The man standing before Mira was Henry . Mira turned to face Christopher , who gave her a nod and she mouthed a thank you and turned to face her father once again. She didn’t bother listening to what the priest had to say, all she was concerned about was hugging her father. However she knew better than to keep her emotions in check. She didn’t want anyone from the audience suspecting a thing about them. After the blessing of the marriage, Christopher decided to give Henry and his daughter a private moment amongst themselves. He didn’t want to interfere in the father-daughter meet up, after a very long time of being distanced together. Christopher closed the door behind him and went to greet the guests that had come for his wedding. Meanwhile, with tears filled on her face, Mira rushed up to her father and embraced him in a warm hug. Henry couldn’t contain his emotion as well, as he held on to his daughter tightly. He had thought that at some point, he was going to die. When Christop
The next day, Mira was on her way to Northill to see Amy. She couldn’t wait to hug the woman as Mira believed she had gone through a lot. Christopher had ensured that many of his guards go along with Mira, as he believed he had so many enemies. When Mira arrived at North Hill and subsequently at Henry ’s mansion, it appeared as though they had been expecting her as a lot of people were outside the mansion when the cars pulled over.The momemt Mira stepped down, she rushed over to Amy, who was already in tears and engulfed her mother in a tight hug. The two were sobbing, while Henry and the rest of Mira’s siblings, who had all came back from their respective location watched on.“Deep down, I knew that you have always been my daughter. The instant bond we shared and my sudden ability, to let you into my secret is sufficient enough.” Mira smiled as she released herself from the hug. “Come on now, lets meet your siblings.” Amy grabbed her hand and they moved further to meet Henry, who a
My home was artistic. A red front door with a golden knocker. Black and white checkered flooring. A wooden staircase with a lacquer shine and a sparkling chandelier. However, I’d always wondered, If I pulled back a corner of the wallpaper . . . would it bleed red? If this world was as transparent as glass, soft splats would drip a pool to the marble floors.I stared at the TV in the corner of the kitchen, hardly processing the newscaster’s voice, but when murder passed her ruby red lips, the word resounded in my mind. My throat tightened as I twisted the ring on my middle finger.While my home, my life, was built on piles of dirty money, I’d always been able to say I hadn’t contributed to the balance. Not until earlier this year, that is. Now, blood was on my hands and guilt watched me while I slept.Voices from the foyer drifted to my ears every time the swinging door opened as our servants came in and out, preparing for lunch.A feminine trill of a laugh, my cousin Benito’s lively t
In annoyance at the entire situation, my eyes had narrowed slightly before glancing at my future brother-in-law, only to find he was already looking at me. That was how the glaring occurred—an accident, you see. But I could hardly convey that to the man, and if I had smiled it would’ve come off condescending, so I just . . . went with the glare and hoped it wouldn’t get me killed.Nicolas’s gaze had hardened a flicker to show he didn’t like it, but after a second of heavy eye contact, he returned his attention to my papà like I was nothing but a leaf blowing by. I’d let out the breath I was holding and went to hide in the car. There was no way I was meeting him after that exchange. I’d just avoid him until the end of my days.“Stop worrying and trust your papà.”I made a hmm noise because I’d overheard from my cousin Benito that the alliance was for collaboration on some weapons deal, nothing more. My sister was a pawn in some large-scale trafficking agreement. How romantic. Even so,
Papà frowned. “When did you two have the chance to meet?” I swallowed.Something amused and dangerous played in Nicolas’s gaze. “Earlier at church. Remember, Mira?”My heartbeats collided with a crash. Why had my name rolled off his tongue like he was more than familiar with it?My papà stiffened beside me, and I knew why he did: he thought I’d done something inappropriate with this man, like his tone had suggested. Heat rushed to my cheeks. All because of one mistakeI’d made six months ago, my papà thought I’d come on to my sister’s fiancé?I blinked through my apprehension. This was due to a really short, not even that hostile glare? This man had found out my weakness and was now playing with me.Frustration clawed at my chest. I couldn’t very well go and make this situation worse by disagreeing with a don my father would most likely believe over me now. And so, I forced my voice into the lightest tone I could muster. “Yes, we’ve met, Papà. I forgot my jacket in the church and ran
My brows knitted. “Well, you didn’t exactly give me a good list. But Saudi Arabia is out if you’re planning on wearing this bathing suit.” I folded it and put it away.“Have you met him?” she asked, walking past me with a zebra-printed robe.I knew she meant her future husband.I hesitated. “Yes. He’s, uh . . . real nice.”“Where am I going to fit all my props?” She threw her hands on her hips and stared into her small suitcase like she’d just realized it wasn’t a Mary Poppins bag.“I think they’re going to have to stay here.”Her face scrunched up like she was about to cry. “But I love my costumes.” Tears were running now. “And what about Mr. Rabbit?” She grabbed the giant rabbit’s head off the bed and held it next to her own.“Well . . . I’m not sure about North Korea’s shipping policies, but I’m betting Mr. Rabbit won’t pass.”She threw herself on the bed and whined, “What about Cuba?” “It’s probably a better possibility.”She nodded like that was good. “I have an Alice in Wonderla
Condensation dripped down crystal glasses, and silverware glinted in the bright sunlight. It was a hot July afternoon, but the steady breeze was the perfect interlude.Lights wound around the wooden slats of the patio cover, and my mamma’s rose bushes were flourishing. The chairs were soft and the food was good, but it could only be so comfortable having lunch with a bunch of strangers. However, the seventies ad sitting across from me didn’t seem to share the same opinion.“Anyway, the cop let me go and he didn’t even take my coke—” “Gianna.” The word was a low warning from Nicolas’s spot at thetable.She rolled her eyes and took a deep drink of wine, but she spoke no more.I wondered why Nicolas had chastised her and what their relationship was. Siblings? They did appear to find each other annoying, but I was sure I’d heard somewhere that Nicolas was an only child. Gianna’s senior citizen of a husband sitting next to her hadn’t said a word, except for some oddly-timed chuckling. I w
Conversation quieted, and Gianna pushed her broccoli around on her plate like she was seven and did not like vegetables. Her husband chuckled at absolutely nothing. She rolled her eyes and took a large gulp of wine. Lunch continued with meaningless chatter, good food and drink, but the tension never dissipated. It sat there, uninterrupted. Like an echo before the words were even spoken. My brother leaned back in his chair, a ring sounding as he ran his finger around his wine glass. Adriana ate as though a large man she did not know and was marrying in three weeks was not sitting next to her. Papà mentioned that he had bought an old shooting range, and conversation on that drifted down the table like a domino effect. They had just served tiramisu for dessert, and I was ready for this lunch to end. But unfortunately, that uncomfortable tension was about to twist its way out of the inevitable. It began with an innocent suggestion between the men to visit the range. And then I watched