Mara pov
"How could you?" I whispered, my face flushed with rage and shame. "That was my friend. You had no right!"
"Friend?" Lorenzo let go of me, pulling down. He gave a short, nasty laugh. "Your pupils dilated the moment you saw his name. You didn't look like a friend, Mara. You looked like a little girl waiting for her hero to save her from the big bad wolf."
"He's a better man than you'll ever be!" I yelled.
Lorenzo's face hardened. The playfulness was gone. "He will be a ghost. And if he calls again, I'll make sure he stays one. Go to bed. We have work to do tomorrow, and I don't want you looking like a corpse."
I turned and ran downstairs to the small bedroom, slamming the door so hard the walls shook. I didn't sleep. I just sat by the window, wondering how my life had turned into a prison.
The morning sun crept through the thin curtains of the room , hitting my eyes. I groaned, my head throbbing from the lack of sleep. The smell of frying oil and coffee pulled me out of bed. I didn't bother fixing my hair; I just walked into the kitchen in my oversized shirt and leggings.
Cemal was at the kitchen, humming a song while he flipped eggs. Lorenzo was at the small table, his nose buried in a tablet, looking like he was ready to go to war.
"Morning, sleepyhead!" Cemal grinned, sliding a plate onto the table. "Sit. Eat. I made sure not to let Lorenzo touch the pan. I want you to actually enjoy your breakfast."
I sat down, feeling a tiny bit of comfort in Cemal's energy. "Thank God for that," I said, picking up a fork. "I don't think my stomach could handle another 'family recipe' from the king of salt."
Lorenzo didn't look up, but his jaw tightened. "The pasta was fine. You just have the palate of a child who only eats sugar."
"Palate of a child?" I looked at Cemal. "Do you hear this man? He burns water and calls it 'refined.'"
Cemal burst out laughing, leaning against the counter. "Look, cousin, she's right. You're great at a lot of things, but in the kitchen? You're a disaster. Just accept it and let the professionals handle the eggs." he winked at me, I knew he was lying just to tease lorenzo.
"Cousin, if you spent as much time working as you do talking, we'd be done with this mission by now," Lorenzo muttered, though I saw his fingers tap the table in a way that showed he wasn't really angry.
"I'm just saying," I added, taking a big bite of the eggs. "Cemal should be the one in charge of our lives. At least he knows how to make a guest feel at home."
"Guest," Lorenzo said, finally looking at me. His eyes lingered on my messy hair and tired face for a second too long. "Eat. We don't have all day."
After breakfast, the atmosphere changed. Lorenzo walked to the corner of the room and brought out a long, white bag.
"Vance expects you at the gala by evening," he said, zipping open the bag. "You're going as the star reporter. You need to look like one."
He pulled out a dress that was midnight blue. It was silk, sleek and beautiful.
"I have my own clothes, Lorenzo," I said, standing up.
"You have rags, Mara," he countered. "In that world, people judge you before you even open your mouth. Put it on."
"My clothes are not rags, just because you don't like them doesn't mean you should down talk them," I fired at him.
"He has bad communication, he meant you should wear outfit that fits the event theme," Cemal defended him.
"Uhmm, okay," I took the bag and went into the small bedroom. The silk matched perfectly with my skin. It hugged my waist and flowed down my legs. When I walked back out, Cemal stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.
"Whoa," Cemal breathed, giving a low whistle. "Lorenzo, you sure you want her going out like that? You might have to fight off every man in the city."