Chapter 1: Coma
Chapter Text
“Love and obsession are two sides of the same coin.”
- Unknown
They had strong connections in the US and Sicily. He was sent to Chicago to study at one of the top business schools of the world and as soon as he gained his MBA his father arranged a celebration. They were on the 103rd floor of the Chicago Skydeck Skyscraper in a fine dining restaurant that was reserved for the event. The place where it all transpired, when his life had changed irrevocably, where fate had dealt her hand but spared him.
"Choose your pain carefully, pain of discipline or the pain of regret. If you don't sacrifice for what you want, what you want becomes the sacrifice." his father's last words to him.
He remembered hearing the glass shatter before the bullets shot through his father’s chest and then his own, he felt his father’s blood splatter across his face. He remembered trying to support his weight before they inadvertently crashed to the floor, remembered seeing his still face as he turned his head to look at him for the last time before it all went dark.
Somehow he managed to survive and he smiled sardonically at that. After he woke he was told of the extensive surgery he had to undertake and the coma he lay in for weeks afterwards. They thought he’d never wake let alone survive at the beginning. They said it was a miracle, however he believed in fate and he knew she wasn’t done with him just yet, he felt it bone deep, she gave him a chance to make it right and so he grabbed it with both hands.
Two years later he returned to New York. He stood in an office of a tall building that he now owned, looking out through the expansive glass onto the streets below as he leaned on his forearm, fist clenched, blood simmering in his veins at the mere memory. Thirst for vengeance was still all consuming. When he found the ones responsible for the betrayal, who put a target on his father’s back along with any other associates, there was nothing identifiable left by the time he and his men were done. And yet he was unsatisfied, his instincts whispered to him that they did not reach the true source, the centre of the web whom started the chain reaction of the events that followed, because it all felt almost too easy, like it was planned all too well. Who ever it was covered their tracks immaculately.
He run his hand through his hair from frustration, he could still feel it, it’s been two years and yet the scars still ached.
He closed his eyes and the image of her flashed behind his eyelids. Even after all this time he could still almost hear her phantom voice, captivating him like a siren's call, feel the ghost touch of her knuckles along his right cheek that soothed his tormented soul. He searched for her, this girl whose image was burned into the back of his eyelids, the image that quieted the demons within his mind, eased the ache of his wounds. He had no idea why but there was just something about her.
As he lay in the coma he remembered sometimes hearing inscrutable voices, as if far away, the feeling of medical hands redressing his surgical wounds, being cold, always so cold but mostly he remembered the eerie silence, which felt like an all consuming abyss and he was standing on the edge of it. He tried to take a step back but couldn’t move his limbs, unable to do anything but look into the darkness and when you stare into the darkness long enough it starts to stare back. Fear had gripped his mind for what felt like an eternity.
Then he felt his consciousness being pulled back from the void by the gentle lull of a voice that started speaking to him. It was a low soothing drawl of a young woman. Everyday she would come to him and his mind would grip onto consciousness, growing stronger each time. His eyelids felt like lead, unable to open them for a long time until one day he found the strength to and his eyes flickered open for the first time in several weeks. Then he saw her, leaning over him, a lucid but vivid image of a beautiful girl. The light above her was almost blinding, made her appear ethereal, glowing, not from this world. She was like enveloping warmth and he wanted to reach for her but had no strength to do so. Her gentle smile and soft blue eyes had given him peace, had made him feel safe. Unable to keep his eyes open any longer darkness had taken him once more.
The next time he woke it was to a crowd of medics and his men, assessing him and filling him in.
She never came back but he had dreamt of her in between wakefulness.
He was very weak when he first properly awakened. By the time he found enough strength to stay awake for more than a few minutes and found his voice to speak once again, to ask about the girl, no one knew who she was nor where she’d come from or where she had gone. He ordered his men to question the medical personnel but they couldn’t give any clear answers, all they managed to get was that they didn’t have anyone working there with her description and not all volunteers were kept a permanent record of. She was possibly a student that had volunteered for a couple of weeks but no record was taken as it may have been arranged by a word of mouth, they said she must have slipped through the system, much to his frustration. The rotation of staff as well as the influx and change of patients made it that much more difficult for any leads to be found. It was as if she had appeared and vanished into thin air.
His henchmen remembered her but failed to identify the girl. They didn’t let her into his private room initially but when one of their visiting elders had allowed her entry, to read to him, they did not question it, the fools. She could have been an assassin sent to finish the job and they hadn’t even asked for her name. He had those men disciplined in standard protocols.
