Author's Pov:
Holding her white flared skirt with one hand while clutching the small bag with the other, Ezelea descended the grand staircase, looking like an angelic vision against the backdrop of the mansion's opulent decor. She's going to the art gallery where she spent countless hours with her friends who actually owned that place. Recently she started working there after a lot of help from her aunt, who succeeded in convincing Silvestre that at least she should do something other than sit around the house.
"Is your exam over that you're again going to that place?" A high-pitched voice echoed through the grand hall, making her stop midway, her hand gripping the staircase rail tightly as she turned to face the speaker, who just came out of his study room. What he's doing here? She thought her uncle had already left for the office, but like a shadow, he was always there when she least expected him. "Uncle, I have a break between exams today, so I just thought..."
Only she knows how the words came out, like a leaf torn from a book by the harsh winds of reality. Her uncle has always disliked her going to the art gallery, even though he dislikes her doing art, but since he knew she's very good at it, he allowed it, but only at the mansion and for mansion decoration purposes. Silvestre knew she had few friends outside the mansion, which was rare for a girl like Ezelea, who had always been a loner, mostly because of his strictness and the fear that she might bring something unwanted from outside into the sanctity of the Castellanos mansion, but it looks like someone had finally cracked that shell of loneliness, which he didn't like at all; he didn't want her to get influenced by the 'outside world'.
"Till your exams are not over, you're not..." But his words were cut off by the sound of his wife's footsteps approaching them. "Let her go; she'll be back before evening." Cristina knows how much her husband hates Ezelea's going out or interacting with any stranger, but she also knew that sometimes freedom is like a balm to a soul trapped in the cage of responsibilities. Not wanting to argue with his wife in front of Ezelea, Silvestre merely grunted in response, his stern gaze never leaving Ezelea's tiny form as she finished descending the stairs and hurried out of the mansion without looking back as if she were afraid he'd change his mind, before walking back to his study room. Silvestre turned to his wife and whispered, "Your softness on her shouldn't make her forget that she's not ours to keep forever."
The art gallery wasn't far from the mansion, but due to the strictness and overprotective nature of her uncle, she had to be driven there by one of the security guards that always tailed her. The ride was silent as the car glided through the cobblestone streets, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the occasional chirp of birds outside. She has decided to stop going to the art gallery as she doesn't want to upset her uncle anymore by staying out longer than she should; he never asks for much from her, just to do well in her studies and stay away from the outside world.
Over the years, Ezelea had noticed how possessive and protective her uncle was, but she also knew that he had his own reasons for it, reasons that he never shared with anyone, even not with his wife, who had tried to talk him out of his ways, but it was like convincing a mountain to move, something Ezelea had accepted and learned to live with. She heard from her aunt that this strict and possessive behavior is a chain that her uncle is carrying from his ancestor, a legacy that he was born into. The men of Castellanos were never known for their gentle hearts or kindness; they were known for their fiery tempers and their iron will, something she had seen in her uncle's eyes every time she stepped out of the line. They're highly protective and possessive towards their family, especially towards their woman, and she had seen it in the way her uncle looked at her aunt, the way his eyes softened and his face lit up every time she entered the room. It was something that was both terrifying and heartwarming at the same time because she never missed the death glare he had for any man who even dared to glance at her aunt for too long.
And she knew Alastair was a little short of the same. She had seen his fiery nature and how aggressive he was like his father whenever they used to play together, but she had also seen the softness in his eyes and the care he had for her, which was pure and untouched by the harshness of the world. His possessiveness towards her never scared her; it was something that made her feel protected and loved, something she craved for since she was a child.
Even though they have spent only 2 years together, those 2 years had been more than enough to shape her entire life, but she also knew over these years he may have changed, had become more mature, more responsible, and probably more demanding; after all, he was the heir to the Castellanos empire, but she had faith that the boy she knew was still in there, somewhere deep down, waiting to come out, and she had changed too; she was no longer that shy and naive little girl who would run around the mansion without any care in the world; she had grown into a beautiful young lady, maybe not as sophisticated as her aunt, but still had the innocence that her aunt always cherished in her.
Only she knows how much she has craved to hear his voice in the last 10 years, at least once, but her uncle made it clear in his stern way that no one is allowed to disturb Alastair in his studies through any means of communication, not even a single letter, a single message, not even a single phone call. Even her aunt gets to talk to him once on his birthday, and that's it. Ezelea had only seen her aunt's tears and a big smile on her face when she talked to him, but unlucky her was not allowed even that. All she could do was pray for his well-being and wait for the day when she could finally see him again.
