"When?"
His eyes watched her keenly, growing suspicious of her claim.
Tara gulped. Trembling, she tightly held on to the table at her back, supporting her weight as the cold truth splashed her all at once.
It was Dominic. For God's sake it was Dominic.
She repented her mind for remembering the brush of his nose as it touched her skin, the swirl of his tongue as it licked her breast. A gush of bile rose in her throat. The sheer hatred she felt for herself for not being able to recognize the obvious ill-intentioned man quickly became the ache in her head, twitching painfully. Her legs wildly shook of terror, she grabbed her head in both of her hands, squeezing it to minimize the pain. As she started skidding down out of consciousness, she felt the arms that wrapped around her, picking her up and resting on bed.
Just before she lost the contact with consciousness she felt the worried tap on her cheek calling out her name. She realized in what great danger she could have been if she was energetic enough to be conscious, so just before she slipped into darkness she reminded herself to be grateful, thanking her body for giving up instead of making her confront the terrible situation.
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She woke up to seeing an elderly white woman in her fourtees, making an inspection of her wrist, probably checking her pulse. The stethoscope that hung in her neck was self explanatory for her purpose in their room. Tara tried to sit up, not yet relieved from her headache she hissed when her head throbbed again.
"Lie down no need to sit" the woman spoke in her French accent, gently pushing her back to bed. Tara didn't resist, relaxing her muscles. The memories of Dominic's actions still faintly replayed, making her feel nauseated again. She couldn't believe she had let that happen, that he was allowed to touch her without battling against her resistance.
What if I wasn't on periods?
The mere thought made her bolt upright.
What if i had never figured out that he wasn't Donavan?
What if he hadn't stopped after knowing I was on periods?
She clutched her head as it intensely throbbed with the pressure.
"Tara" Donavan's voice brought her out of her turmoil. He stood at the edge of bed, looking close to concerned at the state of his wife. She realized how it was the first time after their vows that he had spelled her name. She found it strangely surprising that he at all remembered her name even though it was the bare minimum he owed.
"Lay down and don't think" he more or less ordered, making her hesitantly comply.
Doctor finally done with her inspection, stood up from her place. Coiling her stethoscope in her hands, she glanced at Tara who curiously stared back, worried at what's doctor's opinion might be.
"You said she's on periods?"
"Yes" Donavan immediately replied.
" that might be it" she mumbled.
"Are you having any severe symptoms sweetheart?" The lady asked, "as in cramps, headaches, vomity feeling?"
" yeah" Tara replied, wanting to blame her innocent periods for her emotional turmoil.
"It's okay" doctor said, "she just needs rest, I'll prescribe some meds nothing serious"
Having said that, she scribbled some letters in her incomprehensible handwriting and handed it to the servant waiting at the door, who ever so elegantly escorted her out.
Donavan's eyes never wavered from her, he noticed her relaxing shoulders as soon as the doctor left. Her eyes though never stopped their chaotic battle, something still churned in her head restlessly. His gaze became sharper as she sighed, as if saved from a disaster but as soon as their eyes met he caught the lie.
He wasn't a fool to believe she had passed out because of her health just when he asked that question. He had seen her visibly shaking, shocked at his question, clutching for the support trembling at whatever she was frightened of, as if he asked something forbidden, something that made her reminisce the unthinkably horrifying incident.
His gaze hardened, watching her with more anger than worry.
There was no doubt he hadn't bought the doctor's lie. His eyes did the talking just well. He wanted answers and he wanted them now. Tara felt a pang of sadness that she couldn't act well. Her attempt of hiding the truth had miserably crumbled back to dust.
There's no other way than the truth.
She decided to spill the beans before he forced them out of her. It was always better to surrender as if she had nothing to hide in the first place.
"I...I want to..te...tell you something" she fiddled with her fingers, not finding enough courage to look in his eyes.
Resting her back to the headboard, she decided it was the time, the time to get this over with.
"Ofcourse you do" he spitted, realizing his temperature grew every second. It was better she admitted it before he made her. For Jesus if she had tried lying again he couldn't imagine the sort of wrath she would have suffered.
Before she could utter a word, dominic barged through the doors, looking straight for his don. Tara flinched at the sight of him, pushing herself back into headboard. Without so much as giving Tara an eye Dominic blabbered in his fluent Italian saying something he really needed to speak fast.
