Mena
No, this couldn't be true.
Alessio Fanucci didn't just use me as a scapegoat.
My eyes were wide open as everyone's attention turned towards me. I was never a big fan of the spotlight, and somehow I got involved in this mess.
The whispers, the gasps, the murmurs—the attention was suffocating, and so was Alessio's grip around my waist, pulling me closer.
I was lost, caught up in Alessio's twisted game that I didn't understand, let alone wished to play. All I could do was stand there, glued to my spot as fear crashed over me.
My plan for the night was to avoid the Fanuccis and the Baldinis.
Obviously that didn't work out.
"Jimena," Alessio locked his eyes onto mine, giving me a look that was enough of a warning that I couldn't f**k this up.
I gulped, wondering what kind of nonse
