Her Traumas
The next day
Mireille woke up to the rays of the sun shining on her face. She grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her palm.
“Haven’t had enough sleep?” She heard the familiar deep voice question and Mireille felt her heart skip a beat.
She took her hand off her face and looked at him. He was standing by the curtains, dressed and all ready for work, certainly.
Staring at him, Mireille felt the memories of the previous night flooding her brain. The alcohol in her system the previous night had given her enough courage to face him and do all she had done but now that she was sober, she could not find that courage anymore.
Mireille slowly looked away from him, pulling the sheets over her head. She could hear him approaching her, his steps sounding calculated.
As he got closer to her, Mireille felt her breath hitch and then he tugged at the sheets.
Mireille held onto the sheets tightly, not wanting to face him but her physical strength was not enough to go against him.
He pulled the sheets off her easily and Mireille shut her eyes tightly. She heard him sigh and then felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her to sit up on the bed.
“Open your eyes, Princess” he said in that compelling voice that she still could not resist.
Slowly, Mireille opened her eyes, meeting with his sharp and intense gaze.
“I would like to take all what happened last night as a drunken act but I know it was not. You want me…”
Mireille opened her mouth to speak but could not find the words to say so she pressed her lips together and glanced down at the sheets.
“And it’s okay for you to want someone but not me, Mireille” he finished his words and Mireille could swear that she felt her heart drop.
Why had he chosen to call her by her name suddenly?
“Why? Why can’t I?” Mireille asked, finding sudden boldness.
“Because it makes no sense for you to want me to have sex with you. James… James would rip me apart if I do something like that with you”
“This is not just about James. No, it is nothing about James” Mireille shook her head and Dante looked away from her, getting up onto his feet, his height towering.
“You should stop lusting after me now, Princess. I will be away for a few days to help you with that.”
Mireille’s eyes widened a bit and she wanted to protest against his movement but she found herself unable to say a word.
“Call me if you need anything and remember you can’t leave without , any guards. Goodbye, Princess” without waiting for a response from her, he turned and headed out of the room.
A look of frustration and disappointment appeared on Mireille’s face.
“I am such a loser!” She grumbled and threw a pillow across the room.
“Leave for weeks or months if you want to. I don’t need you around me anyways! I hate you!”
That Night
Dante stood in front of the window of his room, a glass of wine in his left hand and a lit cigarette in between his fingers in his right hand.
He took the cigarette to his lip and took a long drag from it before shifting his attention back to the view of the pool.
He was in another mansion where he would be staying for the next couple of days.
“Aargh” he groaned and walked away from the window, his composed look fading away into an exasperated look as he approached the bed and sat at the edge of it.
He dropped the glass of wine on the bedside table and ran his left hand through his hair, raking it back.
He felt tired and that was weird because he, Dante Romano never got tired.
Dante decided not to think about the reason he was feeling tired.
He took another drag from the cigarette before putting it out abd dropping the cigarette butt on a plate that was on the beside table.Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.
Dante reached for his buttons and unbuttoned it all the way but kept the shirt on him.
He leaned back, dropping onto the soft sheets and staring up at the ceiling.
Dante felt a gust of wind blow in through the open window and he groaned, getting up to his feet to shut the windows.
It suddenly looked like it was going to rain heavily soon. A rainy night was just the perfect night for Dante to sleep peacefully.
He shut the window and headed back to the bed but as soon as he placed one knee on the bed, he recalled Jame’s words.
Mireille was scared of heavy rains. Dante slowly licked his lips, contemplating on going back home to her or not.
“Maybe it will just be a light rain?”
But as if on cue, the rain started, very heavily.
“Oh shit!” Dante cursed and began to button up his shirt quickly.
He grabbed his car key and his phone and rushed out of the room. He hurried down the stairs that led into a beautiful living room whose beauty Dante sure was not patient enough to admire at the moment.
Dante ran out into the rain and almost immediately, one of his men came running towards him with an umbrella but Dante stopped him with a raise of his hands.
Dante rushed over to where his black car was parked and got into it, dripping wet from just few seconds of being in the rain.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dropped it onto the other seat. He ignited the car and drove out of the place at a dangerous speed.
With his left hand on the steering, he picked his phone up and dialed Mireille’s phone but she wasn’t picking up.
Dante groaned and stepped hard on the accelerator, increasing his speed. He had deliberately chosen to stay at a mansion miles away from his home because he wanted ‘enough’ distance between them and now he wished he had not done so.
How could he have been so unfortunate as to leave her the day it would be rainy? And why had he not checked the weather?
“Fuck” he hit the steering.
Every second felt like an hour to him and he could just not wait to get home to make sure she was fine.
Eventually Dante drove into the mansion at a certainly dangerous speed. He barely parked the car before stepping out into the pouring rain and hurrying over to the main building.
He walked in and she was not in the living room. His steps quickened as he climbed the stairs and made his way to her room.
“Mireille!” He called her name and pushed the door of her room open.
She was seated on her bed with the sheets over her head. She was shivering and quivering underneath so much that Dante could notice it.
“Princess!” He gasped and rushed over to her.
He grabbed the sheets to pull it off her head but Mireille only panicked even more.
“Please let me be dad!” She cried.
“I don’t want to go out. I… I don’t want to go out into the rain, Dad. Please” she cried, keeping the sheets over her head with all her strength.
Dante’s jaws clenched. He did not care if it was her dad or even her closest person, no one was worthy of hurting her.
“You are not going out into the rain, princess. I am here and I will keep you here, sheltered and warm. I am not taking you into the cold” he spoke as calmly as his rage could let him.
Gently, he pulled her into his arms, not bothering to pull the sheets off her head.
“Please” she whimpered and Dante shut his eyes tight.
“I won’t take you out, Princess.” He assured her and her shaking seemed to reduce.
“I won’t let anyone take you out into the rain too. Not your Dad, not anyone else” he continued to whisper comforting words to her, patting her gently until she was finally calm.
Dante heaved a sigh of relief, glad that she was now fine. He gently pulled the sheets off her head.
Her eyes were still closed but Dante could see that she had cried a few tears. Crying from being pleasured was the only cries Dante could allow Mireille.
He didn’t want to see her crying from being hurt. It made him feel like James had not done a really good job protecting Mireille from the harshness of reality because she was still getting hurt.
Dante placed a kiss on her forehead and gently laid her back on the bed, tucking her in.
He stood by the bedside, wondering what she must have gone through before he arrived.
He rubbed the space between his brows, blaming himself for what she went through before he arrived.
Dante bent over and kissed her forehead again.
“Just a minute” he walked out and headed to his own room where he pulled off his wet clothes and dumped them on the couch.
He changed into his nightwear and headed back to Mireille’s room, all of his steps hurried.
He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw her still sleeping peacefully. Suddenly, thunder struck and Mireille gasped again.
Giving up on his contemplations, Dante walked over to her bed and got into bed.
He pulled her into his arm, his right hand settling on her waist as her head rested on his chest.
“I will be here through the night”