Chapter 3
“Now boarding flight 212,” a woman speaks over the intercom in a cheery voice. I sigh, looking over at my dad feeling hopeless.
“You know, it’s not too late to turn around,” I hint at him and he frowns at me in reply.
“Come on Belle, it’s not going to be that bad,” he says picking up both of our bags.
I snort, “Please papa, I’d much rather not be dead before I turn seventeen.”
“They’re not going to kill you,” he says, chuckling slightly and I groan.
“You don’t know that! Who knows what those people find humorous! Maybe they’re just luring us in to sacrifice us and then eat us!” My dad glances over his shoulder and give me a strange look.
“No more documentaries about the Aztecs for you.”
“You’re only saying that because you know I’m right!”
Dad sighs, dropping the bags before turning to grab me by the shoulders. “Belle, come on and get your head out of your stories. You know they’re not cannibals just like you know they’re not going to harm you. You know I won’t let them harm you,” he says, and I sigh nodding.
“I know,” I grudgingly admit. “I just don’t see the reason why we’re going out of our way to see these people. If they want to know me, why don’t they come to America?” I retort and my dad shrugs.
“I don’t honey.” He gives me a sly grin, “If any anything, think of it this way. At least we get a completely paid for vacation. Italy is suppose to be a beautiful country, be happy you’re getting out of America,” he says and I nod, laughing slightly.
“Alright, I’ll think of it that way.”
“Good, now let’s go get on our plane. I can’t believe those people wouldn’t send out their private jet.”
~:~
“Belle, we’re here,” dad whispers in my ear. I groan as I sit up in the uncomfortable airplane seat.
“Hmm?” I reply back as I rub my eyes sleepily.
“We just touched down in Italy,” he replies and I groan.
“Peachy,” I say making him chuckle.
“Let’s go.”
“Do I have to? Maybe they forgot we were coming” I whine but I get up anyways stretching as I do.
We maneuver our way around the busy airport until we get to baggage claim. After hunting down our luggage we move to the entrance. I notice a man standing with a sign, and I pull my dad’s sleeve.
“Uh, did they send someone to get us?” I ask and dad shrugs.
“I don’t know, why?”
“There’s a man over there with a sign with my name on it,” I reply. Dad turns to where I’m pointing and he turns around and grins at me.
“Maybe they didn’t forget about us coming,” dad says and I sigh dejectedly. “Let’s get a move on then.” We walk across the small area separating us from the man. Dad taps him on the shoulder and he turns around startled.
“Are you here for an Annabella and Leonard?” dad asks the man in the suit.
“Yes, and I suppose you are them, hm?” the man replies in a thick Italian accent. I watch as his eyes scrutinizes us. I shuffle my sneakered feet awkwardly. “Right this way,” he says, motioning us to follow him. As we walk towards the doors, dad turns back and looks at me making me raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles softly before turning around.
As we step outside, the man opens up a door to small limousine. “Pompous,” I say in between coughs as my dad and gets in. He sends me a look saying “Quiet” as the man shuts the door on us.
“It will take us approximately an hour to get De Luca manor,” the middle aged man says as he gets into the driver seat. Dad and I nod. I look outside the tinted window feeling my eyes droop slightly. Next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake.
“Belle, we’re here wake up,” dad says, touching my shoulder softly. I stumble out of my peaceful world and open my eyes to see my dad smiling nervously down at me. “Come on sweetie, let’s go,” he says as the door opens. I nod as I sit up. I fix my wavy brown hair while my dad steps out of the car. I straighten my grey tank top under my pink cropped sweatshirt. I step out of the limo, pulling up my ripped, bleached skinny jeans. What? I never said that I was trying to impress them.
I look up for the first time and my mouth drops. The house, no, my bad, I mean mansion is at least three stories with a large fountain in the middle of the circle driveway. On either side of the drive way a small garden of flowers once bloomed. It would probably be gorgeous in the spring and summer time.
The large mahogany doors open up and the sound of clacking heels drew my attention away from the dead (but somehow still entrancing) garden to the front door. A woman in a grey pencil skirt with a ruffled pink top tucked in walks towards us and I immediately take a step closer to my dad. By graying brown hair I knew exactly who it was.
The woman stopped right in front of us, giving me a fake smile. “Ah, Leonard, you haven’t changed a bit,” the woman said, a bite of sarcasm at the end. Dad smiles at her mockingly.
“I wish I could say the same to you, but it seems like you have aged some,” dad says sarcastically and I choke back a laugh. Sadly, this drew the woman’s attention to me. Her eyes trail over me, a calculative expression on her face.
“You must be Annebella,” she says, holding out her hand to shake. I look up from her hand to her face, to her hand again before shaking it slightly.
“It’s is so good to meet you Mary,” I say, sarcasm in every word of mine.
“Please dear, just call me grandmamma.”
