His Princesa Mexicana | 18+

F I V E

The men snap their heads back to the papers in front of them, each muttering a careful apology to both me and Aldo. But it doesn't reduce Aldo's anger; instead, he continues the meeting with the most obvious deathly threats, delivered with an equally deathly face. When the meeting is urgently ended, due to Aldo's incapability to stomach them any longer than he already has, the men rise to their feet at unmatched speed, and I swear I can almost hear their happy thoughts as they rush to the door and politely excuse themselves as they exit the room.

During the immensely entertaining-to-watch meeting, I prop myself in the middle of Aldo's white bed to have a good view of the real-time comedy show. Now, Aldo angrily crumbles the documents in between his hands, muttering something about killing them, which makes me laugh. He shoots me a look. "I'm glad you find it funny because I actually might kill them, dirty old fuckers." I get myself off the bed and walk towards him. "They're not that old." He shoots me another deadly, but threat-less look, making me giggle. I might give this man high blood pressure with my antics. His scowl comically turns into a soft-edged smile. "Look at you being a clown first thing in the afternoon."

I cross my legs, one over the other, as I sass back. "I guess it's true what they say, sleeping makes you funnier." He gives me a mischievous look as he reaches for the glass of water. "Oh yeah? Who says that?" I roll my eyes and chuckle. "Literally everyone says that. It's a very well-known figure of speech. You would know that if you were linked in the society." He laughs audibly, his head tipping backward. We continue to joke around for a while before Aldo's face becomes more serious, causing the room's atmosphere to wholly shift with him.

"You know," he says, which causes me to fix my posture, positioning my palms under my thighs. I nod my head in acknowledgment, and he continues. "I wanted to talk with you because I wanted to apologize for suddenly cutting ties." I smile softly and open my mouth to assure him that his intentions are appreciated, but he interrupts. "I know. You don't blame me. You said that yesterday. And that's what I want to talk about. Thank you," he places his cup down and looks at me through glassy, sincere eyes, "for still trusting me."

At genuine vulnerable moments like these, my mind completely blanks out, and the result is complete awkwardness. "I don't...um..." I begin and immediately fail to form words, so I decide to be honest rather than messy. "I don't know what to say back." He chuckles, lightly tapping his thighs as he stands up, middle-aged men's actions, I thought, but he doesn't need to hear that, not now at least. "I know, you were always an awkward kid," he heads toward the door, but I'm immensely offended. It is true, I'm awkward, but he didn't have to say it out loud. I stare at him in disbelief as he picks up his keys and turns to me. He looks confused at my expression. "What's that look for?" I decide to ignore his question and ask my own. "Why are you taking your keys? Are we going shopping?" I spring up from the chair, my expression completely changed, and immersed with joy.

Aldo giggles. "Yeah, come on." He swings the door open, and within seconds, I'm out of that room, already thinking about the clothes that I'm going to buy.

______.______

Rolling my bottom lip under my teeth, my chest fills with pride as I stare at my wardrobe. After our five-hour shopping trip, which caused Aldo to go back and sleep in his car while his men followed me for protection, we came back home, and I immediately got to work. I unpacked all the clothes that I had brought and hung them inside the closet, organizing them according to a colour code. With my palms on my hips, Aldo waltzes into the room and looks at my wardrobe. "This looks like a rainbow vomit."

I put my hand up in his direction but don't face him. "Not right now, Satan. Not right now." I rotate my palm and give him the middle finger. "This is my proudest moment, and I will be damned if I allow you to ruin it for me." He lets out a low whistle. "This is your proudest -" I face him, smiling with ill intentions, and interrupt him. "Continue that sentence, and I will put you six feet under. Do you want to try me?" He smiles and raises his hands, gesturing surrender. "Fine, I will drop it. So, pick an outfit," he pivots his head to look at my newly purchased clothes, "out of the three thousand clothes that I bought because I want to take you out for a fancy dinner."