LUCA
I stared at my reflection in the mirror absentmindedly, trying to calm myself down before stepping out there to face my family. I ran a hair brush my hair and strapped on a gold wristwatch.
My family had always complained that I never related with them informally, but that was the whole point. I had to keep them out.
Becoming too free with them and dressing all casual would only mean that I would not be respected, especially by that old man called my father.
The past two days had been hell with him hovering all over me and Marta like a pesky fly, throwing the most absurd questions and shades at us.
I was ready to put him in his place when he asked me any questions about Marta tonight.
That damned lady. She was so stubborn that it pissed me off. She was lucky I didn't even strangle her on the spot for what she had done. I shook my head. Cleaning my room. Who asked her to?
My brows raised in suspcion suddenly. I had particularly warned her against entering my office. Grabbing my phone, I opened my CCTV footage as the cameras in my room were linked to my phone.
I watched for several minutes as she wiped every surface in the room, looking really bored. My brows knitted as I saw her open the door to my office.
Switching the footage to the one in my office, I watched her wipe and clean comtinually. Bored and annoyed by the mere sight of her, I fast forwarded it to the part where she had finally gone to the library and taken out the picture.
Embittered, I turned off the camera and shook my head to dismiss the thoughts of her. She didn't deserve my time.
A knock came at my door, and I opened it to see Sofia standing there with a mop. She almost jumped when she saw me standing there at first.
"You called me, sir," she stated, pulling in a mop and a bucket.
A sighed escaped my lips. I had almost forgotten that o called her. "Yes. Clean the damned blood off my tiles." I ordered.
I heard her gasp as she stepped into the room and spotted Marta's blood on the floor.
"Is there a problem?" I snapped impatiently. She was getting on my nerves a lot more frequently of recent.
She cleaned the place in a hurry and was about to leave when I stopped her. "Be ready for me after dinner." I snapped, holding her arm.
She paused and stared silently at me for a moment before nodding. "Yes, don."
As she left, I licked my lips and raked my hands through the hair I had just brushed. Whatever! A tousled hair wasn't the end of the world, was it?
*
"So, it's the husband alone today," Rosa stated as I strode into the dining room. She wore a very seductive and suggestive smile as she crossed her legs. Her short gown rode even higher.
I cleared my throat and sat down beside her, not saying anything. I just wanted to get this dinner over with and have them all leave.
"¿Qué pasa, hijo? Ya pareces angustiado. ¿Finalmente la has matado?" Alonso, my father, stated plainly cutting to the chase. (What's the matter, son? You look distressed already. Have you finally killed her?)
I pressed my lips into a thin line. He was just baiting me, obviously. Trying his best to make me mad.
"I'd actually prefer it if we ate in silence," I firmly stated in English. My father's eyes darkened, but he didn't argue.
There was silence for a moment as we all ate even though I could feel them stare at me continually. Wondering what the matter was, I looked up to see my little sister looking horrified as she stared at me.
"Hermano, ¿dónde está tu esposa?" She stated bluntly. I wondered if I was seeing things or if she actually looked very angry. (Brother, where is your wife?)
"Amelia, dije que deberíamos comer en silencio!" I gritted out, annoyed by the way she was disobeying me. (Amelia, I said we should eat in silence.)
Why did she even care so much about a lady she didn't know? Did she ever learn her lesson at all? I hated how she was getting attached to Marta.
She dropped her cutlery with a loud sound and stood up. "¿Es esa su sangre en tu camisa? En realidad, me agradaba, hermano. Ya sabes." (Is that her blood on your shirt? I actually liked her, brother. You know.)
It was at that instant that I finally paid attention to my shirt. The blood from Marta's foot drew a nasty line across my shirt. A curse escaped my lips. How had I not seen it?
I turned to Amelia, who looked very sad and hurt, feeling my own anger rise. "Veo que nunca aprendes. ¿Quieres que te rompan el corazón otra vez?" (I can see you never learn. Do you want to get heartbroken again?)
She sobbed.
"Creo que eres tú quien necesita aprender, hijo. Eres el mismo de siempre, después de todo. Enamorándote y luego viendo cómo te destrozan el corazón. Me recuerda a Susan." My father suddenly snapped, his fist slapping the table hard.
(I think you're the one who needs to learn, son. It's the same you, after all. Falling in love and getting his heart ripped out afterwards. Reminds me of Susan.)
My blood boiled at his words. "¿Cómo te atreves, padre? ¡Sal de mi casa ahora mismo! ¡Todos ustedes!" I growled, rising to my feet. My appetite was now gone. (How dare you, father? Get the hell out of my house, now! All of you!)
"Pero nuestro tiempo de visita ni siquiera ha terminado." My mother exclaimed, looking shocked and displeased. (But our visiting time isn't even over yet.)
Rosa also looked like she wanted to cry. My younger sister looked sad as well, but her anger overshadowed her sadness. My uncle just watched the drama unfold, his fingers intertwined under his chin.
"No discutas con él, Isabella. Obviamente tiene algo a lo que volver. Por ejemplo, enfrentarse a la verdad. Vámonos." My father stated, rising to his feet. He had a sour expression on his face.
(Don't argue with him, Isabella. He obviously has something to get back to. Facing the truth, for example. Let's go.)
I breathed heavily as I watched them all leave, feeling a relief settle within me. I hated being anywhere around the bitter old man.
Amelia intentionally brushed past me, shoving me as she left. If she wasn't my baby sister, she'd probably be dead now.
My uncle touched my shoulders before he left. "I hate to admit it, son, but you're actually caring too much about that lady than you should, and that's not a good sign." He said in English.
With that, he also left. His words annoyed me for the first time ever.
I needed a damned drink. Heading to my bar, I poured myself a glass of sparkling wine and downed glass after glass.
"Sofia!" I growled.