Two weeks later they deemed him safe enough to travel with medical supervision so they flew him back home to Constanta, Romania to complete his recovery. All throughout his recuperation he was consumed by vengeance, he could barely think of anything else, this burning need to punish those who dared to strike against his family. He wasted no time in tracking down the culprits responsible for the assassination attempt and making them into an example of what happened when you messed with Romanian mafia. During the process he discovered and unraveled a dark web of conspiracy that went deeper and further than he could ever imagine.
Ever since he woke taking over his father’s empire had been nothing but war, a constant battle.
Only at night the image of her had chased away the nightmares that plagued his mind, the assassination attempt playing within his head like a broken record, watching his father laying in a pool of his own blood.
As the years passed he sometimes thought that he dreamt her up in his subconscious. He could not forget her vivid image nor did he want to. He had commissioned an artisan to create a portrait from the description he gave, it took some time but the artist had managed to mirror his memory of her to canvas, an image of an angelic face that depicted innocence and purity, incomparable beauty, his angel. To this day he could still almost remember the phantom feeling of her knuckles gliding along his cheek gently, in comfort.
Initially they tried to convince him to let it go, to forget about her but he refused. He searched for her when he could, it became an obsession, he could not shake his fixation on finding her. They probably thought him crazy, probably laughed behind his back because they knew what he would do to them if they ever voiced their opinions in his presence.
And then after 7 years fate had smiled upon him and their paths have crossed once more. He saw her by chance at the JFK airport in New York as his car was driving by. Immediately he had her followed.
He learnt a little later that she was a kindergarten teacher in Brooklyn and he smiled at that knowledge.
He looked at the photos of her taken by his men, couldn’t stop staring at them. The one where she sat with a couple of the kids, waiting for their late parents to come pick them up, trying to cheer them up a little animatedly, her smile wide and warm had felt like a punch to the gut, an almost déjà vu.
Something deep and overwhelmingly possessive had stirred within his chest then and he began formulating a plan.
Chapter Text
“Love is passion, obsession, someone you can’t live without. If you don’t start with that, what are you going to end up with?”
- Meet Joe Black
She noticed the black SUV Range Rover parked along the road opposite the school she worked. It was hard to miss as it looked so out of place, perhaps a little imposing. It was more the fact that it was a notorious English brand of car which wasn't so common in the US, it reminded her of London. For three days straight it was parked there and she assumed that perhaps it belonged to one of the residents in the area, it was a nice Brooklyn neighbourhood after all. She speculated with humour, a new car someone perhaps bought to compensate for one thing or another? Or possibly a middle life crisis buy? She snorted in amusement at that, cracking herself up before bringing back her attention to the classroom of little monsters, her little angels with horns and pitchforks.
She had never thought that she’d actually enjoy teaching, let alone little humans who were little devils in innocent disguises. It was bloody hard and they sometimes drove her insane but she had to admit that it was also a lot of fun.
“Hey! Jimmy! Stop pulling Dee’s pigtails ya hear me?!” she chastised the naughty boy who always teased the shy little girl, whom she suspected he secretly liked, kids, she smiled fondly. They never seemed to run out of energy, running around as if rockets were strapped to their shoes, she chuckled at that image in her mind’s eye.
On the fourth day when she got into her car to drive home, a little while later, she noticed the same black SUV in her rear view mirror when switching lanes, identifying it by the licence plate.
It couldn’t have been following her, she scoffed at the thought, ridiculous. She berated herself for being paranoid. But - for some reason something twisted in her gut and the hair on the back of her neck stood. She changed her route and took a couple of random turns, gaze flickering to the mirror every few seconds, waiting.
“What the fuck...” she muttered under her breath as the Range Rover came into view once again in the mirror. Flight instinct kicking in, she tried to loose it and she thought she managed to, her street wit and driving skills coming into full force. She had driven within the chaos of London and once you have learnt how to drive there you could drive anywhere.
She had shaken them off her trail and ended up at the docks by the Brooklyn Bridge. Parking her car in a busy outdoor car park she got out to walk along the pier where it was full of tourists and New Yorkers alike, safe out in the open, disappearing within the crowd.
The wind was picking up and her long wavy locks were suffering for it but it had felt nice, the salty air filling her lungs had helped slow her racing heart somewhat. She contemplated calling the police but what would they be able to do? They’d probably make her look ridiculous, without proof nor motive it was a hopeless situation. She then tried calling Wanda to see if she could crash at her place but it went to voicemail. She made an educated guess that she must have been at Vision's place, she sighed deeply, fuck.
