Donavan was thunderstruck. He had nothing to say, nothing to add on to when the little girl warily walked, keeping distance from him to reach her mother. He couldn't take his eyes off her. The more he watched her, the more he realised how much of a reflection of him was she, from her eyes, to hair, to skin, to face, to everything. He needed no DNA test to confirm she was his blood, his assumed dead child.When the toddler finally reached close enough to Tara, she hid behind her knees, slowly peeking out to the stranger. And when she found his eyes still glued on her, she hid again.And even in that searing moment, the sweet act made him smile, in pain, in joy. He could not believe it, nor could he pay attention to someone else watching him alarmingly."Why did you tell us to go away?"A woman's voice brought him back to reality and his gaze finally moved to a woman of Tara's age, probably the caretaker, standing next to him, asking Tara in concern.After taking care of the daughter o
Leaning near he ear he allowed himself to smell her hair before whispering,"I am hungry"Both of his hands caged her by putting themselves against the wall. She felt claustrophobic by his closeness, but more vividly she felt flabbergasted by the absence of questions. She was sure he had a lot to ask, a lot to extract. But why he kept his silence, was a secret.And perhaps it wasn't that indecipherable mystery too, perhaps he was content with whatever he knew so far, whatever he had found out so far. And so he decided to delay the interrogation, something that he knew would surely break her down once again.She took a sharp inhale when his nose traced the skin beneathe her ear, nibbling it softly."I am not your cook" she breathed."And I am not a kind man"Her eyes widened when she felt a metallic blunt end poking her stomach. She didn't had to see it to know that he had taken out to his gun, as if already sensing the resistance.He distanced his face from her neck, observing her eye
Her whine muffled behind his strong grip as she felt his hand tracing the hem of her panty before pushing his hand in, touching her pussy without a barricade, moving around her clit like a gentle threat. She held his wrist tightening her hold, unintentionally portraying the intense effect of his fingers on her stack of nerves. If anything she should have kicked him harder, but as her heart melted like an ice cream under his excruciating warmth, she didn't. "I want you" she heard him breathing in her hair, losing the thread of his patience when he felt her wetness exuding on his fingers. She didn't realise when they fit into each other like a pieces of puzzle, her body spooned in his, perfectly aligning their needs as if their bodies spoke a language beyond their minds' understanding. Her uneven breaths ceased when he whispered, still caressing her sensitive flesh with utmost gentleness,"But not here" He had removed his hand from her mouth, allowing her the needful space to roam
"Mamaa....." Inaya ran in Tara's direction, hugging her knees like a classic toddler, glad that her mother had woken up after unusually long sleep.She had tried to shake Tara out of sleep numerous time before, on the verge of tears that she was unresponsive. But her father had assured her, saying that she was just tired and in need of rest. And so she trusted him, giving Tara peaceful hours of slumber, sliding her favourite stuffed shark toy in her arms for a good sleep while her newly acclaimed father entertained her thoroughly. It was wonderful the way Ina found him, cheerful, and handsome. When she looked in his eyes, it was as if she looked back at herself. How could she not believe every word her own reflection said?As much as one might have expected Ina had nearly no questions of his absence for so long. She found comfort in the fact that she had a father, and he was here, with her. He was amiable and loved her. And that was all that mattered. It was enough for the little girl
She had a gun, and he had a breathe.His body lied on the ground, smeared with the dust wetted by his sweat. In the state that she had put him into, he looked far from living up to the promise of finding her again.He wouldn'tShe told herself.She had received vague orders. Killing him had political consequences far dangerous than his life. If he was to die from her hands, the whole system would be dug from the underground, destroying her organization before finishing her too. And so instead of ending both of their lives, they decided to end no one's.She hid the fact that this diplomatic arrangement was merely an excuse for her to let him live, that without its existence too she'd have spared his life, probably because he had showed a glimpse of human-ness at some point, a sign that he wasn't all monster and murderer, that whatever he was for the world, he wasn't towards her. Her sixteen year old self was more composed than she was now, and she blamed the man, the bane of her life,
Frantino mansion hadn't changed. It still dwelled far from the city, cherishing it's gothic privacy to remain protected from wandering gazes. As the car drove in the gates, Tara's heartbeats were touching the sky. She couldn't believe this was happening all over again. The last time she had come in the very premises she was welcomed, probably not heartily, but she was, fakely or not Italians had plastered a smile on their faces for their donna. If they were to bear her unwelcome intrusion today, she was sure to receive only hostility, hatred in all its nakedness. As much as she didn't want to care about them, somewhere deep, she was unimaginably scared of their reaction.She threw a wary glance towards him as he sat next to her, looking outside the window, Ina carelessly spread all over him as he supported her back, protecting her sleep from the bumpy ride. The scene was unnerving, she hated her daughter's speedily transforming demeanor towards him. Not only did it complicate her daug
Donavan tugged Ina in bed, pulling the covers over her little frame to keep her warm. Tara didn't say a word, quietly following, realising that the room she followed don into was a kid's bedroom, almost extensively designed for one. The walls were pink, teddy bears were scattered, and charts of alphabets hung all over the walls. Evidently the bed was small, made only for Inaya. It made her worry whether he planned on keeping Tara in another room far away but as he pointed to the room immediately next to Ina's she sighed, momentarily relaxed.Donavan felt oddly at unease as she kept unusually quiet, not offering him even a glace as she turned the door of her room open and before he could come in thud closed on his face, locking it from inside. The breeze of air hit his face at her action, making him tighten his jaw, but for the time being he took a sharp breath, calming his senses before leaving through hallway, already imagining the piling files waiting at his desk.Tara didn't waste
Everyday was the same. She would wake up, shower, check on Ina, make food, stay away from Don, read, sleep, repeat. Tara felt as if years had passed by in a month, locked in the practiced schedule like a robot. She would have grown crazy in the hellhole if she was alone, but she wasn't. And as much as Tara severely suffered to an extent of insanity, Inaya hadn't ever been this happy her entire tiny life. Ina had never been this pampered before. Someone would always sit by her side, tending to her needs, seeing if she ate well. She was a princess in the palace. Her king of a father would never let her wish meet the ground. Regardless how incessantly her mother would portray dislike towards papa's lovable coddling, he'd never pay a heed. Donavan continued to rule Ina's heart with chocolates and food and toys. He wouldn't be able stay with her all day, but whenever he could press his schedule in, he would find himself outside her door, for five minutes or not, he would show how much sh