Chapter 3

Camiela's Perspective: "You're coming tonight, aren't you?" Shirley inquired, and Khan hopped off my lap, circling the table to sit beside his mother. She assisted him into the seat, handed me the menu, and then proceeded to fix his hair. "Tonight?" I questioned, arching my brows. "Don't play dumb and act like you missed the invite. I saw Nancy giving it to you myself," she snickered. I attempted negotiation. "I'll make you a deal. If you act like you never saw anything—" "Nope. I would rather be anywhere else than at one of Richard Castro's parties, but if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me." I sighed in frustration and returned to reading the menu. "I have no interest in going to any party," I mumbled. "Hmm, but your Dad has all the interest in the world in showing you off as his little princess." I glanced at her over the menu. "I hate that word." "Princess?" she asked slowly, trying to provoke me further. "Yes," I replied, snapping the menu shut in my hands. "Something about the man just... irks me." "He's not so bad from all the times I've spoken to him, but just knowing what he does..." Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. "I can't approve of it." "Me neither. Yet you, my dear Shirley, married Derek Rodriguez." "He's different." I lifted a brow. "He's hot," she grinned, turning to Khan. "Isn't he?" Khan nodded with a bright grin. "That's your Dad. And my brother," I said to Khan, scrunching up my nose. "Khan knows just how handsome his Dad is," Shirley chuckled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Plus, your brother's a good man, unlike most others in this circle." "You're biased to your husband," I scoffed, rolling my eyes and taking a breadstick, biting off a piece. "You know your brother's a good man," Shirley replied knowingly. "He's done things just as bad as other people have." I put up a finger gun and shot out the window, closing one eye to act like I aimed before I blew on my fingers and looked at Khan, winking. He giggled, mimicking me as my eyes slid to Shirley's, giving her a pointed look. "He's done worse too." She sighed and leaned back in her seat. "If you think you can grow up and live life around these kinds of people and still find a husband who would be any different, you're nothing but a hopeless romantic."

"I'm a realist," I scoffed. "You're a total dreamer. I found the best with what I had and got lucky because there is nobody in this world better suited to me than your brother. I can't picture myself with any other man because no other man I've known could ever love me like Derek does." "Gag me," I sighed under my breath, pulling the napkin into my lap, both of us pausing our conversation to place our orders. "I'll take the fried rice and chili chicken, please," I smiled. "I'll be right back with your orders, ma'am. And sir," the guy smiled at Khan before walking away. "What was I saying?" she asked, grabbing the water bottle and pouring some into Khan's sippy cup, securing it, and handing it back to him. "Right, men," she concluded. "Useless creatures, really." She shot me a pointed look. "What? Men suck," I scoffed in ridicule. "No, Camiela, boys suck," she emphasized. "I found a man," she then added with a grin. "Rub your relationship in my face one more time, Shirley. I dare you." She watched me in amusement before leaning back in her seat. "All right, sorry." After a long pause, she leaned forward with interest and curiosity swarming in her eyes. "What about you, then? Any interesting gentlemen in your life?" "I've met a lot of men and I can't say any of them were gentlemen," I answered, rolling my eyes. "Well, that's unfortunate. Anything interesting you've heard then? Since that's all I have to entertain myself these days," she sighed in exhaustion, munching on a breadstick. I shook my head, dusting my hands. "I don't listen to any of that crap unless I'm forced to. And that means unless I'm at parties like the one we're attending tonight." She chuckled softly. "You know what I've heard though?" I stared at her blankly when she didn't continue. "Oh, tell me, please. I am dying of curiosity," I said dryly, holding her gaze. She huffed in annoyance, "You're no fun. Anyway, you know who's coming back to town?" "Yeah, I know. That's why I'm asking, isn't it?" Her gaze narrowed at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, my dear Camiela." "That's not the full quote, my dear Shirley," I mocked. "Then what is?" My gaze fell to the floor as my elbow hit my purse, causing it to tumble onto the ground and send all my belongings pouring out. I groaned in annoyance and stood kneeling down to pick it up. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit—" "But the highest form of intelligence." I glanced up as polished shoes came into view belonging to the deep, smooth, and dark voice that finished my sentence, sending chills down my spine momentarily. My movements slowed to a stop as the devil himself stood above me, hands tucked into his pockets in rich Tom Ford attire. "Oscar Wilde," he nodded, "charming, Ms. Rodriguez." Stefano glanced at me, his face giving nothing away, and then continued to walk away, exiting the restaurant without a second look. "I guess the rumors are true," Shirley said, eating another breadstick. "Stefano Castro's back." That can't be good... "Camiela?" I snapped out of my daze and looked away from where he stood seconds ago. "You... okay?" "Yeah," I exhaled, zipping up my purse and returning to my seat. She looked out the window at Stefano as he got in his car and then drove off. "Something wrong?" "No," I shook my head. "Something about Stefano?" "No, Shirley," I chuckled dryly. "You get weird whenever his name comes up." "Absolutely not. I don't know one thing about the man. Not even his middle name." She shot me a knowing look. "Okay, but that's only because everyone knows his middle name. He's a stranger to me," I shrugged, "and I have no interest in getting involved with a man like him. Everyone stays away from him, there must be a good reason." "Don't judge a book by its cover, Princess," she taunted, "he's tall, mysterious, and handsome. It's enough to send the ladies drooling." I rolled my eyes. "You're ridiculous. I'm hungry and really busy, so let's just eat and head out. I need to get back to the gallery." "All right," she mused, "as you wish."

