Get a hold of yourself, Ellie! This is what he wants—to substantiate to you how you are before him, like any other woman would be. Like the many more he lured. Come on!
Ahem!
"I..." I start, but stop with my mouth agape after I spot my shameless, immoral sister,
Nelly!
The way she is nibbling her lower lip with a hideous smile is giving me a stinging , huh? Her eyes are glued to just one spot, or precisely, the person right her, and I follow her gaze with the corners of my eyes just to confirm. Her stops at no one but Damian. I bet her brain is rolling somewhere under the , screwing him. My spine turns icy, and I gawk at her with a murderous stare.
Don't tell me she wants this one too! What? Can’t she find her own man that she has wait until I labor for her?
I tighten my grip on Damian's hand on the table and lift my eyes to him. Gladly, he 't aware of Nelly's gaze on him.
"He is a real charm, honestly. It won't be difficult for me to love him. I mean, who resist all this, huh? I would have the world know that I am giving us a chance."
I mumble, earning a loud cheer from anyone except the two witches across me, of .
Gracia seems like she is being compelled to stay here, and her miniature, well, her slut is itching her ass because she can't stop admiring Damian with her eyes, and that making my blood boil. Is she for real? I bet the whore didn't even hear my comment Damian. Wasn’t she satisfied with Leo? She wants to taste Damian too.
"Nelly?" I call, snapping everyone's attention to her.
"Mhh?" She calls, swallowing her embarrassment because she was late to withdraw gaze from Damian.
Everyone caught her staring. I love my man like the shameless whore that she has been. If she is mulling over screwing Damian, she better wake up from that dream before she pees in that horrible slumber. Or before I silence her for in that dream. I left Leo for her, but no one else. I would rather kill her than her humiliate me again. She is never again having what is mine!
"What do you think of my betrothed husband, sissy? Isn't he cute? Because I think I fallen in love at first sight here!" I query, sternly gazing at her.
She clears her throat first, fiddling with her slack hair and adjusting her posture. My!
The heat between her legs must be scorching her really badly.
"Of...cou..rse. He is..." She swallows hard, "hot." She throws me a glance, wearing bitchy crown on. "Take care of him, sissy. He seems like a rare gem that every would want to snatch! No offense, though, nor am I a threat."
No offense, my fucking foot! The nerve! The audacity of her! She should have just , "a rare gem that I am itching to fuck" instead. Bitch! I would love to see her dare, I swear, I would put a bullet right through her rotten hole!
"He sure is a rare gem, that I am sure. I am both lucky and special that he is all mine. I , fate reserved him for me only," I retorted, and I flickered a smile at Damian, is all smiles. He must really be getting a kick out of all this drama.
"Don't be too complacent, my dear." The senior mother-witch speaks, presumably in of her miniature. "There is absolutely no man in the whole world that sticks to woman. Keep your mind open to that because..."
"Gracia!" Mrs. Ricafforte exclaims. "Are you really saying that to someone who is to be your daughter?"
Well, she never was, and she will never be even a second mother to me. That is how I detest this skimming witch and her little devil-whore. What is it that she puked now, huh? What kind of mother says that in front of her daughter?
"Don't take this the wrong way, Mrs. Riccaforte,” and she just never knows when to zip her stinking mouth, does she? “I am being honest here. I mean no harm.
There is no faithful man, especially when he has so much power and beauty."
"I raised my son well, Gracia, so don't..."
"But you do not know what he has become for the years he has been away from you,” joy-killer, ill-wisher, interjects, sounding so gravely confidence as if this is only soud shit she has ever said. “There is clearly so much that you don’t know your son, Mrs. Riccaforte. I am just preparing my ‘daughter’ for what..."
"Gracia!" Papa yells, his stoic voice, though weak, cutting the walls and silencing , including the bitchy witch. "You have no right to be so disrespectful to our , and my daughter doesn't need your stupid opinions. Keep them for your own . She needs the lecture more than my own daughter. You..." He stops and his hand on his chest.
His breath is hiking. "Papa?" I spring to my feet, rushing behind him while Damian him a glass of water.
"Here, Mr. Riccaford. Drink this." Damian hands him the glass of water, and he takes sips.
"Should I call the doctor, Papa?" I query as worry creeps in, but he shakes his head.
"No, my dear. I am alright. It is nothing serious. I probably need to rest," he forces the out with so much struggle.
Curse these heartless witches! The way they are perched comfortably on their seats dead bodies in the middle of all this irritates me to the core. Screw you, Gracia!
"It is alright, my friend," Mr. Riccaforte says after a while. "You go and rest. We can the next step some other time. At least now we know our children won't run from this again."