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Chapter Five {Davinia} 🌹

Labyrinth ~ oblivion💎

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After Tiana left, I go through today's report. Tonight's shipment went well and I was able to seal the deal with the owner of Los Angeles 3-star hotel. My phone screen lits up, a notification of a message from Butcher.

Butcher: All cleared, Boss.

I send him an "okay" and then switch off my phone. Falling back on my chair, I roll my shoulders. Today was a bit stressful.

It was all work and no fun. An heavy sigh leaves my lips.

The night breeze blows in, ruffling the curtains. I take out the framed image of papa that I kept in the locker.

It's my favorite picture. A picture that captured Me, my dad, and my mum smiling genuinely. The smiles on our faces are really beautiful, my mother's hazel eyes glisten along with my dad's sparkling green eyes. Seven-year-old me sat in their middle with a full stretched smile on my chubby face.

We had happy moments but if I didn't have this picture with me, those memories would have died a long time ago.

My fingers graze the surface, touching papa's face softly. I sigh again.

I return the picture to the drawer. It's time for bed.

The door at the left side of my office leads to my room and I leave, climbing down the stairs to my bedroom.

The mini chandeliers lined on the ceiling lit up as I walk into my room. The moonlight illuminates the room.

A very spacious room painted cream with potted floral at each corner. My vanity stood at the far side of the room, beside it was my full oval mirror.

Papa treated me like a princess and built the estate like a castle. The interior designs were intricate and enchanting. Each room holds special memories that serve as a reminder of who we were before papa died. I always find peace and solace whenever I'm home, it is a haven of mine.

I go for a quick relaxing shower to lose the tension on my shoulders. It takes me twenty minutes in the shower before I finally decide to leave, change into a silk white night robe and prepare for bed.

Quietly, I lay on my back, staring at the dark blue ceiling. My mind does a recollection of today's event, pondering especially on tonight's dinner with Mr. Dimitri.

I turn to the side, and slip my hands underneath my pillow. He must be around 30 or less, His expression was non-existent when he wasn't talking or looking at me.

If he really did love his wife, why did he choose to remarry? The idea of being a rebound is not appealing to me but I'm not entirely innocent since my reason for being with him is to avenge my father's death.

I turn to the other side, reshuffling the blankets. Marrying into the Russian mafia isn't so bad, We'd have each other's back. I'll like to see Alessandro try to pull his gang out of the mafia now.

A smile creeps up my cheeks.

Minutes pass and I'm yet to sleep. All I've been doing is turning and tossing on the bed. Thoughts crowds my head, filling up the space. Flashbacks of painful memories visit my mind. I get out of bed and slip into a fluffy pair of flip-flops. The night is perfect for a stroll down the garden. The night is beautiful and the weather is soothing.

Thick clouds covers the moon, dimming the brightness but the magical essence of the light remain. The night wind blows, feathering my auburn curls. I pull the strands behind my ears before hugging myself, shivering a little.

Suddenly, the air around me feels tight. The hairs on my neck stood erect, the atmosphere is stiff.

Someone's here

I stand alert, my hands drop down to my side to form fists

He's close.
Now!

I turn back swiftly with my right hand swinging for a jab but missed. A hand flys out to pull me and I dig repeatedly at it, paralyzing the hand. It falls limb less. Quickly, I move to face the person only to get pull by the neck to a rigid body.

My senses get engulfed in the overwhelming scent of cloves and honey, calming my raging body but then—

I pull at the arm around my neck aggressively but the body behind me wouldn't budge.

"Relax, Darling" Rolan whispered hoarsely to my ears. Stilling my movements. Now, his oak and citrus scent swallow the air that I breathe.

I take my hands off him and he unwraps his from my neck. Embarrassment swallows me whole, I clear my throat and turn to face him.

With s slight bow of I head, I mutter, "Forgive me, Mr. Dimitri. I was startled, you snuck up on me"my voice is in the middle of being harsh and sweet. I come back up and straighten my shoulders.

Bad idea.

He has on a white tank top which hugged his ripped physique, his silver chain with a crystal lock pendant glimmers in the moonlight. The moon itself reflected in his Cobalt blue eyes.
The whole sight was mesmerizing.

I look down at his jelly right hand and I feel guilty all over again. "I'm s—"

"Don't" He cautions softly.

I remain silent but my face falls.

"I didn't mean to sneak up on you. One has to be alert always" He mumbles to himself but loud enough for me to hear.

"Where did you learn to do that?"

I smile bitterly.

"My mum taught me"

He nods slowly, walking past me towards the lake. His paralyzed right hand swings mindlessly as he walks.

Damn!

Even his back muscles are well defined. This must be torture.

The lake is another mystical part of the estate. It was clear Grey, so clear you can see the stones and rocks beneath it. Pebbles of different sizes decorate the edges, lily flowers float elegantly on the surface, wavering at the slow and gentle tide.

He bends on one knee, his left knee touching the ground. His hands play with the water, sending ripples through it, breaking the reflection of the moon on the surface. Even this gentle action looks intimidating.

"This place is magnificent. You really want to leave this behind?" He asks out of the blue. His words hold weight but I know the meaning behind them.

I clear my throat. "I would leave it behind someday. I am a woman after all" is my calm but passive response.

He stands back up, raises his right hand and fists it tightly before releasing it then repeats the process.

After a few seconds of gaining life back into his right hand, he faces me. His blue eyes read mine in a calculated kind of way.

He probably doesn't know how much intensity that look holds.

"Do you want to get married to me, Davinia?"

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