MALIAS POV:
"Do you have reservations, Miss?" The waitress asked me as I walked up to the reservation desk upfront. The elegant restaurant was lit up with beautiful chandeliers of diamonds.
They glowed in the restaurant's dim light, glistening as they moved. Although the restaurant itself, La Maria, is known for its beautiful architecture, I would go to a burger king and get fries instead.
This shit is way too expensive.
"Yes, I do," I politely replied while fixing my shoes.
They were tight as fuck, and it felt like it was cutting off my blood circulation.
"What's the name?" The waitress asked while her eyes followed a male waiter heading to a table.
Ship.
"Malia Elliot, thank you," I said while she gave me a small smile and asked me to follow her towards the table in the middle of the restaurant.
See, this is why I don't go out.
My biggest pet peeve: is being at the middle table of a restaurant.
After walking toward the massive table, I quickly found my mother.
"Oh! Agapi Mou, come here!" My mother rushed me over as she smiled at me.
Leaning forward, she whispered, "don't worry, there will be enough drama to entertain us."
Laughing softly, I took my seat next to her.
"hey," My brother Ade whispered as he nudged my shoulder, his hazel eyes wide with excitement.
Turning towards him
I answered, "what?!"
"Bitch, all I said was hey damn." He whispered back, curling his upper lip and pretending to clutch a purse.
"Come children, it's not safe here—"
I slapped him upside the head, "shut the fuck up, dumbass."
He gasps and dramatically falls off his seat, "I was just assaulted!" He announces to the table.
My mother sighs loudly before pivoting towards him, "Get up from the floor and sit like a proper man? Hm?" she says.
Wiping fake tears from his eyes, he says, "Nobody appreciates me." he sniffles.
Rolling my eyes, I turn towards the head of the Moon family.
Grinning, I say, "It is wonderful to see you again, Mrs. Moon."
She's so intimidating.
Turning her lazer eyes towards me, she says, "And to you, Miss Elliot."
Smiling nervously, I turn towards her spouse, "Hey Mike!"
He smiles and gives me a big high-five, "Hey Mae!"
Mrs. Dallia turns her eyes towards her husband, her gaze softening before glaring at him.
He turns to look at her and pouts his lips, "Your so cut—" as he reaches for her head to smooth her hair, she slaps his hand away.
Turning to look at me, shaking his head, he says, "She's just hangry."
I laugh at the joke, it's hilarious how instead of the usual grumpy/sunshine, he's the sunshine, and she's the grumpy one.
I turn towards Dallia, smiling; she waves shyly at me and tilts her head down.
She's so beautiful.
Not only because of her beautiful genes but also her heart, she is easily the most pleasant person of the ton.
As I'm just about to speak to her, my eyes get covered by someone's hands. "Guess who it is." The person whispers in my ear. Just by her lilac aroma, I know who it is.
"Harry styles?"
Shyla gasps and takes her hands off my eyes, "I wish it were, but it's me." She smiles at me and gathers me up in a warm hug.
She always gives the biggest hugs.
"Oh my gosh! I haven't seen you in FOREVER!" She exclaims, her bright smile making the room feel lighter.
"So, word from my mother is that the Eros family will be here tonight?!" Shyla gasps. I shoosh her loudly, tugging her shirt, so she bends down towards me.
"Can you say it any louder?" I say with gritted teeth, looking at the room to see who heard.
"Oh shut up, you act as if your special," she says while rolling her eyes.
As I laugh at her joke, she catches eye on Dallia. She gasps and runs over to her, giving her a big welcome hug. Dallia had just moved here from South Korea, which is a very long journey. She knows English luckily, meaning she can communicate with us just fine.
The best part about all of us being in Italy is that we have six whole months together. Filled with fun, drama, and getting laid. Sounds pretty fun to me, minus the drama part.
Rhea will also be escaping her dreadful boyfriend, hopefully, she can find someone better than that dumbass.
-
As I greet the other families of the ton, I get anxious as to when the Eros family will arrive. Not that I want them to arrive, ever, but it makes me worry not to know when to expect them.
And so I can prepare myself to see him again.
If he even comes, at that.
I hadn't seen him in years, I probably won't even be able to recognize him.
Right..?
He wouldn't even notice me either, so it's not like we are going to have that awkward scene in books where they just look at each other.
Thank God.
A tap on the shoulder shocks me out of my thoughts, turning around I am met with an ugly face.
Andrew smirks at me, taking a step forward, he says "Well look who it is, my dearest niece."
This asshole.
"Look who it is! The guy that didn't hit puberty until he has nineteen!" I mock, he blushes with embarrassment, looking around the room to see who had heard what I had said.
"That was our secret you dipshit." he sneers at me, flicking my forehead.
Andrew is about to get slapped the fuck out.
With his receding hairline.
Ade comes up behind me, "ah look who it is, the infamous uncle." he says, tilting his head.
Andrew smirks, "You know damn well I am the favorite uncle out of all six of us." he chuckles. Which is true mostly, out of all six of them he's the less annoying one.
"I prefer Auntie Sora more than you." I laugh.
Andrew gasps, "My wife over me?!"
Ade and I nod our heads, silently chuckling at him being dramatic.
He rolls his eyes, "Whatever, you just like her for her cooking."
Ade grins down at him, since the motherfucker is 6'5, "Damn right."
The room quiets as someone enters the restaurant.
As Andrew looks over Ade's shoulder, his face whitens.
He whispers,
"The Eros Family."
_______________________________________
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Storm (OFF HOLD)(REVAMP)
Romance"Please," He begs, dropping down to his knees as he pulls my body closer. He rest his head on my stomach, breathing in my scent heavily as his hands tighten on my body. "Please Malia, let me touch you. Let me feel you." He pleads, tilting his head...
