Stuck | 18+

Chapter 30

Her eyelids flickered for seconds, reminiscing everything of previous night.

The images of his last night's doings replayed like vicious memories. His ways of exploiting her nakedness while she watched was what she knew was only the beginning. He had far reaching objectives ready in his closet. Not that she wanted to find them out, but there was no other way. Faking him affection was the pill she couldn't risk vomiting. At the very moment she reminisced Dominic's shameless demand.

"What do you want?" She had asked.

"You"

His voice still echoed in her mind as if he just whispered it in her senses. She trembled at the memory, unconsciously clinging to Donavan. Imagining if the mere memory could make her this nauseated, what the actual circumstance would do.

There was no way Dominic was off her back just yet and she couldn't keep Donavan near her everyday. A day without her husband was all Dominic needed to exploit her weaknesses and she knew she wasn't in a position of denial. Dominic knew secrets far worse.

And to keep him quiet I'd have to....

She felt disgusted at the thought. No matter how deeper she had dug her own grave, sleeping with her husband's brother was the last thing she wanted to do. Her self respect had been butchered methodically by her husband already. Pretending to not hate him was enough torture to fall in the hands on another man in the family.

Sighing she realized, there was nothing that could be done as of now. Except ofcourse, Donavan was her sole salvation, the abuser she kept running from. Gaining his trust, clinging to him and standing by his side was all that could be tried to shush Dominic for a while. But only for a while. It was eminent Dominic wasn't no fool to wait around for a long time. He wouldn't walk on thin ice all his life. The harder she thought, her headache worsened, bringing nothing useful to the table. She pushed the wrenching thoughts back, churning through all the ways to keep Donavan close. Internally she knew she didn't had to do anything. The smallest twitch of her muscle was enough to have him under her feet, all she had to do was not defy. Although she realised it was difficult to while she was still sane.

Awoke fully from her nightmares she realized she was face to face with a chest, massive, chiseled and strong. Her hands were made disarmed and useless in his embrace. She probably looked invisible from the way he covered her with his body. As her head fully rested on his bicep, her waist was held close by his other hand, blocking her vision from seeing anything else but him.

She slightly wiggled from her position, testing if he'd loose his hold to let her slip off him. Quite the opposite, he unconsciously wrapped her tightly, securing her against him. She sighed, almost giving up. After fifteen minutes of struggling she managed to wiggle out of his hold without waking him up.

Tired to wear anything else she slung his discarded white button up shirt on her body, standing up. It was hard to not notice how the room was full of silvery reflections from the hung mirrors all over the suite. Apart from two massive mirrors flanking the bed and the one on the ceiling, every furniture of the room was as if not made without mirrors. From the hung paintings, wall hangings to pieces of decor scattered in a pattern around the room, it was evident that wherever you stand in a room, one would know what's happening in every corner of it. She didn't wonder why it was Don's suite, it was absolutely magnificent with the most outwardly view of eiffel tower. From where she stood she could see her reflection tens of mirror at a time. For someone as insecure as her, she realized she was a mess, she was always a mess.

Uncombed hair, rough lips, and a husbands shirt that reached the middle of thighs wasn't exactly how elegant Italian women were supposed to be. Being a conservative, uninteresting and utterly non desirable woman wasn't exactly her plan and yet she was a successful Donna, successful in that her husband carried her with him, and commanded everyone to bow in her presence. That's the highest level of respect a husband could gift his wife.