Too afraid to go home yet as they may still be waiting for her somewhere to tail her to her place she walked aimlessly for over an hour, sometimes stopping to lean against the rail and look out onto the crashing waves below, the view and the sound almost cathartic.
The sun had started to set and its' vivid colours reflected against the Hudson River beautifully. Then the city lights had started to flicker on like fireflies, bathing the former grey buildings with various shades.
It was a fairly cool May evening and the wind’s temperature was starting to drop steadily. She rubbed her upper arms a little to create a bit of warmth, as her skin broke out in goose bumps after a fairly cold draft. Her sleeveless white blouse tucked into her dark green high waist trousers weren’t enough to protect her from the chill. However, she didn’t feel quite ready to make her way back home just yet, she tried calling Wanda again but it still went to voicemail, she grumbled to herself.
The rational part of her mind tried to reason and justify, perhaps it was just a big coincidence and she was blowing it out of proportion but her gut, her instincts, had never let her down in the past. She just hoped it wasn’t one of the 'independent' agencies...again...it's been years but still...perhaps she should reach out to the CISA agent that overseen her in the past?
“Are you lost baby-doll?” A deep, smooth voice of a stranger snapped her out of her reverie. She brought her hand up to keep her wind swept hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear as she turned towards him, standing a couple meters away from her.
When their eyes met for the first time she felt a shiver go down her spine. He was a striking man with a devil may care smile and the most piercing stormy grey blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was smartly dressed in a white shirt with a couple of the buttons open at the top and dark navy suit, tailored to him perfectly. There was something about him though, something she couldn’t quite decipher, something almost predatory. His build and his tall stature made him a little imposing, a little intimidating. Her breath caught in her throat, freezing momentarily like a dear in the headlights. His eyes and his smile, the way he was looking at her in that moment without breaking eye contact, had made her think of the grey wolf that stalked its pray for miles before finally tracking it down, satisfied, ready for the kill.
Her appraisal of him seemed to have pleased him in some way, the way his eyes glinted and his smile widened marginally, he was the personification of an Alpha male. But the undertone of his arrogance of his words had brought her back to herself quick enough. She scoffed, he wasn’t the first nor will he be the last arrogant man that tried to hit on her, but perhaps the most striking so far. Gathering her wits about her she smiled sardonically at his question and replied with her signature style of sass, ready to put him in his place.
“Do I look lost?”
“We all get a little lost from time to time.”
“And now you have found me.” She drawled, words dripping with sarcasm, her left eyebrow rising.
“That I did...” His smile turning warm, his tone and his words, unexpected, threw her a little and her expression faltered lightly. They seemed to hold a lot more meaning than just the face value of what he said. He was serious and it confused her as to what he actually meant. Who was this guy?
God was she beautiful, so much more in real life than in the photos his men took, more than what he remembered, she took his breath away. Watching her from a distance as she walked down the pier, sometimes stopping and leaning over the rail, the wind tugging at her long wavy locks, her hand resting against her cheek as she lost herself within her thoughts, had made him stop and stare.
He sent some of his men to guard her in the meantime, watch her in case word got out that he had finally found his girl, because he knew that some would try to use her as leverage against him or even kill her to spite him. He needed a little bit of time to put everything into place before making his move.
His baby-doll was a smart one though and she had caught onto his henchmen quickly, then they had managed to loose her, those idiots. When they called him to inform him of the situation he thought he’d strangle them with his bare hands. He quickly got a couple of his men to tap into the traffic cameras to track down her car through her licence plate. It didn’t take long and so he changed the plans slightly, inpatient to see her.
He had to fight down his initial reaction to her, the raw need of wanting to go to her immediately, to envelop her possessively, to kiss her hard and senselessly, to finally be able to feel her in his arms, feel the softness and the warmth of her skin and lips against him own. He’d searched and waited for 7 years to do so, his whole being burned from the anticipation.
When he eventually approached her, spoke to her, it had felt so surreal, to have finally met her in person, to have finally found her after so long. His hands itched to touch her, to prove to himself that she was real and she was here with him. He didn't mean to call her baby-doll, the endearment was a slip of the tongue because in his head that is how he always referred to her as he never knew her name until now and without thinking it slipped out but her reaction didn't disappoint, she had fire in her and it pulled him to her that much more.
He wasn’t sure if she remembered him or not because of her words, and her initial reaction to him didn’t give away any recognition. He tried to relax his stance.
