Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 1-2

In the bright sunshine, the driveway of the villa was green and the atmosphere was peaceful. The cobblestones, abundantly flowered, surrounded the huge house that stood before me. Made of ancient-looking stone, it was coiled in a sheet of greenery and had climbing vines. To the left, much further on, I could see an open kitchen overlooking the park behind the villa. I could have enjoyed this dazzling landscape in other circumstances, but for now, I was struggling to untie the knots in my stomach.

I entered a small courtyard on the right and discovered a patio with traditional Mediterranean charm, with a central fountain that brought a lot of freshness to the place. The small open-air lounge had the feel of a summer reception room. After a leisurely walk, I stopped in the middle of this place and started to look around me, amazed by the simply sublime architecture.

"Are you the young woman for the assistant job?"

Surprised by the voice that had just disturbed the gentle silence of nature, I gasped before turning back to her, then stammered, "Yes, but I can come back another day if you prefer."

I pulled my glasses up then wiggled my fingers uncomfortably in front of the short housekeeper. Her blonde hair, pulled back in an impeccably coiffed bun, accentuated the strict look on her slanting face. I prayed in my heart that this woman would dismiss me as soon as possible. She looked down at my baggy, oversized pants, then at my shapeless T-shirt before looking into my eyes with her piercing ones. I saw in them dismay at my repulsive appearance. After a second of reflection, she nodded before saying in a dry tone,

"We might as well get it over with now! I don't think the interview with Mrs. Khan will be long."

She turned around and motioned for me to follow her. Awkwardly, I hurried to join her.

"Mrs. Khan? Am I really going to meet her?"

The housekeeper stopped in the hall before turning back to me, then rolled her eyes.

"Peter really has a knack for choosing candidates. It makes sense for you to do the interview with her, since you will be working for her."

Then she examined me from top to bottom again before continuing, "I mean...doing the interview would be quite something. Mrs. Khan has already seen dozens of candidates and, no offense, but you don't fit the bill."

A sigh of relief escaped me upon hearing this thinly veiled reproach. I could hardly wait to get back to my normal day in a normal world. At my overly cheerful attitude, the housekeeper looked at me suspiciously. She was about to add something when a deep voice from down the hall interrupted her.

"Miss Abigaëlle, are you coming yet? Camilia is getting impatient."

"We are coming, Peter. Please announce the arrival of Ronney Jimenez."

The employee left before I even had time to see him.

The dark, narrow walls of the hallway were decorated with family portraits that reached up to the high ceiling. I had the unpleasant feeling of being watched. Several generations were staring at me as I passed. The black and white tiled floor made this place quite cold. At the end of the long corridor, the family portraits were warmer. I recognized the Khan girls: Aaliyah, Ghita, and Cyliane, real stars on social media and in the world of celebs. It was impossible to ignore these names; the whole country knew their every move. They were beautiful. Hadriel's portrait followed. He was the second son of Camilia. He was also very popular and was followed on the internet. The advertisers were fighting for his name. Billionaire at just twenty-eight years old, he had made the front page of the Forbes magazine this year. This family was wealthy. What am I doing here?

I suddenly stopped in front of the last picture and squinted as if to better observe every contour of the face of the man posing in it. He looked familiar, but I wasn't sure where I'd seen him. I tilted my head.

"Is this...?"

"Yes, this is the eldest son, Yeraz."

The housekeeper's voice was tinged with impatience, but I couldn't take my eyes off of that magnetic face.

Yeraz was the eldest of the siblings. Very discreet, he never appeared in the media whirlwind in which the rest of his family was immersed. Always wearing his big black glasses, nobody could recognize him in public. It was the first time I'd seen him with his face uncovered, and it was almost destabilizing.

"Miss Jimenez, Camilia Khan is a busy woman. We must not make her wait."

Abigaëlle nodded in the direction of the closed door. She suddenly seemed less sure of herself. My pulse quickened again. The matriarch, who was nicknamed "the Ogress" in all the newspapers, was just behind this partition. I could not go back. The nightmare continued.