CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 5: Mirabella's POV 

              I was late for class, again. I groaned as I turned off the alarm clock that had been ringing for the past hour. Yes, I could sleep through even the worst natural disaster. Chef Lily was going to go ballistic. She had been on to me for God knows what reason, and I could already picture her scowl when she saw me.

I hurried through my morning routine, quickly brushing my teeth, pulling on a pair of soft, comfortable leggings and a loose tank top. I grabbed a granola bar and a juice box, stuffing them into my bag as I hurried out the door. 

As I made my way to the car, that prickling sensation crept up my spine again, the feeling that I was being watched. It had been happening for the past month and I just couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Throwing my bags into the backseat, I dashed back into the house to grab my gun, carefully stashed under the coffee table. A girl could never be too careful these days.

I arrived at the institution thirty minutes late, trying to slip in unnoticed, but of course, Chef Lily caught me. Her sharp eyes narrowed as she sneered.

“Late again, are we, Chloe?” she drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I turned to her with a sickly-sweet smile, trying to mask my annoyance. “It was my cat,” I said, slipping into my best sad face mask. “She almost died this morning.”

She arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do you happen to own a zoo? It was your pet dog last week.”

Crazy bitch.

“Well, a girl can own as many pets as she likes, Chef,” I shot back, my tone biting.

“This is your last strike,” she said, huffing as she turned and walked away, leaving me to nod silently.

I headed toward my group, where Eliana, a new friend I’d instantly clicked with, was snickering. Her infectious smile made me feel a little lighter.

“Hi, guys,” I greeted, trying to sound upbeat.

“I’ve never seen Madame Perfecta so red with anger,” Eliana teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she nudged Josh, who nodded in agreement.

“Well, someone’s got to spice things up around here,” I quipped, winking.

Eliana was a great friend, at least, that’s what I believed from the little time we’d spent together. She was easygoing, kind, and always had my back. And Josh? Well, he had a thing for me. We’d fucked once or twice, but I never saw it as anything more, just a release, a fleeting escape and no strings attached. Freedom was sweet.

“What do you say we hit the club tonight, just the three of us?” Eliana suggested, her voice lively.

“It’s a Monday night, Eliana. We have classes tomorrow, and I’ve got work later. Not all of us come from rich families like you. Am I right, Chloe?” Josh added, turning to look at me.

Oh, you have no idea. I just smiled, “He’s right, Eli. We should totally go Friday night, though,” I said as I saw her face fall.

“You’re such a spoilsport, Josh,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll treat you two to dinner tonight,” Josh offered, turning his gaze to me. “Will you make it, Chloe?”

I’ve lost track of how many times I’d refused him, but his persistence was relentless. Still, I knew Eliana might follow me home if I declined tonight, and I didn’t want her snooping around my private life. 

They didn’t even know the part of LA I lived in, and I preferred to keep it that way, keep them both as far from my world as possible. I had a whole different life, one I wanted them to have nothing to do with.

“If it’s free, then count me the fuck in!” I declared. I barely caught Chef Lily’s sharp eyes narrowing in my direction as I mumbled an apology under my breath.

After classes ended, we all headed to my car. Marco had foolishly gotten me a Lamborghini and I’d quickly sold it off to get something less flashy, more low-key. The only thing he’d done right was the house.

I tapped the key to my modern Toyota Camry, it was modest, comfortable and simple. Just how I liked it.

“See you at 8,” Josh said as I slid into the driver’s seat. I did a mock salute, then pulled out of the parking lot.

My first stop was the mall. I needed ingredients to practice what we did in class today, fresh, quality stuff. I splurged, using my brother’s card to buy the most expensive items I could find, just to ruffle him up a little. It was petty, but it made me feel in control.

Back home, I noticed the same black Mercedes that often parked here around this time was gone. Hmm, curious. I shrugged it off, assuming the owner was probably out on some affair with one of the neighbourhood’s plastic Bimbos.

