❛❛She was the voice that calmed the storm in him❞
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"Ti amo." his voice was barey above a whisper as placed a soft kiss on my forehead.
Dante held me in his arms, his fingers brushing through my hair.
My heart fluttered. "I love you m...
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I S A B E L L A
My eyes flutter open as I awoke. Last nights memories of a nightmare still clinging to my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Did Lucia already find me? I think I'll just get beaten up. But I do feel bandages over my injuries. Lucia would never clean injuries. Like hell, she wouldn't even go near the kitchen to wash dishes.
I slowly opened my eyes and panic surged through me as I looked in front of me and realised that I wasn't in my house, but someone else's.
What the hell?
I looked around me in the unfamiliar surroundings, the room was spacious and elegantly furnished, a stark contrast to the shitty, hell like place I had just run away. That means I escaped.
Yayyyyyy
Where am I though? Did I get kidnapped?
Oh no. Not again, I'm too pretty to be held hostage.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I struggled to catch my breath. The events of the previous night felt like a distant, hazy memory.
My thoughts were all over the place and all I could think about was how I needed to run. I couldn't be a another person's hostage.
Not again.
I blew out a harsh breath and decided to get up.
But that wasn't a good idea, because as soon I tried to sit up, my body protested, aching from all the running and wounds I have.
The door creaked open, and I flinched, expecting the worst. Instead, a tall figure entered the room.
It was him—the man from my dream.
The insanely hot man and still looking hot as ever.
As I stared at him I realised that my dream wasn't a dream it was real.
Holy shit.
"Good morning," he said softly, his voice a deep, soothing rumble. He approached the bed slowly, as if not to startle me. "How are you feeling?"
I didn't know how to respond. Fear and confusion clouded my thoughts. "Why am I here? What happened? Who are you?" I rush out words, my voice trembling.
"You're safe," he reassured me, sitting on the edge of the bed. "This is my penthouse. No one will hurt you here."
Safe. The word sounded foreign to me, almost meaningless after everything I had been through. But there was something in his tone, a gentleness that I couldn't ignore.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I quickly wiped them away, embarrassed about crying.
The man reached out, but stopped halfway, as if unsure whether his touch would be assured. "You don't have to be afraid ," he said gently. "You almost got hit by my car, and you were heavily injured so I guess I will help you get better."