Despite being worldwide known for their business and ganster empire, the Castellanos family had a very peculiar tradition of keeping themselves aloof from the outside world, especially when it came to their heirs. They're not like the typical billionaires who flaunt their wealth, power, and family all over the media; they're more like a silent storm that could wreak havoc without anyone knowing it's coming. So, it was no surprise that no one had ever seen Alastair's face except for a few selected people, which his dad had allowed. Ezelea many times tried to search for him in different business magazines or even on the internet, but she never found anything about him; it was like he never existed. So, she had no idea how he looked now or how much he had changed from the last time she saw him. Would he still have those mischievous russets, or would they be now filled with the weight of responsibilities and power? Would he still have those dimples that used to appear whenever he used to laugh? Would he still be that playful, caring person, or would he have turned into a strict, cold-hearted man like her uncle?
Upon arriving at the art gallery, she told the guard to stay outside as she'd be back soon, and she dashed inside before he could protest. Actually, she doesn't want to bring her personal problems to her friends' place of work, where maybe some customers were around. The moment she stepped in, she was greeted by the sight of her friends, who were busy arranging new art pieces that had arrived early in the morning. "Tulip," a young boy with his curly brown hair and sparkling spake of hazel in his eyes, called her from the counter as soon as he saw her.
"Good morning, Kevin!" Ezelea greeted before approaching the counter with a
small bounce in her step. Hailey also looked up from her canvas, a smudge of paint on her nose, and a wide smile spread across her face as she saw Ezelea. "You're here! I thought you had exams today," she exclaimed, setting her brush aside and wiping her hands on a rag before walking over to give her friend a tight hug.
"No, I have a break between exams." Kevin noticed how her cheeks had turned a shade of pink, which was something new for the usually calm and composed Ezelea. "Actually, I came here to hand over some of the sketches I did. I thought they might fit well in the upcoming exhibition." She said she was handing over her bag to Kevin, who looked at her with curiosity in his eyes before Hayey took the bag from him and pulled out the sketches with eager hands, her eyes lighting up like stars when she saw Ezelea's creations. "Wow, Lea, these are amazing! You've outdone yourself again!" It's hard to believe that someone who lives in such a strict environment could create such beautiful pieces of art, full of life and color that seemed to dance on the pages. "Thanks," Ezelea said with a small smile. She had spent countless hours working on these sketches, hoping that they would be good enough to be displayed in the gallery.
"Okay, I should get back," she glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, which showed it was almost time for her to return home. Also, the security guard must be waiting outside. "Huh! Why don't you stay a bit longer? You can help us with the new exhibition setup," Hayey suggested with a hopeful expression, knowing how much Ezelea enjoyed spending time at the gallery, but the girl just shook her head.
"I can't, I'm sorry," she replied, her eyes briefly meeting Hailey's before shifting away again. "What happened, tulip? You were so excited for this exhibition than why the sudden change in plans?" Kevin asked, placing his hand on her shoulder gently, trying to read the emotions that played across her doll's face, but she remained as enigmatic as ever.
She took a deep breath, knowing she couldn't keep it to herself anymore. "You know my uncle doesn't like me staying out too long, especially when exams are around the corner." She paused, her gaze drifting to the floor before continuing. "Also, I won't be able to come here much as Alastair is coming back next month, so I don't want to upset anyone by creating any issue."
Just a week ago, her uncle informed them that Alastair would be returning from abroad, and her aunt already started preparing for his grand homecoming, and she doesn't want to be the one who brings any sort of trouble before that. The siblings exchanged a knowing look with a sense of worry. They have witnessed their friend's loyalty toward that one man, but what makes them feel concerned is the fear that he is also waiting for her the same way she's waiting for him. Would he be the same person she always cherished in her heart? They didn't know the answers to these questions, but one thing they knew for sure was that Ezelea's heart is as fragile as a pure crystal that could shatter into million pieces, which can never be joined again if the truth is not what she's expecting it to be.
They knew nothing about Alastair except that he's a Castellanos, and that was enough for them to be worried about Ezelea; all they do is wish that he's worth all the love and hope she had been carrying for him. "Don't worry, tulip, we'll manage it somehow. You better focus on your studies now," Kevin said with a gentle smile, even though he felt a pang of sadness knowing that he'll have to share her less than before.
Bidding her friends goodbye, Ezelea went back to the mansion, noticing how the atmosphere had changed since the announcement of Alastair's return. All the flowers that were previously planted had been removed from the garden; even the greenhouse was closed down as Alastair was allergic to pollen of any sort. Even the security was looking more vigilant than ever; that seemed to be a common pattern when something important was about to happen in the Castellanos family.
Walking back to her room, she was greeted by the sight of her half-finished painting, which she had started the day before but had to leave untouched due to her studies. The canvas was still standing there, calling her name, begging to be completed, and she couldn't resist the pull. Holding the canvas in one hand and her paintbrush in another, she stepped out of the room to the garden, which was her personal heaven.