I put away my groceries, then got ready for dinner. I chose a simple, casual outfit, dark jeans, a loose white blouse, and a pair of comfortable sneakers. Nothing fancy. 

*********

Dinner was amazing. I was really starting to love these people. And most of all, I loved being in their company. They made me feel…normal.

I told them bye, my smile lingering as I headed to my car, still riding high from the evening. I was about 30 minutes away from my house when I noticed the same Mercedes following me.

My stomach clenched. Was this some sick joke? I told Marco I didn't want anyone tailing me. I glanced into the mirror again, hopping to catch a glimpse of the driver, but the car had vanished, as if it had never been there. Hmm, maybe I should trust my brothers a little more or maybe it was just my paranoia playing tricks on me.

When I finally pulled into my driveway, that familiar creeping sensation of being watched returned, sharper now, prickling the back of my neck. I shrugged it off initially, telling myself it was just nerves or imagination. But as I stepped out of my car, the feeling intensified, eyes on me, unblinking, somewhere nearby.

I paused, listening intently, then turned my gaze to the street. Shadows stretched and shifted in the dim light, and I swept my eyes across the dark corners of the estate, searching for the source. Suddenly, I saw movement, a figure in a parked Mercedes, sitting very still.

Got you, fucker.

My pulse quickened. Did I have a stalker? If I did, then they picked the wrong fucking person. Carefully, I grabbed my bag, acting casual, and headed back into the house, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Inside, I quickly reached for my gun, then slipped out the back door. 

I moved swiftly, my steps silent on the pavement as I tiptoed around my yard, avoiding the front porch, the driveway, the street lamps, focusing only on my neighbour's parking lot where I would catch him.

I slipped through a narrow gap between my fence and the neighbor’s yard, my heart pounding harder with each step. The neighbor’s yard was a tangle of overgrown bushes, a perfect hiding spot for someone trying to stay unseen. I kept low, my body pressed against the wooden fence, moving quietly behind a dense thicket of bushes that concealed me from the street. My eyes darted around, trying to spot any sign of movement or the man I was after.

Then I saw him, the silhouette of a man stepping out of the Mercedes, his movements deliberate and slow. Mr. Stalker probably knew that I couldn't be inside without the lights on. The nerve of this man. I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around my gun.

He paused, glancing around cautiously. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, then cocked my gun, aiming it in his direction. I didn’t want to kill him, just to destabilize him long enough for the police to arrive. Marco would be so proud right now.

I rose slowly from my crouch, careful not to make a sound, and moved toward him. My footsteps were light, almost ghost-like, until I was close enough that I pressed the gun against his back. He froze instantly. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating.

I had seen this build somewhere before. He smelled nice, of sandalwood and cigarettes. He smelled manly.

He moved a bit and I pushed the gun farther into his back, “Don’t fucking move.” I said. No scratch that, I wanted to see the fucker’s face. He raised his tatted hands in surrender, palms open, slow and deliberate.

“Turn slowly, your hands where I can see them and don't try to play smart. Or I will put a hole through your fucking chest,” I said, trying to sound as intimidating as I could.

He spoke softly, voice smooth and measured, “Well, you're definitely a Belluci.” His words glided over my skin like silk, igniting a strange, conflicting wave of attraction in me. His voice, his scent, everything about him made my stomach tighten and my nipples harden despite the adrenaline pounding through me. Fuck, he was hot.

He had a strong, defined jawline, dark brown hair slicked to perfection, slightly full lips, and those eyes, Lord, those eyes. They were the perfect shade of grey, luminous under the streetlamp, almost ethereal. The streetlamp’s glow made them look like storms trapped in glass, swirling with secrets I didn’t want to uncover right now. He had tattoos peeking from his shirt. Damn it, now I was losing focus.

I gasped, shock overtaking my initial attraction, my mind racing to process the man standing before me. “You!”

“No way,” I muttered, the trembling hand holding the gun betraying me. “You!”