A/N: Dedicated to ayraalove18
She has been an absolute sweet heart straight from my first chapter...and I've been stupidly forgetting giving credit to her for motivating me into keep writing. Chapter 25 is for you ayraa.
You matter. Each one of you matter.
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Steel spoons and glass dishes cranked in the Italian murmurs. Servants ushered quietly around the dining, filling the already flowing plates with scrumptious dishes. Apart from sloshing of colored liquid in red wine glasses, suppressed chuckles of gossiping women and, sincere discussion among men, nothing seemed important in the room. Tara couldn't help but not care. Not that she still didn't understand Italian, she didn't want to. It was way better to not know things. The language barrier certainly was a blessing. She was never expected to take part in conversations. She couldn't be more glad for being excluded from their family chit chats. But as much as she wanted to, Donavan didn't leave her alone.
Ever since their arrival, Donavan had not been hesitant about carrying his wife. His hand had barely left her small waist, carrying her everywhere like a protective gentleman. It tingled when his hand tightened around her waist and she found it strange, strange how he wanted to show her off as if she was desirable, as if she would run away if he didn't hold on. Tara believed it was either because he didnt trust her or was playing with her mind. She hoped it was latter. She could never afford to lose his trust. Never.
Straight out of the airport they were ushered into another vehicle, taking them into one of frantino mansions scattered around the globe. She was never amazed by how gigantic and out of the world every piece of architecture frantinos owned. As long as it was bought on the price of drug trafficking, slave markets and blood, she loathed it. But again, who was she kidding, her father was no different. After spending her whole life under the roof that slashed through countless throats, she had become numb, to the gore truth of her own life, accepting that she herself was product of ruthless crime, and without it she wouldn't exist.
His parents served him importance, greeting him on his arrival as if he was guest in their home, not their own son. Only for the reasons his hand held on to her waist, her presence was acknowledged too, seriously noticed rather. For all that his parents knew, alliance with Indians could never have gotten better, not only did they made into Indian market they found a woman Donavan truly thought worthy of keeping his hand on. He wasn't the don who showed protectiveness for a woman, it was nothing but a sign of weakness but if he was, the woman was important to him and she was to to be treated with respect.
When a servant came to pour wine in her empty glass, she politely declined. She never did nor ever wanted to try alcohol. She was certain if she ever started drinking, she'd never go back, it would become her everything. Her life was filled with things that begged her to become alcoholic, and that is exactly why she denied it. Donavan gave an appreciative look her way, finding pride in a wife who didn't drink.
She was made to sit next to him, women watched her curiously, finding her inappropriate as their Donna and honestly Tara didn't disagree. Donavan could have done better, way better than she could imagine. But nonetheless he had made it to her. Her low self esteem peeked in her mind like it always did, elbowing her confidence. She was jerked out of her trance by his hand on her thigh. She looked up to him, half expecting him to be watching her too.
He didn't give her a glance, continuing with his discussion with family. If it wasn't for his hand whose thumb caressed back and forth on her skin, she wouldn't have believed at the back of his mind he wanted to do things with her. She sat uncomfortably on the chair, waiting for this lunch to get over soon as possible.
She couldn't deny but sometimes she regretted not understanding Italian. At the moments like these she wished at least listening up on their conversations would help her pass time. All that she understood was, Dominic had a lot to say in the matter of discussion, everyone listened to him, even Donavan but the topic would always end with Donavan's comment. Typical.
When everyone tapped their mouths concluding their lunch, Donavan stood, as did everyone. He quickly mumbled something in Italian getting a "si" from all the women. Like in a hurdle of animals they all made their way out the dining room. Tara regretted not learning Italian now.
Where am I supposed to go?
After saying something to the servant Donavan too left the room with other men, not giving her a second look. She stood their flabbergasted, with no idea what to do next. Not knowing where to go or what to do she started to leave the room, deciding to explore the mansion herself.
"Madam" a gentle manly voice called out.
