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CHAPTER 5: LUCIA

Author: DobberGirl
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

This morning Antonio told me we'll be having dinner with the Dmitry's later today. I don't know what he and dad has with keeping me up to speed on instances like this.

Already done with my makeup, I begin raiding my closet looking for what to wear. I was going to wear this really cute sundress I got from shein but when I saw the restaurant that was picked out, I changed my mind. I eventually settle for a moss green coloured, zip front corset dress that has a halter neck. I pair it with my gold heels, a matching purse, jewelries and style my jet black hair in a low bun.

I'm aiming for a simple yet classy look and looking at myself in the mirror, I can't help but to feel like I've done a great job. Especially as the dress hugs my curves so well, it accentuates how thin my waist is.

The sound of my phone's notification goes off and I go to see if it's my driver. Instead I see a text from Antonio.

Antonio: John won't be driving you today. Expect Ivan in a few minutes.

O My God!

I don't send a follow up text because I'm fucking angry right now. Whose idea was it to have Ivan pick me up?

I still haven't forgotten his little act towards me back in Moscow with the blonde chic. That was beyond inhuman of him. Acting indifferent towards me and now he's coming to pick me up?

Yeah right. I grab my purse from where I dumped it on the sofa and dial John's number. He picks up on the third ring.

"Ma'am." He greets curtly like he always does.

"How far away are you, please? I want you to come pick me up." The line goes silent for a while as he's probably debating on whose orders to follow; mine or Antonio's.

"I'll be there in five." He finally decides and hangs up.

Screw all of them. First they told me about the dinner last minute and now they're letting the same Ivan who stood us up come pick me up? If Ivan ever apologised for missing lunch that day, they never told me just like the countless other things they've been hiding from me.

I open my drawer to take out my Ativan medication. Popping a pill in my mouth, I throw the bottle into my purse already knowing that it's going to be a long night and who knows? I might need it again.

John calls exactly five minutes later and I proceed down the elevator to the ground floor where he's waiting. I give him the address to the restaurant and within twenty minutes, we arrive.

So maybe I should've actually calmed down to think things through before making the irrational decision of coming here alone. When the hostess asks for my reservation details, my head goes blank. I don't know if the reservations were made in the Dmitry or Romano name.

Before I can get my phone from my purse to call my brother, I feel a strong presence behind me and then a familiar scent envelopes the air. The hostess looks up behind me and begins batting her lashes one too many times.

"it's under the name Dmitry for a party of seven." His deep voice sounds behind me as his hand finds it's way to my lower back, just above my ass.

I take note of how my body freezes to his touch. As electrifying as that was, I know not to dwell in the feeling. He might look, smell and feel amazing, it doesn't make him any less of a jerk.

The hostess, upon confirming our reservation, directs us inside the restaurant. The lighting is subtle, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. Tables are adorned with fine linen, polished silverware, and crystal glassware. The seating arrangements are well-spaced to provide a sense of privacy.

When we get to our table, everyone's already seated including Ivan's brother who I haven't met before. I must say, they both inherited good genes from their parents because his brother is just as gorgeous as him.

Everyone immediately stands up, welcoming Ivan and me as he helps me to my seat. He takes the seat by my right, leaving me sandwiched between him and his brother.

"Hey beautiful, the name's Lev." His brother greets, bringing a hand forward for a shake.

"Hey, I'm Lucia." I shake him back with a genuine smile, immediately warming up to him. We chat for a while and eat as Ivan discusses politics and stuff with the parents like he's fifty. "How old is he?" I ask Lev, referring to his brother, Ivan.

Lev lets out an amused laugh as he figures where the sudden question came from. "Why don't you ask him."

I look at Ivan, who is so engrossed in a discussion with my dad that he doesn't notice me looking. He hasn't uttered a single word to me and that just makes me feel off.

"I'll pass." Lev chuckles beside me then I lean in towards him. "Is he always this… stiff?" I say loud enough for him to hear but not so loud that Ivan hears.

"Ivan is who he is, Lucia. He's impossibly rigid to a fault and doesn't talk much incase you haven't noticed. But he's a good guy, trust me. He just needs to warm up to you and the whole marriage thing."

Well, that makes two of us then. I sigh and finish up my food. Looking around me, I notice that the other tables at this side of the restaurant are still empty. Lev notices my curiosity and fills me in on how Ivan doesn't like people being really close to him at certain times so he booked this half of the restaurant.

We've been here for well past an hour now and I can already feel my social battery draining. I consider clocking out for the night but think better of the idea because as soon as I walk out of that door, my phone won't stop buzzing until I'm seated in dad's office with a reasonable explanation of my behavior tonight.

I feel Ivan's eyes on me and as soon as I turn to look at him, unlike most men who immediately look away, Ivan's eyes remain fixated on mine. "It's rude to stare, you know." I say, dryly.

Growing uncomfortable with his scrutinizing gaze, I turn to face forward, but before I do, he asks the most unexpected question.

"Have you ever had a bbl?" He asks so casually, one would think we were talking about the weather.

"Excuse me?"

"Bbl means Brazilian But L…"

"I know what it means. No, I didn't get a bbl." I cut him off, still undoubtedly surprised. He hasn't said a word to me all night and the first thing he asks is if I had my body done? I honestly imagined that the first question he'd ask is why I didn't wait for him to pick me up as instructed.

He mutters a 'hmm' in response at the same time his phone starts ringing and excuses himself, entering a hallway.

Antonio and Lev include me in their conversation for a while before I equally excuse myself to use the ladies room.

I ask a waiter for directions and she leads me through the hallway Ivan went into. After peeing, I can't help but to think that the night went better than I expected. The Dmitry's have been nothing short of receptive toward my family, especially me.

Olga kept asking if I needed something to eat that wasn't on the table so she could place an order for me. She even suggested a different dessert option than what I would usually go for, and I'm glad I listened to her because now I just might have a new favorite dessert.

It's surprising because one would think that the mafia is all about bloodshed, violence, and all of that. Well, I don't think I'm in the position to make insinuations just yet, considering I was only thrown into this world just days ago.

I try to dwell on the thought that my new life might not be as bad as I've been thinking. With time, I'll become familiar with everything, and who knows, Ivan and I might grow to tolerate and maybe even like each other. Though that might take a while, especially with the grumpy demeanor I see in him.

I'm drying my hands with the hand dryer when I catch a familiar face strutting into the restroom through the mirror. I don't miss the smirk on the blonde's face as she sees me and then disappears into a bathroom stall.

It's the blonde I saw at Ivan's office back in Moscow. The dirty look she gave me clearly meant one thing. I'm so furious as I leave the restroom. Did he arrange this dinner to send some sort of twisted message to me by fucking his… what? Girlfriend at an occasion like this? I've never felt so insulted.

Getting to the table, I see that everyone's done with dinner and is getting ready to leave. I say my goodbyes and leave the restaurant; with neither I nor the asshole to my right sparing each other a glance.

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