➦ Ramirez -
Life isn't always the fairytale we're told it is. Growing up, I never knew my dad and my relationship with my mom was far from stable. Despite the challenges, I was determined to create a better life for us. But everything changed whe...
and also tell me if you guys like my writing style? it's different from other authors I've read so I'm not sure I you guys are used it
let me know!...and now enjoy chapter three of "deadly saints"
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RAMIREZ ALEXANDRA
As the car comes to a sudden stop, I'm jolted awake, my heart racing.
I blink away the sleep, and my eyes widen as I take in the breathtaking sight before me. The house is stunning, imposing, and opulent - a mansion that seems to stretch on forever.
I can't believe my father lives here. My mind races with questions: How can he afford this? What is my life going to be like here? My emotions swirl - excitement, nervousness, and a hint of fear all mixed together.
I glance over at my father, and his warm smile and twinkling eyes put me at ease. He knew I'd be amazed, and his joy is contagious.
I can't help but feel a sense of wonder and awe as I step out of the car and take in the grandeur of my new home.
The cool breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers, and the sun casts a warm glow over everything. It's like a dream come true, and I feel like I'm walking into a new chapter of my life.
My father's tall frame and strong presence make me feel safe, and I feel a sense of belonging that I've never experienced before. We walk toward the grand entrance, and I can't help but wonder what lies ahead.
As we enter the house, I hear the loud voices of several males, their boisterous laughter and banter filling the air.
My heart races with fear as I realize there are at least five or six of them. I wonder if they're living here, and my mind starts racing with all sorts of terrible scenarios.
Are they my father's friends? Relatives? Or something more sinister? I feel a chill run down my spine as we approach the living area, and I try to hide behind my father's tall figure, feeling small and vulnerable.
As we come into view, they all turn to look at us, their eyes scanning me up and down. I feel like a fragile mouse surrounded by hungry predators, and my instincts tell me to run and hide. But I'm frozen in place, my legs trembling beneath me.
My father's presence is my only comfort, but even he seems imposing and unfamiliar in this moment.
"That's her?" one of the men asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.
