my backyard and my ears blocking everything else out only listening to the music.
My heart tightened knowing my mother still took care of the garden. As a kid, my mother was only ever allowed to be in the home or out in the garden, my years growing up I joined her out here.
Helping her plant flowers, soon enough it became something I loved.
The hot August; the sun shines down on us, a small breeze letting us know our hot days will turn into rainy days. One of my favorite times of the year.
Everything was lovely, the food was good and the scenery was amazing. But the tension was uncomfortable, My father was at the head and August was at the other end.
