Vita Mia: My life
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She has never wanted to take any part in the mafia world that her abusive and manipulative parents control. All she wants is to be free of them. All she wants is to be free of her trauma th...
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"He saw her before he saw anything else in a room"
Arabella Karve "Unflattering, this one next" The stylist says as he shoves a heavy purple gown into my hands.
I groan loudly, exhausted from the hours of trying on heavy, uncomfortable, and tight dresses.
"Why can't we just be done for the day?" I say while rolling my eyes, making a sour face at the disturbing purple gown.
"Because the ball is this month, and we can't wait until last minute for the heir to pick out a dress." The stylist says in an aggrieved tone. He continues looking through more hideous and vibrant dresses that he brought. Lucky me.
I inhale while trying to control my temper before turning around and walking into my bathroom.
I peal off the pink sparkly dress and silently thank God as it falls to the floor. Hell to the fucking no.
I reluctantly place on the dark purple gown that falls to my feet. I scowl in the mirror looking at myself, I fucking hate purple on me.
I step out of the bathroom with an unamused expression plastered on my face.
"This is even worse then the fucking orange one." I say as I place my hands on my hips.
He ignore me and smoothly walks behind me. I feel him zip up the dress before slowly stepping away from me with an achieved look.
"I like that one, you're wearing it" He says while tapping his pen against his lips and looking over me.
"I'm not fucking wearing it, I hate it."
"Last time I checked Ms.Karve, no one cares for your opinion-" He begins but is suddenly cut off by my bedroom door being thrown open.
"I do." The deep Italian accent rings out across the room as Eros walks in with a glare on his face.
Holy fucking hotness.
A small grin appears on my face as he steps into the room and immediately my stylist closes his stupid mouth. Eros confidently steps into the room with a scary and alluring aura surrounding him.
He leans back against the wall while crossing his beautiful arms as he continues glaring at the stylist.
"Y-you must be Mr.Vandare" The stylist stutters out as he stares at Eros with fear coating his eyes.
"If she doesn't want to wear the fucking dress she isn't fucking wearing it" Eros sneers with a hateful tone, ignoring his uncared for comment.
"Okay... what dress would you like to wear?" The man nervously turns back around and looks back at me.
"None in that pile" I say matter-of-factly.
The man sighs and closes his eyes before slowly opening them, visibly irritated. "Then what would you like to wear?"