“I’m James.” He held out his hand and she looked at it a little apprehensively with a raised eyebrow before eventually holding out her own. His hand almost completely enveloped her delicate one, her warmth seeped into him and he didn’t want to let go, all he wanted to do was pull her to him into a crushing embrace.
He held her hand a little longer than necessary, his eyes focused on their joint hands as if perplexed. He heard her chuckle a little and it snapped him out of his fixated trance. He raised his gaze to her, observing her intently, he liked the sound of her laugh and how her eyes crinkled as she smiled. He must have made an awkward face, which seemed to have amused her.
“Darcy.” She said softly, watching him carefully.
When he stepped closer and his hand had encircled her own his expression changed, his eyes had softened and he stared at their joint hands as if transfixed in wonder. His boyish expression made her chuckle, he was a little peculiar in his mannerisms, perhaps he wasn’t a complete arrogant asshole and more of an awkward dork at heart. The thought made her grin in amusement.
He fell into step with her as she turned to carry on walking down the pier, now slightly less crowded as the sun had already set.
“Do you come here often?” he kept close, their shoulders almost brushing.
“Not particularly, too many tourists. I take it you work around here?” she momentarily turned to look at him.
“Not too far…I travel fairly regularly to New York for business, here for few more days.” he stopped before continuing, licking his lips. “Have dinner with me.” he asked almost abruptly and perhaps with a little hint of nervousness, catching her a little off guard. She looked away from him and hummed a little, not really sure if she should or not.
“I was hoping to eat with company, gets a little tiring eating alone. What’s the worst that could happen?” Glancing back at him, she saw that his eyes had never left her but now held a hint of humour in them. She bit her lip, perhaps she could kill a couple of hours in his company rather than…she didn’t really want to be alone that evening either so on a whim she’d agreed.
“Ok" she smiled "lead the way.” she turned back to look forward as they strolled leisurely, hoping that the warmth in her cheeks wasn't obvious.
They took a short walk as he led her to one of the Italian restaurants by the docks looking out onto the Hudson River. As they entered, the concierge held the door open for them. His hand had come up to gently rest against the middle of her back, she felt the warmth of his palm seep through her blouse and was unable to repress the heat that bloomed on her cheeks in response.
Wordlessly the waiter led them to their table and she glanced up at him. He saw the movement and looked down at her at the same time, the corner of his mouth curled up, his eyes inscrutable. Within the privacy of her mind she had conceded to her self that he was undeniably attractive, his face had a striking bone structure with high cheekbones and full lips that did things to her, what a girl to do?
But the most distinctive thing she noticed about this man was the way he carried himself, confident with masculine grace. You could see it in the way he held himself, the way he spoke.
She had never dated anyone quite like him nor had she essentially ever been on such an impromptu date. He clearly was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and they came from two very different types of world. There was very little chance this would lead to anything especially since he mentioned that he travels a lot. However, it didn't mean that she couldn't enjoy his attentions for a few hours, admire the apple candy without any pressure as she’d probably never see him again after tonight. She could just enjoy the date without any expectations.
He pulled out the chair for her before sitting down himself, which made her smile. She fully enjoyed how he treated her with gentleman mannerisms, it was a rare quality in men these days.
After ordering their food and accompanying wine they talked about inconsequential things at first, to break the ice a little. There wasn’t much that he didn’t know about her already as one of his men had put together a file of her life as per his orders but he wanted to hear it from her, wanted to know the details of her life that wouldn’t have been included in the file, fill in the gaps.
He asked her what she did for a living and she told him about her job, she almost seemed to glow as she talked about her ‘little humans’ as she put it, it had made him smile, her positive energy and kindness pulled him in, her bright smile captivating. He wanted it to be directed at him, only for him and he’d hoped that one day it would be. He was curious though as to why she didn’t go into the medical field.
“I had imagined you to be in the medical profession.”
“Oh no, way too intense and very little life work balance.”
“I hardly believe that it would be too intense for someone such as yourself but I understand the other point. Have you ever worked or spent time in a hospital?
“Yes…actually I have, I spent a couple of weeks in one of the Chicago hospitals for like work experience when I was 18. However, in the end life had taken me on a different route.”
He nodded in understanding as he glanced down at the table, at the thin stem of the wine glass between his fingers, memories of the hospital room flashing in his minds eye before he glanced back at her. The final confirmation that he didn't really need but wanted all the same, and without a doubt it was her. The satisfaction that he felt was almost overpowering.
