Chapter 43

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Dedicated to Symspo who had been commenting in hilarious gifs and her excitement to get next update is staggering.
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She watched from the slit of fabrics, remaining concealed behind the curtains as frantino mansion inundated with familiar faces she had seen at their wedding. It was obvious there was a havoc outside in the mafia world.

The repercussions of Don killing his own brother were imminent. She could feel the heat of inferno his death had inflicted upon frantinos. Sadist or not Dominic was an important member of the family. His dangerous ways had accomplished hard jobs the simple way. His hands reached inside politics as deep as ones could reach. No one had had imagined the demise of such a strong man by the don himself. His desires to accede to donship rotted in his grave dug far away from where the respected frantinos laid buried. With his death ended everything, his ambitions, his dreams, and the very secrets that carried him to his grave.

Just as expected, the reverberations followed the wrath of his family, interrogations from Auclairs and the rage. The very rage that still pulsed inside Donavan's veins. He regretted killing Dominic too soon, liberating him from his sins in a painless death.
Now that he thought about it, there were several torturous ways to reach the same end.
He had little idea about Dominic being behind Tara, but he had never imagined him to be this stupid. Putting his dirty hands on her while don was still under the same roof. It was a careless act he knew, dominic would never do and yet everything laid on the table for everyone's eyes to see.

Even when Dominic had shown his true colours too soon, Dominic as he knew was a smart guy, with inborn intelligence and twisted mind. Donavan would have never thought the devil would get caught so easily.

But then why did he?

Something pricked Donavan's mind. His instincts immediately looking for the key information that seemed to be missing. Something must be alarmingly wrong with dominic to have acted so impetuously. But then again, the image of him choking Tara against the wall flashed in front of his eyes. It was all it took for his anger to take over again. Everything was painfully clear.

Even when he had ended Tara's misery in a matter of seconds she was still shaken. Having never been into death and life situations, when she watched Dominic's life disappear in a moment, she felt delirious, lost, numb.

She hadn't said anything in a week, probably because she had no words to share, just a scream, loud enough to reach the God who had put her in the cruel world. She'd watch people from her window, knowing very well the purpose of their visit. Knowing how they came to convey their condolences for the dead abuser than telling their don he did the right thing.
When there would be enough peeking out, she'd lie down on the bed, staring at nothing in particular, revisiting the dark afternoon again and again, finding herself under the gaze of his lifeless eyes.

Donavan watched the soft rain from his office window. His rage still burnt with vengeance, revisiting the scene seven days ago, killing dominic again and again, more painfully each time. His fists tightened at the thought.
It's over, it's fucking over...
He told himself calming his nerves, coming back to his desk that still waited with piles of unfinished work. He ploped down on his chair immersing himself now that Dominic situation had started to flare on low flame.
He heard an unsure knock on the door, obscuring its feminity.
After a quick 'come in' from him she hesitantly peeked through the heavy door, looking around to ensure she wasn't disturbing him. She looked disheveled, her hair unmade. Her sleeplessness crawled down her eyes to morph into dark circles around her orbs, somehow still adoring her.

He was nothing less than taken aback by her voluntarily taking a step towards him. After that afternoon she hadn't as much as looked at him, avoiding his gaze at all costs. And unlike his usual self he had put up with that, not forcing her to talk while he did the question answer rounds with limitless people who couldn't mind their own business.

His mouth slightly parted, shocked at her bold move as she walked in. Her collar bone peeked out of her neck, highlighting her thin stature that had become thinner this week. Without beating around the bush she made her way to him, taking calculated steps, her plan of action already rolling. When she stood right in front of him, he still felt perplexed, having no clue of her odd behavior and before he could predict her next move, she was on him, climbing on his chair, making herself comfortable in his lap.
He didn't know what to do.

Her head rested on his chest, her eyes closed, trying to sleep where she once thought she would never find peace. His taut muscles calmed after minutes when she didn't move, not granting any kind of explanation. Not that he wanted to complain. He had loathed their distance, now that she closed it, he realised how early he should have done this.

Not knowing what else to do, he rested his head back too, relaxing in his housefull chair. His arm casually slung around her waist, making sure she didn't slip out.

"Is the family mad at you?"
She mumbled.
He could bearly hear her meek voice deprived of all strength.
"Yes" he replied.
He didn't know exactly why but he felt the need of conveying her more than she needed to know,
"We found a pendrive on him"
She remained silent, not understanding why it was relevant until she heard his next words.
"It had contact details with Auclairs."
Her head swung up in his direction, wondering what did this mean.
"Wha...what?"
"He was the informer, he set us up."

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