His Exclusive Stripper: You Are Mine, Don

My eyes flew wide open as soon as he was gone and the door was shot behind him. I tried getting out of the bed but my head was banging terribly, as though there was an elephant stumping it feet inside my head.

Antonio, in love with Me? Maybe I was still to drunk. I relaxed into the bed, giving willingly to the tiredness that had sunken into my entire being. My phone was ringing somewhere around, but it sounded so far in my head, like it was just a dream.

****

What started as a terrible headache the previous night had developed into a dreadful hangover by morning. I couldn’t keep my eyes open without shielding the lights away with my hands.

The ring of my phone sounded like a banging in my head. I reached for it, placing it to my ears. It was Charlie.

“Hi there,” he greeted.

“Hi Charlie,”

“You haven’t been picking your calls, what’s going on?” He asked.

“Charlie it’s not safe for you to call like this, we don’t want to blow things up,”

“What the hell are you talking about Eve? You were seen at a party last night, dancing with a random man…”

The door flung open, so I stopped listening. Antonio was walking through with a ceramic tray in hand, his top unbuttoned as usual. Was this an intentional act of seduction? I wondered.

The jumbled memories of last night came playing in my head. Surprisingly, I couldn’t remember clearly the things he had said, when he was beside me. Did he say he loved Me? I rubbed my forehead in a failed attempt at recollecting.

“Eve, are you there?” Charlie called from the phone that was hung midway to my ears.

“Hi, you are awake.” Antonio called, walking up to the bed.

I remembered slapping him. Yes, I had slapped him before passing out. Oh god, what if he was still angry?

“Hmmm,” I nodded, ending the call and dropping the phone, awaiting what was to come next. There would definitely be a punishment for slapping a mafia Lord, but why didn’t I think of it last night?

“Who was that?” He asked, pointing at the phone.

It was at the tip of my tongue to tell him it was my boyfriend, but I knew better than pushing my limit with someone that could be so sweetly dangerous.

“A friend,” I answered.

“I thought you would need this,” he placed the tray before me. There was a cup of coffee and chocolate wafer in the tray.

I felt relief washing over me, there was certainly no way he was angry and serving me coffee right? But even if he was still angry, it was sweet to know that he had first thought of making me feel better.

“Thanks,” I picked up the mug, sipping it content slowly.

An awkward silence settled between us. I felt like there was so much he wanted to say, but was intentionally keeping quiet. Should I apologize for the slap? I contemplated. Maybe I shouldn’t, that would be me reminding him and it could make things worst. So I sipped on in silence.

“Join me for a walk, would you?” He asked.

“Umm, I do not feel well, I don’t know…”

“You would be fine after taking that,” he interrupted, pointing at the mug in my hands.

It was pointless arguing, I drank the rest of the coffee in absolute quietness. I could see from the corner of my eyes that he was starring at me. It was an intentional act, he didn’t turn away when I caught his stare and that made me embarrassed.

“How do you feel?” He asked, when I placed my mug on the bedside drawer.

True to his word, I felt better. The headache had reduced considerably. And some of the weakness in my joints were gone as well.

“I feel better.”

“I would wait for you to change up,” he announced, moving to the sofa.

I dropped from the bed, walking over to the wardrobe. The pink robe was looking appealing for an occasion like this. Then the girl at the party crossed my mind. I remembered she had worn a Barbie pink top on a really skimpy skirt. What if this room belonged to her and the robe too. Well, I pushed the robe aside, developing a more intensed hate for the color.

I picked out a simple blue gown instead. It could make for a night wear, except that it was thicker. Yet, my nipple were standing hard on the fiber. I walked over to the mirror, packing my hair in a messy bun.

“Let’s go,” he called from behind me, offering his hand.

I remembered at once how he’d grabbed me away from the red-haired man, with furry burning in his eyes. Was that jealousy? Why was he being so calm now? Was this a trap after all? He was probably trying to get me to relax before doing what he had in mind. If that was it, then I had to be at alert.

“That wasn’t just coffee, was it?” I asked.

“No.”

“What did you put in it?”

“A little something to make you feel better,” he answered.

The guard at the sitting room bowed to Antonio as we passed by. Same thing happened as we passed through the castle yard. I couldn’t guess where we were headed. Antonio turned a corner, that took us behind the building. There was an almost invisible gate amongst thick shrubs of flowers. Some part of the gate was rusted with age.

“Where are we going?” I couldn’t help asking, noticing that there was a wall before us. But Antonio kept walking, not slowing down. “Can you watch out?” I half screamed.

“Oh no, goodness this was it, you’ve been so nice today, ignoring the terrible things that I did last night cause you had this all planned out?” I kept screaming, as we walked right into the wall, over to the other side that was a garden.

“Woow!” I whispered.

“So you were saying?” He turned to me, suddenly feigning attention.

“I’m… I… i was saying… I mean I was to say…”

“You love me?” He interrupted my stammer.

“No. I meant to say I’m sorry for slapping you last night.” I coughed out.

“I’m glad you remembered,” he answered, taking a seat on a swing.

“Why are you glad?” I propped my brows, holding the swinging seat to steady it to a stop.

“It would be terrible punishing a person for a crime that they do not remember committing?” He said. At least, one thing was now clear. And that was the fact that I was going to get punished.

I swallowed tightly, lowering myself into the seat of the swing. The air was fresh and the sky was a hue of blue. The flowers added a peculiar beauty to the environment, as the stalks danced merilly in the air.

“How did we get here?” I asked.

“What?”

“How did we go through the wall? Are you also some of magician?”

“No, the wall is a mirage. It’s not there, but you’re to think it is,” he explained.

“Same as your rudeness?”

“What do you mean?” He stopped swinging.

“Your rudeness and wickedness, they’re a mirage too, right?” I went on in a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you mean, but if you’re trying to say I’m mean and wicked, then you’re not far from the truth.” He smirked.

“That’s what I’m talking about. It’s a mirage. You want people to see and think that you’re evil. What I don’t understand is why a person would prefer being identified as bad, rather than good.”

“You don’t know me,” he stood up from the swing, heading deeper into the garden, through a gate of flowers.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“You bet. I’ve been here for What? Seventy-two hours? And I’ve seen enough to tell me who you are.” I was almost running to catch along with him.

“Drop it.” He called.

“What?”

“Whatever theory you’re trying to prove. It won’t help you escape my punishment.” He turned to an abrupt stop, that I would have been right in his face if I took one more step.

That was what he thought? That I was telling him this to win his heart over and not receive his punishment? Shallow of him to think. But on the side, why was I trying so hard to see the good in him? Wasn’t it better if I continued with my prejudice against him? Convincing myself about his goodness would only do one thing. Ruin the plan.

I was shut out of my thoughts when his lips descended upon mine. I didn’t see it coming this time, neither had I thought it would happen. Yet, there I was, giving in hungrily into what could have been a mistake. I had envisioned this kiss for such a long time, that when it finally came, I had to let go of every restrainment.