My Obsession

Chapter 4

My obsession

Amara's POV

I walked around the room, observing the décor. I'm still shaken from what happened in the other room when he killed one of his men. But what sticks out in my mind is what my father kept saying.

"She's mine," as I was being carried away.

I was moved to tears when he said that, because it is true. He chose me to be his daughter despite the fact that he is not my biological father. The bedroom door opens and a maid enters, placing the clothes on the bed with a straight face. The maid is in her 60s or early 70s, has completely white hair, and wears red lipstick.

"What exactly is this?"I asked, my gaze fixed on the silk gown on the bed.

I walked over, glancing down at it before returning my gaze to the maid. She shrugged and walked away, leaving me in the dark. There was a note there. I took it and opened it to see what it said.

-Meet me outside in this dress.

I scoffed at the note and tossed it away. "I'll come if there's food," I said quietly, my gaze fixed on the dress on the bed.

"Stupida ragazza americana (Stupid American girl)," I hear the maid say outside the bedroom door. I frowned, not understanding her; I guess she heard me and responded.I slowly picked up the dress and ran my eyes over it. The dress is a long, silky shade of light greyish blue, and it appears to me that it will cling to your body.

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I walked out the bedroom door, where I was greeted by the Maid. Her gaze swept down my body before she shook her head. I felt my cheeks heat up and became insecure.

"Così magro (So skinny)," she said, shaking her head and gesturing with her hands at my body.

" Sorry?"I asked, not understanding what she had said.

" Così magro" She yelled at me, as if she expected me to understand her, but I didn't.

"I'm sorry.I. Don't. Understand. You "I explained to her that I don't understand a single word she's saying in Italian. She looks at me silently, thinking.

"You skinny Americans, you're supposed to be fat. Why are you so thin, with no meat on you? "She stated with a thick accent. I raised my brows in response to what she attempted to say.

Wow, just wow.

Not all Americans are overweight...

"I work out, and I'm not skinny; I'm just fit," I corrected her, and she looked at me confused.I sighed deeply and smiled helplessly.I demonstrated my running motion to her, hoping she would understand what I was saying. "Exercise," I said, and she raised her brows, nodding quickly.

"Come," she said abruptly, grabbing my hand and dragging me away. Because she was shorter than me, I had to physically bend down as we walked quickly together.

She leads me outside, where he was seated at an excessively long table. She comes to a stop when we get close to him and leaves me alone with him. I bit my lower lip, nervously looking around and touching my silk dress. His dark eyes roamed over my body, his gaze fixed on me. He stands up and clears his throat.

"Please take a seat," he said, motioning with his hand to the seat. I approach him and take a seat across from him. "The dress you're wearing was created by a well-known Italian designer who is known for creating her gowns, hmm" He froze, snapping his fingers in an attempt to remember, "Si, dreamy. Do you love it?"He remembered and asked me.