Chapter Twenty

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Dorian's POV

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Dorian's POV

Waking up to someone next to me wasn't a new feeling. But, waking up next to Alena... I decided I wanted that for the rest of my life.

The first time I had woken up beside her in her apartment, I decided I wanted that feeling.

I looked down at her sleeping face, watching her breathe slowly. After last night's interruption from Alek, I found Alena sleeping on the side of the bed, that was usually empty. She was still in the clothes she had worn earlier that evening. As I pulled the covers on top of her, I stroked her soft dark hair before succumbing to the slumber.

I wasn't the type of guy to stroke a girl's hair. But for her, I would want to comfort her and give her everything, just to make all the wrongs right.

This morning, I watched her as she slept.

I never really got art. But I knew if something was beautiful and made you wonder, you would remember it for a lifetime.

To me, she made me wonder. She made me think of all the wrongs. She was what I wanted to remember my entire life.

Did I look like a creep watching her?

Maybe?

Did I care?

No.

Every time I saw her, I wondered how she went through that night. I thought about the trauma she went through. I questioned how Rhys could do something like that to her. I was more than glad that a sick, twisted bastard like him was now six feet underground.

As Alena slowly stirred in her sleep, turning away from me, I slid my arms around her waist and kissed the side of her head.

"Good morning," I whispered in her ear.

"Just let me sleep for five more minutes," she murmured.

I smiled at her plea.

"I thought you were a morning person?" I teased.

"When I have to work, I am!" she said, turning to me with a pout.

Looking down at those brown eyes, I remembered the first time I saw her. The sorrow in her eyes. Her want to escape that party. But now she looked happier and full of life. She wanted the new and nothing from her past. Only the things that mattered.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"You," I murmured. She looked up at me with her lips slightly parted.

"What about me?" She asked in a whisper.

If I wanted to tell her about what happened in London and what I knew, this was not the perfect time. In all honesty, I didn't know if I would ever tell her. I carried on as if I knew nothing.

"How I want to wake up next to you every morning," I ended up telling her. It was the truth. I wanted something like this. I didn't want to be known as a playboy billionaire anymore. I was sick and tired of that. I wanted to be treated like a human being. Someone who was respected.

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