The garden was a place where she had always found solace, a place where she could let her imagination run wild and express her thoughts on the canvas, but today it felt different; today it felt like a prison, as if the walls of the mansion had extended to engulf the one place she could breathe freely. Signing heavily, she looked up to the sky; it was clear, not a single cloud in sight, which was quite rare in their city as usually the smog and dust covered the blue, but today it was clear like it was trying to tell her something, something she couldn't understand. "Don't be sad, Lea," flinching slightly at the sound of a familiar voice, Ezelea turned around to find her aunt walking towards her holding two steaming cups of tea.
Cristina had a way of knowing exactly when Ezelea needed her without her saying a single word. "I know sometimes your uncle's rules might seem too much, but you know he's only doing it for your good." She handed her one of the cups with a comforting smile, looking at the half-done painting. "But don't worry, once Alastair is back, I'm sure things will change for the better," she added, trying to ease the sadness in Ezelea's eyes who looked at her with those big eyes that mirrored the innocence of her soul.
"Alastair may look a lot like Silvestre, but inside he's nothing like him, and after seeing the world beyond these walls, I'm sure he'll bring with him a different perspective, a fresh air that we all need to breathe." Sipping her tea, Cristina spoke in a gentle tone that soothed Ezelea's soul like a lullaby, but her eyes were still holding onto the doubt that had been planted deep within her.
"But isn't every Castellanos man gone abroad to study, but they all came back the same, or even more strict than before?" Looking straight at the half painting of a beautiful field of lavenders with a solitary swing in the middle, Cristina took a deep breath, having hope on her own words that they didn't turn into falsehood. She knew Castellanos men and the blood that runs through their veins, which was thick with the legacy of power and cruelty, but she had prayed day and night for her son to be different, that he would understand the value of freedom and happiness, which is something that Silvestre never knew.
"Everyone is different," she said before gently scooping up Ezelea's free hand in her own. "Alastair was never like any other Castellanos man; even as a child, he was always kind and gentle, always looking for happiness in the smallest things. I'm sure that the outside world will only make my son realize how important it is to keep those qualities intact. After all, my love, sometimes the harshness of the world doesn't change you; it just shows you how much more you need to hold onto what makes you, you." A wave of relief washed over Ezelea's face hearing her aunt's words. All she wished was that her Alastair didn't turn into someone she didn't recognize anymore.
Two weeks swept by in a flurry of her exams that seemed never-ending, and because of which she couldn't visit the church much or even the art gallery, as she had promised her uncle she would focus solely on her studies until her exams were over. And finally, the day came when she could breathe a sigh of relief—the day her exams ended. Clutching her backpack tightly, Ezelea walked into the mansion's grand foyer in search of a familiar figure who must be eagerly waiting for her. "Aunt, I'm back," she called out as soon as she stepped inside the grand archway, only to lower her pace as she caught sight of her uncle calmly settled on his usual couch with a stern look on his face.
Slowly approaching, Ezelea braced herself for the lecture she knew was coming when her midnight blues saw the back of an unfamiliar figure settled in front of her aunt, who was smiling like it's the hardest thing she's ever done in her life. "Lea, you're back! Come here," as soon as Cristina saw Ezelea walking like a lost child, she called her, who was still looking at the stranger with confusion in her eyes. She knew her uncle had many business associates, but he never brought any of them home, especially someone who looked like that, dressed in a quite provocative and expensive dress that was showcasing her curves more than it should be, which will be the last thing her uncle would permit.
Taking a seat next to her aunt, Ezelea couldn't ignore the awkward silence that filled the air. The woman whose cheery red locks were styled in loose curls and whose green eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief finally turned around to face her with a frown, marring her otherwise perfect makeup, which later deepened when Cristina spoke, "Meet Ezelea, my daughter." The young lady, for a brief moment, just looked at Ezelea in shock, as if she had seen a ghost making Ezelea feel like a thief who had just been caught red-handed in her own house. "Oh, I didn't know you had a daughter, Mrs. Castellanos." Her sweet voice dripped with honey and pulled a genuine smile over Ezelea's lips. "Nice to meet you; I'm Sabrina." But before she could finish her introduction, a haunting, deep, husky voice echoed from the top of the grand staircase, completing Sabrina's words, "My fiance."
Ezelea's breath hitched the very moment her hazy midnight blues collided with the familiar russet hue that had haunted her dreams for years—the same eyes she had painted countless times in her secret sketchbook filled with her imaginations of the man who is now standing right in front of her. For a second she forgot to breathe; her heart was racing in her chest like it was trying to escape the prison of her ribcage and fly to the person who was now descending down the stairs, with the grace of a Greek god, power emanating from every step he took, making her feel like a mere mortal in his presence.
He was supposed to come next week; why was he here? Was it really him? Her mind was bombarded with a hundred thoughts at once when again his previous words echoed in her mind, snatching away every bit of happiness she felt the moment she saw him leaving a void so deep it felt like it was going to swallow her whole.
"My fiance"
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Catch you later 🦋