5- A CHAOTIC DINNER
1282 Words
JENNIFER
"You?" he whispered.
Luca's eyes bore into me, his lips curling in a disbelieving sneer. His fingers ran through his brown, tousled hair, while I remained frozen in my seat, unable to find my voice amidst the charged atmosphere.
Tension thickened the air, and my mother leaned closer, whispering, "Honey, have you two met?"
Marco, Luca's father, gave a measured look to his son, then attempting to retain some semblance of civility, gestured toward the vacant chair with an air of weary authority. "Have your seat."
Luca’s piercing gaze never left me as he hurled his next words like daggers. "Does your girlfriend know her daughter has been chasing me around since she saw me in school?" His words dripped with disdain.
"What? That's a lie," I stammered, my voice wavering. My words, intended to be firm, hung feebly in the air, as I struggled to process the unfolding situation. How could this be happening? How could such a coincidence even exist?
Luca raised an incredulous eyebrow. "How many hearts are you chasing now? Or am I the only one you're stalking beyond campus?"
"Luca, watch your language," his father commanded.
I sat motionless, my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, the quiver in my lips betraying the turmoil inside me. For the first time, words failed me, leaving me defenceless in the face of the overwhelming notion that my world might turn upside down. I couldn't let my mother pursue a relationship with Luca's father when I couldn't even stand Luca himself. We couldn't become step-siblings.
Luca turned to his father with a smirk. "I hope you've warned her about your little commitment issues?" The words sliced through the air, leaving a silence that was promptly shattered by the sound of a sharp slap. Luca’s head jerked to the side from the force, but he recovered quickly, fixing his father with a glare.
"What did you just say to me?" Marco growled.
"Marco, please," my mother pleaded, her voice quaking.
Tears welled in my eyes as I watched this family drama unfold. It was evident that Luca and his father were far from having a harmonious relationship, and this was what Mom wanted to throw us into.
"You have no right to behave like a bratty ten-year-old. Don't insult my guests," Marco admonished, trying to regain control of the situation.
An unspoken battle seemed to ensue between Luca and his father, their eyes locked in a duel of wills. Luca's hands balled into fists at his sides, his jaw muscles twitching with barely restrained rage, but he refrained from further provocation. It seemed his father still had some sway over him.
"Now, you will sit down and have dinner quietly," his father decreed and took his seat.
Reluctantly, Luca took a seat beside me. Of course, he would obey. Disobedience would mean forfeiting the privileges and wealth he flaunted at school, as well as losing that flashy Ferrari. He would be reduced to nothing if he dared defy his father's authority. Although Marco had calmed the situation, my appetite had vanished. I couldn't bear to sit in the same room as Luca while he continued to belittle me.
I stood up slowly, not wanting to appear rude, and accidentally dropped my spoon. "I'll retire for the night. Thank you for the meal."
"Honey, are you okay?" my mother asked softly, reaching for my hand, but I subtly withdrew it before she could touch me.
"I'm fine. I apologise for leaving like this, but I have homework. Goodnight." With that, I left the dining room without looking back. My stomach grumbled as I climbed the stairs, but my pride kept me from returning.
I couldn't allow this union to proceed. It was clear that Luca had no respect for my mother or me. In my assigned room, I collapsed on the bed and faced the ceiling. Minutes passed, and I couldn't make sense of the situation. Finally, I closed my eyes, forcing myself to sleep.
I woke up to the growling of my empty stomach. It wasn't morning yet, and I found myself tucked in bed. Apparently, I had dozed off while staring at the ceiling. I grunted and reached for my cell phone on the nightstand. It was 2:00 a.m., and hunger gnawed at me. I hadn't eaten before coming to the Ferrari mansion, and Luca's sour attitude had denied me dinner last night. My pride had gotten in the way of my hunger.
With a groan, I sat up in bed, shrouded in darkness. I was sure everyone else in the house was asleep by now, and there must be some food or snacks in the refrigerator. Sliding my feet into my slippers, I tiptoed out of my room, making sure to be as silent as possible. I sneaked down to the kitchen, using only the faint glow of my phone screen to guide me, avoiding the use of its flashlight to avoid drawing attention.
The house was enveloped in silence. In the kitchen, I navigated confidently, thanks to my previous tasks with my mother. I opened the well-stocked refrigerator, a triumphant smile lighting up my face. I retrieved a loaf of bread and a jar of jam, taking them to the kitchen island. I found a spoon and spread jam on my bread. As I devoured my late-night meal, the kitchen suddenly flooded with light as the overhead lights flicked on, exposing me with the jar of jam and bread halfway to my mouth.
A series of camera clicks filled the air, and I stood there, jam-covered bread in my mouth, facing Luca Ferrari as he captured my least dignified moment.
"What are you doing?" I mumbled through a mouthful of food.
He checked his phone. "Taking pictures of you stealing in my house."
"I wasn't stealing," I protested, my voice hushed to avoid waking my mother or Marco.
"What do you call sneaking into my kitchen at 2:00 a.m. and eating in the dark?" Luca asked, his focus still on his phone.
How had he known I was in the kitchen? I silently prayed for divine intervention to save me from my impending stepbrother.
"I'm hungry," I confessed, my voice a blend of defiance and resignation.
He finally looked at me. "You are more interesting than you first appeared. Do you make a habit of stealing from men's houses?"
"I don't go to men's houses," I retorted, bitterness seeping into my tone.
"Really? Well, your mother does, and now both of you are here in my house. What do you want?" Luca raised an eyebrow.
My hands itched to slap him for his words, but instead, I grabbed the jam jar and walked past him to return it to the refrigerator, ignoring his presence. Before brushing past him, he showed me my pictures on his phone.
"I'm posting this on the faculty forum."
My heart sank, plummeting to the pit of my stomach. "Luca, please," I found myself pleading.
"Please isn't in my vocabulary. Pack your things and leave our house. Leave us alone," he retorted, pocketing his phone, and turning his back to me to exit.
"I never wanted this either," I whispered, tears quivering in my voice. "Our parents made this choice, why take it out on me?"
He paused and glanced back at me. "Because I can't stand the thought of having you as a stepsister. If you don't want to endure hell, then get out. I'm sure your mother will listen to you," he growled before walking away.
"You're so cold and heartless," I muttered as he left.
He waved dismissively without looking back. "I thought you'd never notice."
- Writer
