The Romanian Noblewoman (Lady Dimitrescu x Female Reader)

New Face, Old Face

"You know very well why I'm here, Mr. Bradley." you look up at the old man seated on his wheelchair. He smiles and shakes his head.

"Sweetheart, I didn't ask you WHY you're here. I asked you HOW you got here." he crosses his hands and places them on his lap.

"Why don't you take a guess?" you smirk. Your head was still throbbing but you look past it. Mr. Bradley's face turned cold from being very smug, very quickly. He leans back on his wheelchair and raises an eyebrow.

"My grandson would never betray me-"

"Yet I'm here." you grin. He leans in and smirks.

"You're smiling now, my dear. But you will suffer a consequence so painful, you'll forget whose allegiance you uphold." he leans back into his wheelchair "GUARDS!" he calls out. Two very ripped men stride into the room, exuding an air of intimidation. Mr. Bradley looks at you and grins.

"Take her downstairs. And ask my assistant to call her."

.

Your eyes dart open. It takes you a while for your head to stop spinning.

'Miranda must've hit me really hard. Fuck, it hurts.'

You squeeze your eyes shut and massage your temples. You open them and look up. You look to your right and see a small caged window through which the faintest of light illuminated the bed which was, in turn, mounted to the wall.

'Fuck me. What is this nonsense?' you frown and sit up. You squeeze your temples once again and sigh-

"Hi!" the voice came from your left. You whip your head around and what you see makes you widen your eyes. You see a toddler standing in its crib, holding the rim with one hand and sticking its other hand out of the crib. 

'Could it be?' 

You get up and start walking to it, slowly. It had long blonde hair that reached its shoulders and beautiful yellow eyes, just like Alcina's. As you approach the kid, its grin widens, as if exhilarated at looking at another human.

"Hi!" it says again as you reach it.

"Hi, honey." you smile at it. It was a teeny thing, this child. Yet, its face had the power to melt even the coldest of hearts. You had never laid eyes on something this adorable. You kneel on the floor so that your face was at eye level with his.

"Ottopusso." he lifts his other hand over the crib and hands you a stuffed toy. You look at the toy and raise your eyebrows.

"Oh! Is this your octopus?" you emote an expression of wonderment. The child nods enthusiastically. He looks down at his crib's mattress and reaches for something else.

"Aaaaaaand horsie." he stands up again and hands you a small wooden toy horse.

"Oh, wooooowww! Such a pretty horse!" you exclaim and grin at him. He squeals and reaches down again.

"Mooooo." he hands you another toy.

"Is this your cow?" you grin at him, your eyes welling up with tears. You look at the mattress and see that his little leg was chained to the crib itself, avoiding any escape.

'He's a fucking child.' you start to rage. A few drops of tears fall onto your cheeks. 

"No cry, Mama." the child reaches his hand through the space between two bars of his crib and wipes your eyes. You sniff and let out a small sob.

"Oh I'm not crying, sweetheart." you take his little arm in yours and give his palm a soft kiss. One part of you wants to tell him that you're not his mother but when you look at the chain again, you realise his position. He has probably never received love or care from anyone. That woman Miranda mentioned, Zoe. You don't know how she treated this baby. And he's a toddler. So, you let this slide. You don't want to admit that that word sparked a bit of joy in you. You caress your face with his palm, showing him what human touch feels like. You look at his arm again to give it another kiss but you notice something tied around his wrist. You take a closer look and see a plastic strap with a white paper like center wrapped around his wrist. There was some writing on the white paper part.