◽GOOD DECISION?◽
◽MARIAN'S POV◽
"I'm not going to die," I told Martini for the hundredth time as he slid a knife into the holster. I mean, yeah, I looked pretty badass with all the gear, but I doubt they’ll let me bring a knife into the exam hall.
I know I'm going to fight a war, but it’s the kind you fight with a pen and pencil. I had a whole month to prep, and still, I wasn’t confident. I knew I was smart, but it had been a year since I left school.
"If anyone tries to attack you…" I cut him off. "Nobody is going to attack me. I’m not part of your Mafia thingy."
"You are," he said calmly. I raised a brow. "The moment you decided to carry Carmello’s baby."
What the fuck?
"Tell me you’re joking." I turned to BJ, who immediately avoided eye contact. "You all know what surrogacy means, right?"
……..
"I still don’t see why I can’t do it at my former school," I protested again, hitting Carmello’s usual brick wall of silence.
I realized arguing wasn’t going to change his mind. Besides, it was already too late, I’d already registered.
I won’t say I was secretly hoping the police would somehow find me through the registration process, but it never happened.
Carmello leaned closer, causing me to shrink into my seat. I almost whimpered, expecting the worst, but then he reached out to help me with my seatbelt.
God, this man!
And why does he smell like heaven, what perfume does he use?
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, astonished by the fact that I still feared Carmello despite all our time together. We didn’t speak until we reached the exam venue. Carmello had already told me where he would be waiting since I couldn’t bring my phone into the exam hall.
He was somehow reluctant to leave me alone, but my dreams and aspiration has been in place long before I was kidnapped.
I don't know why they all think I will be attacked but I really don't think I will care that much about it even if I knew. My life is already pretty much over.
I worked my ass off just to get here. I didn't want to stop just because I happened to be an unlucky victim.
Fifteen minutes before the exam, I started to feel queasy, likely from nerves. My hands trembled, and a wave of nausea washed over me, but missing the SAT wasn’t an option.
The test only happened once a year, and couldn’t predict what my life would be like in the next two weeks.
I took the Lexapro BJ had given me, then hurried to the end of the line, standing at the farthest end.
Taking deep breaths to calm myself, my heart fluttered in my chest as I took my seat.
Why did I think it was a good idea want to be a student again?
I clutched my pencil tightly, trying to channel my anxiety into focus. The familiar whisper of doubt crept in. What if I’m not ready? What if I can’t do this? I shook my head, forcing myself to focus. "You've got this" I told myself over and over , sitting down and trying to block out the noise of the bustling room and my racing thoughts.
I fell into the test’s rhythm.
The Lexapro had taken the edge off my anxiety, allowing me to think clearly and strategically.I focused on what I knew, and whenever I found a question too hard, I skipped it.
I had no idea how I did it. I just found myself outside the hall, scanning for Carmello’s Audi. I shrugged, a small smile creeping in. "I don’t know." It is not like they were going to scold me if I did bad in the test
Carmello chuckled. "Why was I expecting that answer?"
I’d learned early on never to boast about how well you did on a test. Give them doubt, and it’s even more surprising if you did great.
"I'm starving." He stared at me like I had grown two heads “what?“ I asked and he just opened the door for me
He opened the door for me?
I kept looking at him, still surprised. I wanted to be annoying, but there was no reason to be. He let me do my exam. He might eventually say I’m not allowed to use the result, and I sure as hell don’t want that.
He drove us to a restaurant, and the moment I saw where we were, I felt embarrassed by my attire. I turned to him. "Why would you bring me here when I look this raggedy?" I eyed him.
"Shut up and follow me, Marian."
Did he just tell me to shut up?
I rolled my eyes. "Looking like this?"
"Si." {yes}
And he left no room for argument.
"I’m going to follow because I have no choice, but I’m going to complain all the way there." I mean, he could’ve taken me to McDonald’s, but here we are in this fancy-ass place.
We got in, the respect and the amount of people attending to us was overwhelming.
Was this how rich people felt like daily?
I followed behind them wondering if he had made reservation without my knowledge
Fancy ass restaurants like this always needs reservation.
Why were they bowing to him?
They don't bow to me at chipotle, was I too poor then?
One of the attendants with the name tag Lanny helped me with the sit and placed a napkin on my lap.
Okay.
He handed me the menu being the pretentious ass that I was, I tried to read and the only thing I could was the name of the restaurant that was at the top of the restaurant.
After pretending for a while but was still unsucessful, I pouted and handed the menu over to Carmello.
He looked amused, fuck him.
Wait, A&A
They owned this place?
A&A was the Angelini pseudonym. I got to know that through Martini
The number one richest company in America. The same one people avoided in name, but funded daily.
We buy their food, shop at their malls and claim we will never help the mafia get richer.
I wanted to talk, but Carmello's expression screamed dont even try it.
“You guys own this place too, right?“
He looked away, clearly annoyed that I’d spoken when he obviously wanted silence.
He has no right to complain. He’s the one who brought me to a fancy restaurant in skinny jeans, oversized glasses, and a face bare of makeup. I mean, I look like a ghost. When was the last time I even saw sunlight?
"Non ce la fai proprio a stare zitta, eh?" {You really can't shut up, huh?} I should learn Italian, I know he is cursing me out in that sexy ass languge of his.
"Why’d you bring me here if you weren’t going to talk to me?" I asked, pouting. I stared at the plate he’d ordered for me because I couldn’t even read the menu.
I took a bite.
Immediate moan.
My eyes widened. Even though the rooftop was mostly empty, heat rushed to my cheeks.
I hate myself.
"You enjoy it that much?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.
That smug bastard. I wanted to be mad, but God, his voice. I have no defenses against that accent.
Even if he’s literally one of the most terrifying people alive. He just sat there, watching me. Tousled hair, arms folded, eyes analyzing me like I was an experiment.
If he told me to take my clothes off right now, I would.
Don’t judge me. "Why aren’t you eating?" I asked after finishing the spaghetti.
"Table manners, Marian." He was still staring. His loss.
I was still fuming when three men entered the rooftop lounge. Instant tension.
They moved like predators, heads held high, oozing pride and purpose.
Carmello frowned. I followed his gaze to the man in the center, the one who had on camo pants.
Gone was the calm, casual air. His entire presence turned cold.
“Carmello?” The man said, voice low.
Why didn't we go to macdonald's again?
ns3.17.9.140da2
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