LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT

Get a hold of yourself, Ellie! This is what he wants—to substantiate to you how fragile you are before him, like any other woman would be. Like the many more he has 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 sensation, huh? Her eyes are glued to just one spot, or precisely, the person right across her, and I follow her gaze with the corners of my eyes just to confirm. Her ogling stops at no one but Damian. I bet her brain is rolling somewhere under the sheets, 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 to 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 isn'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 would 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 course.


Gracia seems like she is being compelled to stay here, and her miniature, well, her slut side is itching her ass because she can't stop admiring Damian with her eyes, and that is making my blood boil. Is she for real? I bet the whore didn't even hear my comment on 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 her gaze from Damian.

Everyone caught her staring. I love my man like the shameless whore that she has always been. If she is mulling over screwing Damian, she better wake up from that distant dream before she pees in that horrible slumber. Or before I silence her for good in that dream. I left Leo for her, but no one else. I would rather kill her than watch 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 have 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 her bitchy crown on. "Take care of him, sissy. He seems like a rare gem that every woman 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 said, "a rare gem that I am itching to fuck" instead. Bitch! I would love to see her dare, and 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 mean, fate reserved him for me only," I retorted, and I flickered a smile at Damian, who 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 defense of her miniature. "There is absolutely no man in the whole world that sticks to one woman. Keep your mind open to that because..."

"Gracia!" Mrs. Ricafforte exclaims. "Are you really saying that to someone who is supposed to be your daughter?"

Well, she never was, and she will never be even a second mother to me. That is how much I detest this skimming witch and her little devil-whore. What is it that she puked just 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 exactly 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," madam joy-killer, ill-wisher, interjects, sounding so gravely confidence as if this is the only soud shit she has ever said. 'There is clearly so much that you don't know about 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 everyone, including the bitchy witch. "You have no right to be so disrespectful to our guests, and my daughter doesn't need your stupid opinions. Keep them for your own daughter. She needs the lecture more than my own daughter. You..." He stops and places his hand on his chest.

His breath is hiking. "Papa?" I spring to my feet, rushing behind him while Damian pours him a glass of water.

"Here, Mr. Riccaford. Drink this." Damian hands him the glass of water, and he takes small 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 words out with so much struggle.

Curse these heartless witches! The way they are perched comfortably on their seats like 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 plan the next step some other time. At least now we know our children won't run away from this again."