The first thing Tara woke up to was pain. She was surprised her body even allowed her the privilege of sleep. She was convinced the constant stinging won't stop all night nor would it get better. Her feminine parts throbbed violenly at the remembrance of last night. An eyeful tear quickly trickled down her eyes even before she opened it. Slowly when her eyelids opened , she was greeted with the beast of her nightmares . He eloquently sat at the corner club chair. His intertwined legs rested on the table in front as his eyes sincerely watched tabloid in his hands. Another tear trickled through the creek of her nose leaving the enmity on its wake. Her fist tightened around itself to contain the scream that scratched her insides. His simple act of sitting back and relaxing said so much for how much he cared after using her body like a rag doll. Infuriation was an insultingly small word. She reminded herself to not expect anything of him for she knew he didn't owe her anything. If anyon

Italy was like a painting. Every scene even through the frame of a tinted window could easily be sold as a million worth portrait. As the limo took its turns through the italy's some of the most prestigious roads, Tara had an opportunity to witness the history of its ancestors. The stellar churches and tombs, humongous mansions and divine buildings. She had only read of these places in the random history books. She momentarily felt grateful for her eyes. She knew Italy was beautiful but to witness it with her own eyes was an experience worth living so far was. She decided if she ever managed to survive the life she was put through, at least once she would wonder around this country, enter the churches she was now only seeing from outside, feel the history happening through the narrow roads. The forty five minute ride through the most comfortable car in the world, she savored the liberty of looking out the window. As much as her husband's cousin tried to make her uncomfortable, she sim

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

She paced back and forth biting her nails. The night had dawned upon Paris. Still in her wet clothes she didn't notice when her body started shivering from cold, the only thought that pierced back and forth through her senses was what if Donavan didn't come? What if he never saw her message or worse what if he ignored the text altogether because he had more important things to do?It unsettled her, it was even more unsettling that for once she saught his attention. She had never imagined the day and yet it knocked on her fate, crushing the core foundation of her sheer hatred for the man. She tried to take deep breaths but the hollowness inside her chest grew with time.The simple imagination of being under Dominic disgusted and downright nauseated her. Only when her breathe started getting caught up in her throat did she decided to open the curtains and push her head outside the window. The sudden cold air hit her senses like a snow ball on a sunny day. She breathed, Inhaling the scent

The romantic evening in Paris bustled with enthusiasm and love. Tourists dined in the lavish restaurants in the city that smelled of money, and scent. While the fresh cold air enlivened the life of night, the trickling dread swept the colour of Tara's face as she was forced to face herself in the mirror. She looked ruined. Her hair were disheveled, lipstick was slightly smudged and eyes looked watery. A strange glow adored her face as it usually did after doing vigorous activity. Even in her most unconscious state of well being she looked like the most stunning seductress to him. Her eyes lost of all hope glistened with tears. Her lips too twinkled with her successful attempt of submission. No matter how ruined she thought of herself, she only became appealing for him. He watched her unkempt state, hoping to ruin her some more as the night dug deeper. His hand pushed her hair to the left side, looking for the buttons of her blouse. Untying the only knot that held her it together,