The Mafia Dons Pet (Masha and Luciano) novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Girl and Her Camera.

*Masha*

It had been two weeks since the wedding, and true to Luciano’s words, my life had changed drastically.

It wasn’t just the fact that I now had an overbearing stepbrother, but also the fact that I couldn’t go anywhere without being supervised.

My two bodyguards, Matt and Tyler, they followed me everywhere, including school.

Even now as I walked out of photography class, a camera bag slung over my shoulder, Matt and Tyler trailed closely behind

1. me.

I felt my jaw tighten with each step they took to keep up. In an attempt to get rid of them, I quickened my pace, hoping they’d take a hint, but their footsteps only grew louder.

It was strange, but I would take this over interacting with Luciano.

We hadn’t spoken since our awkward Sunday lunch.

If I was lucky, maybe Sundays would be the only time I had to face him. Seeing him on days where I wasn’t ‘obligated‘ to would be pure torture.

Instead of turning left toward home, I veered right toward Harrison Park, the one place I hoped would shake off my two tagalongs.

Professor Donald’s words about lighting and composition still buzzed in my head.

And the late afternoon sun seemed like the perfect condition for practice.

But those damn footsteps behind me… They trailed behind me like shadows as I walked into the park.

I took a deep breath and turned to face them.

“Listen, I know you’re doing your job,” I began, keeping my tone as natural as I could. “I just need some time alone to get this right.”

Matt exchanged a glance with Tyler, who looked hesitant, as his gaze swept over the park, as if deciding if it was safe for me to be alone.

Eventually, Tyler nodded, taking a step back. Once they disappeared around the corner, I let out a long breath and set

my camera.

I could still feel their eyes on me from somewhere, but I forced

myself to focus as I lifted my camera to my eye. Click. Check. Adjust. Click again.

My eyes traveled around the park, taking random pictures of kids running, a butterfly perched on a rosebush, a man kissing a woman sweetly on the cheek.

Before I could take the next shot, a pair of polished black

leather shoes entered my frame. Something about those shoes felt familiar, and without thinking, I took several shots of them. But as the shoes moved closer, I finally recognized the familiar Italian leather and the measured pace.

I didn’t need to look up to know it was Luciano.

My pulse quickened, but I kept my camera, raised, shifting the lens to a cluster of trees, pretending I hadn’t noticed him. I focused on the twisted branches, hoping that Luciano was here to see Matt and Tyler, not me.

Unfortunately, the shoes came to a stop directly in front of me. I resisted the urge to look up, fiddling with my camera, adjusting settings that didn’t need adjusting.

When I finally dared to meet his gaze, his dark eyes were already fixed on me. “Show me,” he said, the words almost sounding like a command.

My fingers tightened around the camera, but I swallowed my reluctance and nodded, scrolling back to his pictures I’d taken, surprised by the great photos that filled the screen.

I handed him the camera, feeling strangely vulnerable as he held it, studying the images one by one.

I watched his face, searching for anything that might reveal what he was thinking. But, in his usual style, his expression stayed carefully neutral.

“Let me see the others,” he said again, his tone giving no hint of approval or disapproval.

With a swift nod, I scrolled backward through my collection, and still, there was no reaction on his face. His eyes remained cold and distant as he stared at the pictures.

Suddenly he stopped looking, pausing to stare at something. “What’s this for?”

I peaked at the camera screen and saw an image of a girl, wearing a simple red dress, standing in a room filled with people dressed in designer items, holding up a poster with a huge question mark drawn on it.

“Oh.” I cleared my throat, trying to think of the best way to explain the image.

“Well?”

“It’s for a script I wrote,” I explained, looking away. “It’s about a girl who questions upper society, finding ways to survive,

Chapter 8: A Girl and Her Camera

learning to fit in.” But what I didn’t say was that it was about me, how I fit into this new world, HIS world.

Luciano shrugged, his posture relaxed, unbothered.

“We’re family,” he said simply. He knew what the script meant, but his answer to everything was that we were family.

Before I could respond, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded document, holding it out with that same calm, unflinching expression.

“Your financial situation has changed,” he announced, pushing the document into my free hand. “That’s your new setup.‘ “What?”

I stared at the document in my hand for a moment, not quite understanding what he was saying or what I was looking at. But as it began to dawn on me, a hot pulse of anger surged within me. “Are you serious?” I threw the document back at his chest. “You’ve taken control of my expenses? Are you kidding me?‘

He didn’t flinch, his expression as steady as before.

“I’m not going to let you do this. I’m not… never going to take any dime you offer.

I didn’t want to look at his stubborn face anymore, so I stormed off, shifting my camera to my left hand. But Luciano’s hand shot out, gripping my wrist forcefully.

I was so shocked by this that my camera slipped from my grasp, crashing with a loud shattering sound, broken pieces of the screen scattering across the park.

I stopped, stared, as if in a dream.

This was all Luciano’s fault.

Filled with rage, I glared up at him. “You bastard,” I spat at him, tears blurring my vision.

He didn’t understand that my camera was the most precious thing to me. Not because it was extremely expensive, but because it was the only thing that was about ME, the only thing that made me happy.

I frantically dropped to my knees, my fingers trembling as I gathered the cracked pieces, placing them in my bag. I sniffed, feeling one thing and one thing only.

I hated Luciano Vincenzoni.

Without looking back, I turned to leave, determined to put as much distance between us as I could.

But I could hear Luciano following me, and soon enough, his hand closed around my shoulder before I could successfully pull away.

Chapter 8: A Girl and Her Camera.

He pressed me against him, his fingers gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

I instantly knew what was coming.

“Did you just call me a bastard?” His tone was sharp with disbelief, as if I was the one who had wronged him. His grip on my chin tightened.

“You broke my camera!” I shouted.

“If you hadn’t overreacted,” he continued, “none of this would‘ ve happened. You just can’t seem to control yourself.

This was MY fault now? I could barely breathe from the fury and frustration. “Why can’t you just let me be myself?” I, shouted, earning some looks, but I didn’t care. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

He tilted his head, his expression shifting into something darker. “I thought caring for you was my job at first. But the more you resist…‘

He paused, his gaze intense. “The more exciting this… exchange becomes. So why stop now? Let’s keep this game going.”

“You’re a demon,” I spat, the words escaping before I could hold them back.

He smiled, dropping his hand from my chin. “Call me whatever you want, but consider this a warning.” His voice was like ice as he stared me down, trying to intimidate me. “Disrespect me again, and I’ll make sure you regret it.‘

And with that, he turned and walked away, as if he hadn’t just taken another precious thing from me. I watched his figure disappear, a crushing sense of despair settling over me.