The stunning, pale-faced girl wailed uncontrollably. 

"Papá!! No! Per favore, non farlo!!" 

On bloodied knees, she implored. Her long dark hair, a nest of tangles. The deep hollowed eyes and the indented cheekbones, proof of malnourishment. 

"Your weeping means nothing to me," he spat. "I've tried everything to keep you apart. Everything!! And you defy me every, single, time!"

She whimpered. Unstoppable tears and mucus rolled down her face, and unto her expensive garments.

"I, loved you, protected you, fed you!! And, you failed me. Repaid me by leaving, with him?! That imbecile commoner son of my mortal enemy?!" 

Saliva dribbled out of his mouth when he screamed the savage words.

"You are nothing to me. Do you hear me?! Niente!" His laughter sinister and evil, resonated through the room, shaking its walls. "You know? I thought long and hard about what your punishment should be and, finally, I have the knowledge, and power, to do so."

"Papá, per favore! Don't kill me. You can keep me here, a prisoner, as you have these past weeks." Her small frame trembled in fear.

He lifted his hand as if to strike her but stopped inches from her face. "Kill you?! It's what I should do for leaving with that bastard. But no. That would be too quick a punishment for the pair of you. What I have in store, is much, much worse."

Her father walked to the adjoining room and came back with an antique, golden mirror.

"Father!" weeping out of control she reached out attempting to touch him, but he flinched away, his garb dissipating through her trembling fingers. "We love each other. We are married!"

After those words, everything happened in slow motion. The turn of his head, the red look in his eyes, the foreign language out of his lips... cursing her and his kin for eternity.

"I rather hold you inside this mirror forever than let you go with him. No one, in this family, will ever be a part of, or love anyone from the Abelli family. Capisci?!"

She sobbed holding her head between her hands, "what's happening?! Father!" The feeling of being shrunk was real, and far too agonizingly painful to bear, as a final, strangled shriek left her lips tearing through the castle.

~ * ~

"Jean? Quanti anni ha tuo bisnonno?" The seventeen-year-old girl innocently asked. "He looks younger than my granddaddy."

"One one-hundred-fifty?" they giggle. "I don't know how old my great-grandfather is. I think he's lived forever." Infatuated, he looked at her with loving eyes. His dark pupils descending down her beauty. 

"I'm serious Jean. I heard mama say he's actually your great-great-great-grandfather, and will never die."

"What?!" He laughed. "Why was your mama talking about my great-grandfather, Sofia?"

The girl lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "They were talking about the masquerade ball your family has every year."

"Are you coming?" He arched a hopeful brow.

Her eyes shifted to the grassy field beyond his face, then, the stoned pathway they casually laid on. Nervously Sofia laced her fingers together. "You know I can't." The breeze picked up and swung the chestnut tendrils tenderly about her face. Reaching for the loose strands he curled one around his fingers, admiring it, like spun gold. 

"Look at me Sofia."

She wouldn't. 

"I shouldn't even be here with you. My family doesn't get along with your family." The tone of her voice laced with sadness. "You know they forbade me to be your friend."

Gently Jean lifted her chin with his index finger zeroing in on the freckles dotting her nose, and the olive-green irises that mesmerized him. "Mine too but, you know I don't care about that. I'll never listen." His grin mischievous, making her smile back. "You'll never rid of me that easily." He teased.

"I know you don't, but I do. I'm afraid of your great-grandfather Jean. He gives me the willies." A chill ran down her spine.

"All those stories, about his youngest daughter going missing so many years ago... those are urban legends," he shook his head, "not real."

"I know they can't be true but, my parents believe them. Your family's story has passed generation, after generation. Funny thing is, I heard my great-great-grand uncle, in peace he may rest, and her, were in love then, even married!"

"Your great-great-grand-what?! Married to Florencia?" Quizzically he looked her in the eye and rubbed the back of his neck. "Makes no sense!" He heartily laughed. "Plus, your great-great-granduncle would've been too old for her. A different generation even!" 

"That's what makes no sense, I heard they were the same age back then. Sixteen? A-and, when he found out, he made a pact," she paused lowering her voice so only he could hear, "with the devil."

"Who?!"

"Your great-great-great-grandfather!"

Seeing the fear in her eyes, his voice became soft. "Does that truly make sense to you?" 

Quickly, she shook her head.

"Mother told me she died of an illness and it gravely affected her father. We barely speak of her, out of respect. According to her, people made up stories afterward; that she'd disappeared with a lover, or that her father murdered her... Gossip is all." He shrugged.

She still felt unsettled and shifted uncomfortably.

"Come here." His whisper, a gentle caress.

Opening his arms wide, he invited her in and she, much too quickly, accepted. The warmness enveloped them and the goosebumps took over her body.  Lately, she felt goosies every time he came near her, even though, she only saw him as a friend before. But today, he looked especially handsome, and the smell of him, delicious.

"Come tomorrow night. It's a masquerade after all. They will never know you're an Abelli"

"It's risky." She spoke against the comfort of his chest. "What will I tell my parents?" The back and forth massage of his fingers on her back interrupted her thought process. "Jean, I-"

Lifting her face, she encountered the swell of his lips. Without thought, she pressed her mouth to his, hard. Passionately. And Jean responded equally.

"Sofia," breathless he spoke. "I've loved you for so long." He pecked kisses on her cheeks, her nose, her eyes.

"You what?!" Her eyes were open so wide, her eyeballs could have fallen off her face. 

"I love you. I do." He kissed her again and again. Until their lips were swollen.

"Promise me you'll come. Tomorrow."

She laid still in his arms.

"Please," Jean begged against her temple. "Say you will."

She could only nod. "I promise."

Please Vote If You Liked The Story :)