Yes, Sir

Chapter 8

A/N: An update! Finally! It's a long one just for y'all. 

ALSO: Important author's note below! Enjoy!

***

Silas's P.O.V

Isabella Romano was going to be the death of me.

The fucking tease.

But my God, was she beautiful.

Ever since she had been with my idiot son, I watched her with rapt attention, as if every movement held a secret waiting to be unveiled. I couldn't help but be entranced by her presence, my eyes tracing her every step, trying to capture her essence in my memory.

Her eyes were pools of rich mahogany, warm and inviting, drawing you in with their depth. The soft curve of her smile was a radiant beam of sunshine, capable of brightening my darkest of days. Her hair cascaded in waves of rich, chestnut brown, gleaming with a lustrous sheen under the sunlight. The gracefulness of her movements was akin to a ballet dancer, every step a delicate and mesmerizing display of elegance. Her skin was as smooth as porcelain, its flawless complexion reminiscent of a moonlit night.

She possessed lips that were the perfect shade of rose, inviting and velvety, ready to whisper secrets to the wind. Her laughter echoed like a chorus of joy, contagious and uplifting, filling the air with a symphony of happiness. Her figure was a masterpiece of curves and contours, a sculptor's dream brought to life. The warmth in her eyes radiated kindness, reflecting the depths of her compassionate soul. Her presence in a room was captivating, drawing everyone's attention as if she possessed an ethereal aura.

As it neared six o'clock, I quickly freshened myself up for Isa. Once I finished putting on a new suit, I gave myself a once over and small nod in the mirror. When I got downstairs, the flowers I had ordered for her had already arrived, and I eagerly, masked by a calm demeanor, waited for Isa to come downstairs.

God, I feel like a stupid teenage boy.

It started as nearing clicks on the hardwood floors and then, I saw her.

As she descended the staircase, grace seemed to personify her every step. Her feet, adorned in delicate, strappy black heels, whispered against the polished wood, creating a gentle cadence that harmonized with the beating of hearts around her.

Each movement was a symphony of fluidity and poise. With every descending step, her body seemed to glide effortlessly, as if defying the constraints of gravity. Her posture, tall and proud, projected an air of confidence that commanded attention.

Her dress, black with one long sleeve on the left and leaving her arm completely bare on the right, mesmerized me, like a moth drawn to the flickering flame in fascination. The fabric embraced her figure, hugging her tightly, a living extension of her grace.

As she moved, her arms swayed gently, like the wings of a swan in flight. Her fingertips grazed the railing with a delicate touch, a subtle display of her refined presence.

Her gaze, steady and captivating, scanned the surroundings with a mix of anxiety and confidence. With each step, her eyes slowly met mine, a small smile on her face as they did.

The soft glow of the chandelier above cast a warm light on her features, illuminating her radiant smile. Her lips, curved with a hint of mischief, whispered secrets only her eyes could fully understand.

Time seemed to pause in awe as she descended. Her every movement exuded an alluring combination of elegance and magnetism, leaving an indelible impression on all fortunate enough to witness her descent.