Dreams were strange think of. They furtively dash through the dark hallways of your mind, gathering information that you wouldn't share with your closest friends only use it against you, to hurt you when you think you cannot be, in slumber. Sometimes you catch their lies, their raw nature of fantasy, and despite the choice of waking up, you sleep, crafting the story, designing the setting, consciously adding emotions you could never experience in real life. This time it was her home back in India where he had first made an unwelcome intrusion, keeping her on the edge of window before ruining her holiness. In her dreams he would still be the villain, twisted and arrogant, he'd bend her down to his wishes, whispering dirty things in her ear. And unlike she held onto her personality in real life, in fantasy she'd let a sly smile at his actions, pleased by his cocky masculinity, finding a strange pleasure in his diabolical ways. He kissed her, her head pressed into the cushion at his f
She hauled back into the headboard, clutching the covers more tightly to her chest, forcing air in her lungs as she felt her throat tightening around itself. He looked stoic, his walls impeccably concealing his emotions but she was caught off guard when she sniffed the anger out of air. And when she cared to look more keenly, the twitch in his jaw only confirmed it. His rage, like always, was unexplainable. And just like several times before, probably someone else had evoked it. It didn't matter nevertheless. It only took her existence around to make her the victim. She was sure even if she all but slightly breathed in his presence, he'd still direct his frustration towards her.He wanted to pin the woman down and ask her what she wanted. The more vividly he tried to understand her, the deeper the enigma she became. Why did she have to moan my name?He could never misinterpret her voice for something else, he was all too familiar with it. Her noise was a music he never forgot compo
She hadn't even began to sob fully when she heard a suppressed grunt, as if someone purposely tried to hide how much it hurt. She found her foot when she heard it again, looking at the door suspiciously before striding quickly in the direction, swinging the door open to witness a gruesome sight in front. Donavan didn't hold himself back before landing a brutal punch on Enzo's clueless face. Enzo had no idea what had he done to deserve the attack but neither did he saw it fit to ask at the moment. Donavan seemed to be in the trance of vehemence, something that could not be interrupted until he was satiated. Enzo had all but looked into Ina's room to find the little girl still drowned in slumber with no sight of his boss and so he didn't consider the possibility of Don being in Tara's room, thinking it was far from possible for both of them to breathe in each other's presence without pulling one another's body into shreds. But when he indeed had dared to ring his cell, Don had emerged
"Took you long enough" The attractive woman was spread across Tara's bed, releasing another puff of smoke in the already murky room. Tara watched nonplussed around the small room, struggling to see through the smoke, picking up the traces of her clothes lying on the floor, every piece of furniture misplaced. She immediately closed the door behind her, not wanting Ina to come in contact with nicotine if she happens to return any time soon. Walking up to to the window she opened the small doors, hoping for smoke to run out before someone died of suffocation. Venetia was surprised by Tara's composure, not paying any heed to the villain who had taken stringent efforts to make her life difficult. She couldn't but succumb to the throb of irritation, her hope of instigation meeting the ruins. "Get out" Tara finally uttered, already picking up her clothes, folding them neatly before putting them back in closet one by one. "I can say the same thing to you" Venetia acted unaffected, taking
"I kicked Venetia's ass yesterday"Enzo spewed the coffee contents like a fountain, blessing the lively grass with caffeine mixed with his saliva. Tara watched amusingly as he struggled to find a handkerchief in his pocket, rubbing it on his mouth to make it up for the mess."Who starts a conversation like that?" He groaned in disbelief, coughing the last remnant, blaming her horrible sentence starters."I didn't know you'd be this shocked" she let a smile play, continuing to walk by his side, savouring Enzo's embarrassing moment. Their evening walks were fairly common. He sought some time to himself alone in the garden with a stick in between his fingers. And that privilege was snatched when she joined him. It wasn't exactly inconvenient that his precious time was stolen by cigarette-less walks with her. "Why? And does Don know?" he asked eagerly, pushing the handkerchief back in his pocket. "She thinks we are sleeping together. and I don't know, may be he knows. I don't care" sh
It was past twelve in Italy. From distance every room's light seemed off, indicating most of the Frantinos were already dreaming. Except for the one window where yellow light conspicuously irradiated from, the mansion was dead silent."Aaah" Tara sighed with a hint of frustration, already tired of trying new dresses.Sia had been kind enough to buy new dresses for her mistress. Since she had nothing of her own, Sia made the choices for her, going to the mall herself and picking the sizes that might fit the woman back in the mansion. It wasn't exactly kindness that Sia showered since Don had generously filled her account solely to look up to Tara's needs. Nonetheless, Tara considered it as an act of altruism, admiring how the pretty maid never portrayed a glimpse of enmity like everyone around her, treating her mistress like mistress. Probably more, but never less.She didn't understand why Sia would bring something so glittery and short for her. The dress was knee length, complementin
Birthdays were never Tara's thing. She neither celebrated her own, nor had she ever indulged in her daughter's. There was nothing to be particularly remembered about that day, only that life had given her the most wonderful gift, that her battle with loneliness was finally over. Other than Inaya's first cry, her birthday had nothing else to be cherished by. Tara had cried too, in agony of pushing the head of her baby girl. Every cell of her body had remembered the very reason why she had disliked children from the very core, the pain they brought with their first breath in the world. She was alone, with a bunch of doctors immune to screams of women in labour, hardly entertaining her pleas to make it quick. After repeated attempts of failing to push the baby out, she had given up, resting her head back, looking at the ceiling hopelessly, hoping for Donavan to be besides her so she could relieve her frustration by landing a sharp slap on his cheek.She had no idea how gladly he would h
He hadn't felt this way in ages, the foreign emotion catching him defenceless. He wanted children for the sake of it, for them to bare his name and when he died, his position. They were the carriers of his heritage, his learnings, his property, nothing more, never more. But somehow Tara had pulled the untouchable strings, enlivening a part of him he didn't know exist. With her, he wanted a complete connubial package, of not heirs but babies, that she grew in her womb and he took care of, that she cooked for and he fed. When he put Ina to bed a sudden gush of gratefulness hit him in waves. He watched her features with love, realising how fortunate he must have been to be able to feel...this. He stroked her head, pushing the wild curls behind her head before pulling the sheets till her neck. He was still in the trance of her angelic visage, the humbling feeling drenching his heart when he pushed the button to first floor in the elevator. When it dinged open his brows furrowed at the se