Prisoner To The Mafia King
A slow, drawn-out breath fell from my lips.
I am just imagining things, I told myself silently. I shook my head as I tried to banish all thoughts from my past and today.
I faced my reflection once again. I adjusted my smile until it was how Adrian likes them.
He taught me how to perfect my smile. My smile should be an average of forty degrees from the horizontal plane.
It took me three months to perfect it.
The door burst open again, making me turn around again as my father stood in the room with my niece, who was my flower girl, and bridesmaids who were Adrian's sisters, trailing behind him.