Stuck | 18+

Chapter 41

After three days of spending time in his office she started bringing her own stuff. Ploping her laptop in front, she worked as he screamed into phones and god knows what muttered to his goons. She realised, inside the four walls of office he was extremely workaholic. She hardly ever saw him relaxed and chatting with his people. He would be either clenching his teeth because someone didn't follow his order or carry his stoic face around the table where he worked for hours.

This was probably the only time where she truly got to see how he worked. Italians bustled in his office and listened to him as if he read Bible. She was sure probably they all took his words on their hearts too, listening and following intently.

She liked seeing people blabbering in foreign language, probably discussing crime and planning it. Although what she didn't like was one particular man that had ever so tauntingly drilled fear in her heart.

She'd see Dominic, under the secure protection of her husband or not, she'd still have to come across him. He would mostly mind his business although that would never help her rising pulse at all.

She'd observe him from her own bubble, watching his movements carefully, hoping to catch any sign of confirmation that he indeed was the one who had touched her that night. But he was way better at what he chose to be.

He would ignore her in Don's presence as if she didn't exist in the room but in the seconds of horrifying privacy, their eyes would meet, making the promises he yet hadnt fulfilled. And in those unholy seconds she'd tremble, needing no evidence to prove that he was the one. She'd avoid his sight altogether upon his entrance. Her rapid pulse would remain as the only sign of his presence.

At first, italianss' of their eyes would raise seeing their donna in a room where business was discussed, but they found soon found peace with it as the sight of her became common.

She learnt to maintain her cool even when the office would be stretched with tension. She would act as if nothing out of place was happening when on the backdrop he would be delivering the assassination threats. She grew normal faster. Her adaptation skills sometimes frightened her but she knew the environment where she was born and brought up in, they were always useful. And so she found her comfort in the dark claustrophobic room.

Today it had been mostly quiet, just her and him. After cracking her knuckles that hurt from typing, she looked up from her screen. She felt the burn in her eyes too.

How much time was I on screen again?

She wondered. When her eyes found the clock she was taken aback.
Three hours??
Even in her late realizations she wasn't the one who was late. She watched her husband still swamped in papers, scribbling something aggressively. He lost track of time way too many times than her.
She stood up from the cushiony sofa, realizing her muscles were stiff as rocks. Hearing her bones crack, Donavan's gaze followed her in a second, speculating what she was doing.
"I'll...go to the kitchen...have a little walk" she did the courtesy to tell as she always did before giving a visit to the kitchen and her favorite garden at the back.
Confirming that he gave a short nod before burying himself in papers again, she left. Walking slowly at first to make her stiff muscles relax after hours of sitting in a single position.

He wasn't relieved one bit for a week. The situations were getting worst. Convincing Auclairs were harder especially when the fucking snitch wouldn't leave a clue of his existence. He struggled to keep track of all of his businesses at once and take care of Auclairs like childish toddlers. His frustration was testing his patience. As much as tense he would work throughout the day, the relaxed he would become at night.

With her everything felt at ease. Even her silent presence in his office was relieving. Atleast he didn't have to worry about her anymore. He had thought about assigning her bodyguards instead of bringing her to his office everyday. But between her away and her close, he couldn't choose the option the prior. He had become selfish with his intentions, and with passing time he realised his control over emotions that he had so much secured for her steadily slipped out of his hand like a smooth fabric.

His increasing obsession over the little things she did stuck through him. The ending curl of her braid, the gentle tuck of her strand, the movement of her fingers when they'd sratch her forehead, the tap of her index finger on the screen, her soft smile, everything.

Nothing that she did went unnoticed from his eyes. There was something about her, in her. He wondered whether she shared the growing feelings he felt for her, whether she felt complete in his presence like he did in hers.

He looked at the clock, realizing it had been thirty minutes since she had walked out the door. He already found the sofa she sat on unattractive when she wasnt in it. It dwelled sullen and desolate, just like everything around him.

Resting back on his chair, bending it backwards he tried to remember his life before her. It wasn't surprising he couldn't, as if never had his life existed without her being a part of it, without her watching it from her cozy sofa in the corner.

He shook his head, astonished at how much time his mind was willing to spend thinking about her. Getting back on his agenda, he squinted when he felt the vibration of his cell. It wasn't the ring of his phone that made his eyebrows meet in a suspicion but the caller who he had anything expected but.

Tara
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Last chapter's comments were so beautiful. I was almost about to cry. Love you all so much.