Chapter 18

                                    

                                          
Callista Miller


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My eyes were locked onto the imposing and intimidating figure of the mafia king. His gaze felt like it was drilling a hole right into my heart, and an overwhelming sense of fear rooted me in place. I held my breath, anticipating what would come next, too terrified to even move a muscle. The intensity of his unwavering stare was unsettling, casting an invisible weight upon me that left me feeling pressured and incredibly uneasy. The desire to escape surged within me, but I found myself utterly immobilized by the sheer power of his presence. Amidst the tension, Carla DelaVega attempted to ease the situation, using her tea cup to signal her husband to take a seat. However, his attention remained solely fixed on me, disregarding his wife's gesture.
My heart throbbed in rhythm with an upbeat rock melody, as if on the verge of dropping a powerful note at any given moment. His eyes, sharp and merciless, fixated on me like a predator honing in on its prey. The room hung heavy with silence, intensifying the already taut atmosphere. My mind raced, seeking a way to divert his unwavering attention. The gaze he shared with Ares, burning with intensity, seemed to sear into my very skin. Clenching my lips together, I fought to suppress an impending whimper, desperate not to reveal my vulnerability. Every one of my senses heightened, capturing the sensation of the cool air brushing against my perspiration-dampened skin. Amidst the symphony of my racing heart, the sound of the mafia queen's quiet, deliberate sip of tea reached my ears, somehow magnified by the tense backdrop.
"Callista Miller."
The words rolled off his tongue with a mix of bitterness and vengeance. Hearing my name in that tone was like revenge wrapped in syllables. It was as if he was spitting out the word, drenched in venom and spite. My reaction was instinctive; I flinched, taken aback by the raw hatred that now coated my own name. Raising my gaze cautiously, I peeked up at the formidable figure before me, my lashes shielding some of my unease. His piercing stare was fixed on me, a blaze of fury emanating from his eyes. The intensity of his anger seemed almost touchable, its heat seeping into my skin. Swallowing hard, I couldn't help but feel a churn of fear deep in my stomach.
"Being together, sharing a connection, it all comes at a price. A price as valuable as life itself."
A shiver ran down my spine as his words hung in the air. His eyes held me captive, refusing to let go. The desire to avert my gaze was overwhelming, yet the weight of his sentence held me rooted in place. In his eyes, there was a twisted sense of satisfaction, as though he relished the fear he was instilling in me.
"My son doesn't like association with people beneath his class. I am surprised, to say the least, that he fought because of you."
I stood frozen, a tiny ant facing an imposing elephant, as his words cut through the air like a stinging whip. The weight of his disdain was palpable, leaving an indelible mark on my conscience. In an instant, the room's tranquility shattered as his foot collided with the glass top of the coffee table, the sound reverberating like a thunderous roar. My whole body jerked in response, my heart pounding as though it sought an escape from my chest.
Gasping, I stumbled backward as he closed the distance, his proximity suffocating. His eyes bore into me, pools of cruelty reflecting a malevolence that seemed poised to consume. The intensity of his gaze was chilling, each glance like a tangible threat, an unspoken promise of the power he wielded.
With each word, his voice sliced through the air, as if he were a master conductor orchestrating a symphony of fear.
"People talk about me as if I am a double-edged sword. One wrong move, you would be dead next second. Make no mistake, girl, you couldn't handle the consequences of wanting my son."