Stuck | 18+

Chapter 25

A/N:  Dedicated to ayraalove18
She has been an absolute sweet heart straight from my first chapter...and I've been stupidly forgetting giving credit to her for motivating me into keep writing. Chapter 25 is for you ayraa.

You matter. Each one of you matter.
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Steel spoons and glass dishes cranked in the Italian murmurs. Servants ushered quietly around the dining, filling the already flowing plates with scrumptious dishes. Apart from sloshing of colored liquid in red wine glasses, suppressed chuckles of gossiping women and, sincere discussion among men, nothing seemed important in the room. Tara couldn't help but not care. Not that she still didn't understand Italian, she didn't want to. It was way better to not know things. The language barrier certainly was a blessing. She was never expected to take part in conversations. She couldn't be more glad for being excluded from their family chit chats. But as much as she wanted to, Donavan didn't leave her alone.

Ever since their arrival, Donavan had not been hesitant about carrying his wife. His hand had barely left her small waist, carrying her everywhere like a protective gentleman. It tingled when his hand tightened around her waist and she found it strange, strange how he wanted to show her off as if she was desirable, as if she would run away if he didn't hold on. Tara believed it was either because he didnt trust her or was playing with her mind. She hoped it was latter. She could never afford to lose his trust. Never.

Straight out of the airport they were ushered into another vehicle, taking them into one of frantino mansions scattered around the globe. She was never amazed by how gigantic and out of the world every piece of architecture frantinos owned. As long as it was bought on the price of drug trafficking, slave markets and blood, she loathed it. But again, who was she kidding, her father was no different. After spending her whole life under the roof that slashed through countless throats, she had become numb, to the gore truth of her own life, accepting that she herself was product of ruthless crime, and without it she wouldn't exist.

His parents served him importance, greeting him on his arrival as if he was  guest in their home, not their own son. Only for the reasons his hand held on to her waist, her presence was acknowledged too, seriously noticed rather. For all that his parents knew, alliance with Indians could never have gotten better, not only did they made into Indian market they found a woman Donavan truly thought worthy of keeping his hand on. He wasn't the don who showed protectiveness for a woman, it was nothing but a sign of weakness but if he was, the woman was important to him and she was to to be treated with respect.

When a servant came to pour wine in her empty glass, she politely declined. She never did nor ever wanted to try alcohol. She was certain if she ever started drinking, she'd never go back, it would become her everything. Her life was filled with things that begged her to become alcoholic, and that is exactly why she denied it. Donavan gave an appreciative look her way, finding pride in a wife who didn't drink.

She was made to sit next to him, women watched her curiously, finding her inappropriate as their Donna and honestly Tara didn't disagree. Donavan could have done better, way better than she could imagine. But nonetheless he had made it to her. Her low self esteem peeked in her mind like it always did, elbowing her confidence. She was jerked out of her trance by his hand on her thigh. She looked up to him, half expecting him to be watching her too.

He didn't give her a glance, continuing with his discussion with family. If it wasn't for his hand whose thumb caressed back and forth on her skin, she wouldn't have believed at the back of his mind he wanted to do things with her. She sat uncomfortably on the chair, waiting for this lunch to get over soon as possible.

She couldn't deny but sometimes she regretted not understanding Italian. At the moments like these she wished at least listening up on their conversations would help her pass time. All that she understood was, Dominic had a lot to say in the matter of discussion, everyone listened to him, even Donavan but the topic would always end with Donavan's comment. Typical.