Donavan's gaze turned from furious to serious. He listened to Dominic for a moment before interrupting him with his question. Their back and forth conversation as much as aggressive seemed urgent. Dominic quickly left after Donavan's last order. As if she didn't even exist in the room he turned his back and walked straight.
For a second she wondered if it was really him or just a bad dream, but her memories were too vivid to be from dream.
Donavan's gaze followed her back, this time seeming less intense than before, as if important matters were on the horizon, more important than her lies. Giving her a final threatening glance, he started to leave but not before warning,
"This isn't over"
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Donavan didn't return for four days, nor did dominic. Apparently they really had faced something unexpected.
The French dealers had suddenly turned their back, blaming frantinos for setting them up in some way. Millions of dollars were at stake for their drug deal and yet everything laid in abeyance owing to French mafia's baseless suspicions.
It seemed that their stay in Paris was likely to be extended.
Tara made herself swamped in her work. Pulling extra articles on herself she made sure to block out her emotions as they reached out to her, ignoring them as much as she could. Everything was going down the drain anyways. He was about to find out about the truth and soon enough he would snatch the privilege she called work away. She tried to live her last days at work for as long as she could.
Since she wasn't allowed to leave the mansion she found other things to engage herself in.
On her usual stroll through the mansion she noticed how the garden at the back of the kitchen had a beautiful pattern of flowering plants. But the more she watched them sway with the breeze she realized they could be even more elegant if planted in the order of their colours. And so she found herself there, Digging plants out of their original place and planting them in the place where they'd contrast surrounding flowers. She found it astonishing what a stupid nature of cravings she methodically nurtured and called them hobbies.
When she would think she needed a little stretch from her overworking, she would simply stand up and walk down to the garden. Never minding gloves that separated her skin from the damp chilly texture of soil, she ignored the gazes of family members and servants as they passed by. Focusing on digging the plant out and burying its roots back again.
After two days of her gardening adventure she thought she had now unlocked a new hobby. And on such an cloudy evening in the garden she had seen him again, leaning on the doorframe, watching her with all his soul. She felt the soft drizzle of rain spraying over, dampening the already wet soil.
After stealing a gaze from him, her eyes looked at herself, evaluating her posture that now became drenched with increasing rain, her white sundress already adored with patches of brown soil. With growing pattering of raindrops on the fleshy leaves and concrete walls she realized that like a normal woman she should get up and run inside home but again, a soft flowery herb was still waiting to be planted inside its alloted site. So she breathed in the heavy rain, pretending to not notice his piercing gaze, and continued her activity. Skillfully carrying the plant and placing it inside the already dug hole, covering its roots with more soil, acclimitizing it to its new home.
He watched mesmerizingly as she continued her task with her hands covered in soil, being as gentle as she could in the rain that became stormy every second. Her determination didn't shake, there was a thin chance for the little samplings to even survive such heavy wind and wild patter but that didn't stop her from doing her role.
She looked like an angel minding her business, spreading all her gentleness everywhere she went and that didn't help his lust at all.
From the stressful situations he had endured past days he had not expected to come back to such a peaceful site, it made him forget everything he had been exhausted for. The lies he knew she was holding back were long forgotten. His demons crawled his heart to do something sinful, to fuck her senseless right in the garden. After the hardwork he had pulled on these days, he felt worthy of ravishing her now. She was the dessert he waited all along his meal and now that she sat, in all her raw glory, he couldn't wait to seize her.
He hadn't realized when he walked in the garden.
She watched as he rolled the sleeves of his stark white shirt, his suit jacket somewhere lost. Not caring how the damp soil dirtied his expensive boots, or how the rain damaged his everyday watch, he stalked to her slowly in determination, watching her and her only.
She gulped as he made his way inside her small heaven, immediately making it feel small with his presence.
She could all but gasp when he briskly picked her up in his arms, her weight nothing but a feather for him. And instead of carrying her inside he savored that moment then and there, in his arms she struggled to keep her eyes open in heavy rains, but she felt his breathe even in the heavy rains that lingered just above her lips, ready to meet hers any time. In bridal style she had no choice but hold onto him, onto his whiteness that now bore her dirt. Her heart clenched as she noticed how she made him dirty with herself but he couldn't find himself to care when his true prize for all his dangerous achievements was here, right in his arms.
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Author's note: this was supposed to be two chapters but since you're showering me in so much love I thought why not make it one. Also tell me what's your favorite chapter? Tell me. Tell me right now.