How Old Is Camilo From Encanto Novels & Stories

replied the eldest wearily, from having repeated it so many times. “Well, Carol. This is Camilo, my eldest son, he's eight and he usually goes to sleep before ten,” she pointed out. ”This other one here is Alberto, my second son, he's six and he's not allowed to watch TV after eight. And this little one is Lucio, my youngest, he's five and he's the quietest. I assure you he'll be the first to fall asleep.” “My pleasure, children,” Carol said with a friendly smile.

– I replied honestly. - I told you, Dad! Are you going to say he's projecting too? – Camilo said triumphantly. - Camilo, that's impossible! It's just a coincidence. You've been watching too many soap operas with your wife and you're just thinking up impossible theories. – The father looked at his son as if explaining the same thing for the thousandth time. - The woman in the photo is my mother. She died when I was seven years old. She was pregnant with a girl and died in childbirth. – Camilo explained, and something clicked in me.

Currently, I’m serving drinks on one of the four round sectionals, accommodating about ten club-goers where Camilo and his friends are. “On the main floor,” I replied curtly. I knew they broke up because he cheated on her. It’s an ugly breakup, and I’m definitely judging the guy even though I knew little about him. I’m biased that way. Maya became more of a sister to me like Tina. “Tell her to serve our table,” he commanded in a gruff voice. From what I gathered, Camilo is from a family who owns a winery here in Las Mencía. The petite, dark-haired girl wrapped around his body doesn’t seem to mind that her boyfriend is looking for another girl while he’s with her.

"Yeah I've seen him, he's cute. And he's a year older than you. He's eighteen. Meaning, he should be finding his mate soon. And if-" "Ew! Don't say it. I can't possibly be his mate. Ugh. So disgusting." Camilla rolled her eyes as she sat behind me, running her hand through her hair. "How tall is he?" She asked and Carmen smiled and stepped closer to her sister. "Six-one." Carmen said, making Camilla raise her brows. Raya smirked and winked at me. I smiled back, happy she wasn't mad at me. "Is he blonde? You know I have a thing for blonde guys?" Camilla asked bitterly as Carmen smiled and nodded.

The truth is that she would leave Merch's behind, she would no longer have anything to do with that place, after last night, Camila didn't even feel like serving drinks there. "I don't want you to be on the wrong side of the tracks. Those people find it easy to fool naive young girls like you” Mer said. Camila frowned, thinking to herself that she wasn't naive. Her mom thought she was still a child, but no, she was already twenty-two. She wanted to object, but didn't, it was better not to argue. "Don't worry mom, that won't happen” Camila kissed her on the forehead and looked at her watch. "It's so late, I'll be late for coffee” She walked to the bathroom as fast as the pain would allow her.

I said in confusion. "I forget, you weren't aware of her family history; not many know her." "Camilo, I run one of the most important mafias in the world since I was 18; I have businesses in different countries, if I dedicated myself to be aware of the gossip and family drama of the people around me, I would not be in the place where I am now," I said staring at him. I continued looking through the papers I had on my desk. "Don Santelli has two children; Fabrizio is the oldest, and Fiorella is the youngest who is 8 years younger; she should be about to turn 18 now," said Camilo.

I smile softly; he sounds like me here, his voice hasn’t broken yet. “I don’t know, Milo,” little me replies, shaking my head and pushing my hair out of my face. “Well, today is a very special day,” Milo explains. I look up at him curiously, my four-year-old self having no clue. I don’t remember this time… “It’s your birthday today! You’re four years old, come on, I have a surprise for you!” Milo exclaims. I watch as the camera shakes, and I know we’re both running.

Surprise, surprise. "That's good to hear, that you love doing your job. Because I sure as hell do!" The eldest Simpson stated with a little laughter, while the first brother kept his eyes on her as his lips curve up to form a lovely smile across his face. "You know, fashion has always been my passion." Milo chuckles. "That rhymes." He clears his throat. "Well anyways, I hear that you own this company? Can you tell me your age?" "Yes, and I'm 22." Milo gasps. "I know.. pretty shocking, huh?"

My interaction with Camilo moments ago was the first I had with him since he agreed to help me. The girl was introduced as Ava Garcia, Camilo's girlfriend. She was beautiful, with golden blond hair that stopped at her waist and clear blue eyes. She smiled politely at me after we were introduced, and I reciprocated, apologizing once more for what had happened earlier. She didn’t look angry, so I felt relieved.

She looked over at me with a smile and waited for me to be seated before she spoke. "I hear you have prisoners and I want in on their torture" She said with that same smile. I arched one of my perfect eyebrows at her as I crossed my arms. "Why is that?" I asked her, but inwardly I already knew the answer. I knew that she just loved to torture people. It was almost comical, really, because she looked so innocent. She had just returned from spying on those pesky good witches for me. Camilla was a short young woman around the age of 30 in human years, but was actually around 200 years old. She had short, wavy, blonde hair and big blue eyes. I always laughed when humans mistook her for a child,