"Sir told me to show you to your room, please this way"
She sensed the English hint to his Italian accent and it was never amusing. Italians who spoke English always sounded authoritative, someone to not cross paths with.
She quietly followed behind him seeing him approach the lift to travel to higher levels. Before the lift could open another familiar voice ordered from behind. She turned her head only to have her heart in her throat.
Dominic stood tall with a poker face, saying something in italian to the young servant. She was sure whatever he said wasnt good because the next thing servant said was sorry before leaving. Tara watched with wide eyes as the head bent servant made his way away from them. The lift opened with the ping, both pulling her out of trauma and drowing her in all the same. Everything was happening too fast. She didnt feel safe with dominic at all. Before she could call out for the servant again, she was genly pushed inside the lift. She trembled as he got inside with her. As she tried to squeeze her way out the lift he had aldready closed it with a button. He watched her closely, blindly pushing the button to the third floor. She felt short of breathe as he stood a little too close while her back was pressed against the wall. She couldnt say a word, as much as she tried to, her throat had given away. She just watched as he walked closer, lessening the distance. She wished for wall to open up and engulf her inside but as strongly as she pushed her back to the wall it only hurt more. When the lift was not even two floors up he pushed the emergency button, bringing the lift to an abrupt stop. Her breathe hitched at the screeching of elevator engine, making her legs tremble.
He closed the distance even more, casually resting his hand on one side of her body, caging her in. She watched in horror as his other hand unbuttoned his suit jacket watching her lips quiver like a leaf. Her eyes immediately watered at the scene. Of all the things that had went wrong, this was the farthest wrongness could go.
He indeed had made a move. She was stupid to think her husband's cousin wouldn't be brave enough to go against the don. But he had. Nothing mattered anymore. Thick blobs of tears started falling down her eyes, her voice still stuck somewhere down her throat.
"Shhh shhhh, I am not going to rape you" he tried to coo her nearing his hand to wipe her tears, enjoying her being under his mercy for once. She flinched, stopping his hand from touching her face.
The mention of rape alone made her cry. He was of course lying. Even though her voice was still not ready to come out, her hands decided to speak for themselves. They pushed on his chest trying to keep distance between them. He tsked at her futile attempts, watching her weep even harder. His face morphed into a wide spread grin.
"You can skip your drama. I know this is a fascade"
She continued hiccuping, not hearing the word that fell out of his mouth when her own heart beat so loud.
"You might not know but when you came into frantino mansion, your stuff was under my scrutiny"
Her weeping didnt stop, she couldnt care less about what he had to say.
"...and I saw a bottle of pills" he made a gesture with his palm to assume the shape of bottle.
And that caught her attention. Her tears stopped, not letting her pulse slow down.
Is he talking about...my...birth control...no...he can't
His smile widened when he noticed how her weeping halted, intently listening to know what he had found out.
" but then its label said painkillers...something that I am familiar with"
Ofcourse she had put the label of painkillers on her bottle of contraceptive tablets. She wasn't stupid to allow the original label to stay on the same bottle. She became aware of the sweat trickling on her forehead with every slipping information that he unpacked for her. She listened in dread to know where he was going with this,
"Just out of curiosity I opened the bottle. But the pills inside...they didn't look like any painkiller I've ever had" he watched her growing uncomfortable, more at what he knew than what he was about to ask her to do.
"So I sent one of them to one of our trusted labs, just to be sure and guess what?" He kept his palm on the other side of her head, completely imprisoning her with his body, dwarfing her with his both arrogance and intentions. With inches apart from her face he whispered, "They aren't painkillers. They are the pills you are eating behind Don's back so you could fuck him without getting pregnant"
Silence settled in the small compartment of an elevator, declaring that the graveness had entered its realm.
"What do you want?" She whispered, finding her voice. She knew he wanted something from her. He could have already ruined her life if he wanted to, but he hadn't, and he hadn't for a strong reason. And just like a nightmare that got worse with dawn, he said what she so heartily wished he wouldn't.
"You"
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Author's note: aahh...I'll update next when we hit 6k reads