Esperanza Mia Novels & Stories

— Mia stood in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. She had dressed carefully for her day out with Alessandra. Her heart was filled with anticipation, a stark contrast to the disappointment that was to come. As the hours ticked by, Mia’s excitement slowly turned into anxiety. Alessandra was nowhere to be seen. She tried calling her, but her calls went unanswered. With a heavy heart, Mia realized that Alessandra wasn't coming. She remembered Alessandra's workaholic nature, a trait that often made her lose track of time.

I see his face then, the face I always see, white and terrible, a deep gouge in his cheek, his mouth gaping, his eyes fixed and staring. From deep inside his chest, he growls, “You belong to me.” I wake up then on the couch, an afternoon storm raging outside, the rain coming down in slicing sheets. My chest is heaving, and I’m sweating. “Mrs. Annie!” Esperanza’s knocking on the door. I get up and open it for her. She steps back and looks down at her feet when I do, as though she’s embarrassed. She’s a youngish-looking forty-something with a wide, pretty face, café au lait skin, and the kind of deep brown eyes that men drown in. She looks up at me with concern; she’s been witness to my waking

I have these trust issues after what I went through so I think my heart doesn't accept anyone easily. After seeing my smirk she stood straight and became stiff. She extended her hand and greeted me "Hello Welcome Mam" I shook her hand and responded, "My pleasure". She continued "I am your PA Cindy Wasora Mam". "I am Stefana Joshua. No mam, just call me Stef. Shall we?" I beckoned my hands to exit she nodded her head and led the way.

"Mama taught us! Mama knows ALL the dances. She knows salsa and merengue and—and—what's the other one, Mama? The one with the hips?" "Bachata," Mia supplies. Her voice is strained. "Yeah! That one! She's really good! You should see her! Oh wait—you DID see her! Just now! When she was spinning! Wasn't she amazing?" "She was," I say, looking directly at Mia. "She is." Mia looks away. Her hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear even though it doesn't need tucking. It's a nervous gesture. I remember it.

Her hand kept landing on her wide hips back to her forehead, all in sync with her exasperated sighs. Along with her pace was the bounce of her luscious mane that is now dyed dark blonde. She had the sexiness of a Latina woman which she had so often taken to her advantage. To my estimate, she’s in her fifties but nevertheless, displays the sophistication of a 30-year old. Only that her false youth seems to leave her sometimes, especially in stressful situations like this. “Cariño.” In her mellow Spanish accent, she tried to soothe me.

Puffed Benedict stopping the carriage and we all led out. The land was surprisingly sort of deserted, at least I thought until I got to see three women passing by. "What's this place called?" I asked from Mr. Edward. "It's known as Tierra del Diego. The land of fire. Your father rented it to the migrants from the south. They take care of this place. They are latin natives. They don't speak english but I believe you can understand what they say." "Yes. I've heard of these people. They say magic rumours around these lands and not any ordinary person goes through here."

Teresa called again, Amaria flinched and turned back, Teresa shook her head and asked, “ what's wrong? ” “ It's nothing, I mean… it's my first time seeing… people celebrate like this, ” Amaria replied, with a gloomy expression on her face. Dove stood on her feet and asked, “ Hold on, is this your first time witnessing a festival or any kind of celebration ? ” Amaria gulped, looked away and pursed her lips. Teresa and Dove exchanged worried glances. “ Well, you're not the only one, although I have witnessed one I have never really gone to an actual festival, ” Teresa confessed. Dove was a bit hesitant but she spoke anyway,

"I live here. And who are you?" "My name is Abra. I came to see Mariano." She answered. Well, she didn't seem as bitchy as she looked. A bra had come to see Mariano. "Yes, I know its a funny name." She confessed. "Its Italian." I stifled a laugh. "I don't know where he is." I said. "Meela said he's gone to get more ice cream. Since when does he like ice cream?" She must be really close to Mariano to be on first name basis with Meela and Linda.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. "𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘢. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨." 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 � ��𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰.

Luciano withdrew his gaze and bowed deeply to Paolo in a respectful manner. He was Paolo's perfect underboss but always overshadowed, like a sapling struggling under the shade of a towering, decaying tree. Luciano got to his feet, while the pretty Tanya smiled at him and bowed a little, revealing her neck. "Luciano, meet your Madre, Tanya Nice." Paolo was already in his 50s, but this young lady… Luciano almost felt as if Paolo wanted to draw the excess energy and vitality from the young girl beside him just to sustain his own aging life.