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I watched the crowd entering The Spectrum Hotel, where tonight's party was, and I immediately wanted to drive out of this parking lot and back to my apartment. It wasn't that I didn't like socializing or being around people. To be honest, sometimes, these things were pretty fun. Sometimes. I was a fairly social butterfly, but tonight I was not in that mood. Maybe because I know Stefano will be here. I had nothing against the man, I truly knew nothing about him beyond his name and occupation, but something in my gut just told me that it was better to stay away from men like Stefano. Men who had power radiating off of them, who had everyone's attention in any room they walked into. Stefano was one of them and he only ever made business deals with people. Making a deal with him would end up in my loss; I would owe him something much greater than money and I would probably end up paying for it with my life. So it was in my best interest to dodge him like a bullet. I leaned forward, resting my chin on the steering wheel, and whined loudly, letting out a startled gasp when someone knocked on my window. Jumping upright, I looked out and saw Derek standing there, watching me in amusement. I rolled my window down just an inch and snapped, "What?" "Are you going to spend the entire night in your car?" "I'm mentally preparing." "You might want to join us inside before Mom and Dad find you. Unless you want to enter with them..." he offered. I opened the door, almost hitting him with it, and climbed out quickly, locking the car behind me as I adjusted and smoothed out my creamy champagne-white satin slip dress. It was a classy dress that stopped at the floor and had thin, delicate straps that crisscrossed at the back, meeting at my tailbone since the dress was backless. Derek and Shirley strolled ahead while I walked in a few paces behind, letting out a soft breath. "It's just one night. You're always skipping out on these things anyway, Camiela. What's one?" "Camiela!" I halted, looking over my shoulder and spotting my parents as they walked towards the entrance, locking their car behind them. "Dad," I greeted, giving him a quick hug as he beamed at me. "You look gorgeous, la mia Principessa," he chuckled, calling me his princess yet again. I chuckled halfheartedly before facing my mother. "Honey," she grinned, squeezing me tightly and reaching up, brushing away the two loose strands I curled to frame my face while the rest of my hair was pulled back in a low bun. "How pretty," she sang, touching the tiny pearls in my ears. "A little small though, mi Amor," she mumbled quietly with a pout. "Mom," I scolded, linking my arm with hers before we followed my Dad inside the hotel and towards the hall where the party was being hosted. "Dio mi aiuti," I grumbled, my nose scrunching up naturally. 'God, help me.' "Camiela," Mom nudged me, "smile." And believe me, I. Fucking. Grinned.