“Have you always lived in New York?”
“No, I’ve travelled a little, spent the majority of that time in London.”
“London…”
“Yep.”
“Hhhmm…because of a fella?” he used the english slang word for a man to amuse her and it seemed to have worked.
“Perhaps...” she just smiled coyly not really answering his question. His lips had thinned but he did not drop his smile. He had never felt jealousy, not in the way he had in that moment, never cared about any woman the way he cared about her, the mere thought of any man touching her had stirred something dark within his chest and he’d rip anyone to shreds who’d dare touch what belonged to him.
“Lucky man…” he drawled looking away, his left hand curling into a fist under the table, trying to keep his mind from going to dark places and in that moment his phone had rang, pulling him back. He pulled the phone out to put it on silent and returned it into the breast pocket of his suit jacket.
"I'm sorry for my rudeness, i should have put it on silent earlier."
"I don't mind, you can answer it if you want." Darcy smiled, appreciating his thoughtfulness, there was nothing more disrespectful to a date than being on the phone but this went beyond perfect date etiquette. He was attentive and genuine, there was nothing forced about his body language or how he spoke. Dear lord help her because she was starting to enjoy their date a little too much.
"It's alright, nothing that can't wait till tomorrow morning."
He wouldn’t let her pay for dinner but it was almost sweet the way she had tried to insist on it.
“Call me old fashioned, and besides I was the one that stole a few hours of your time.” she reluctantly agreed with a shy smile just for him, which warmed his chest.
Having spent a few short but enjoyable hours with this suave man with easy charm, she had almost wished that he wasn’t leaving New York but knew it was a perilous train of thought that she shouldn’t entertain nor contemplate for many reasons.
When they exited the restaurant he draped his jacket over her shoulders and asserted to walk her to her car.
“Oh no it’s ok, I’m fine really.” She tried to protest despite the cold but he wouldn’t budge.
“I insist.”
“I take it you aren’t used to people telling you no?” he chuckled at her words and she couldn’t help but smile in return, liking the sound of his laugh, deep and something undoubtedly male. She held his suit jacket a little tighter around herself, enjoying the warmth it provided, could smell the subtle yet enthralling hint of his cologne. Who didn’t like chivalrous men that smelled divine? Ugh she hated her luck.
“Something like that…” the side smirk with that dimple in his cheek did things to her she could not describe even under duress and this chemistry between them was almost too much for her ovaries. Oh my God woman put yourself together! she thought furiously.
When they approached her car she pressed the unlock button on the set of her keys but instead of getting in she turned to him and leaned against the door of her white Audi car, looking at him intently.
He smiled at her enigmatically, standing respectfully a couple of feet away. There was something about him that seemed almost familiar in that moment, something in his features, but she couldn’t quite figure out what it was nor how that could be as he wasn’t a sort of man you’d simply forget meeting.
He had that aura about him, an air of a powerful man, she could tell he was no ordinary businessman but God-damn his devil may care smile sent a thrill through her like no other she had ever experienced. Her rational mind supplied that perhaps it was a good thing that she’d never see him again after tonight, despite the slight disappointment that bloomed in her chest at the thought, she tried to ignore it.
“Do you believe in fate?” he spoke lowly, his eyes dark, making her gut clench hotly. She hummed before speaking, initially thinking he was joking but the earnestness in his eyes and tone of his voice making her pause for a moment.
“Somewhat…but I don’t believe that everything is planned out and that we have some control over the choices that we make. Besides, fate is a busy lady, sometimes you gotta give her a hand.”
He laughed at her words, agreeing, and then silence befell them again, he looked at her intently and she couldn’t look away from his stormy eyes that looked at her as if wanting to consume her. When he spoke his next words she had watched his lips move transfixed, it took a moment for the words to register in her mind.
“Can I ask for a goodnight kiss baby-doll?” his voice a smooth drawl, his eyes glinting in the dim light.
Oh boy was she tempted in that moment, in the way he was looking at her, making her heart flutter and heat pool low in her abdomen. Trying to pretend to be unaffected by him was a challenge but she gave it a good shot, giving him a sultry smirk with a raised eyebrow but could not temper down the warmth in her cheeks.
“Aren’t you a forward one baby-boy?” she whispered in answer, tilting her chin down slightly, gazing at him through her lashes. She did not feel the confidence that her words carried but could see that they had the desired effect in the way his lips had parted slightly and his eyes had darkened further. She then noticed how his hands had fisted inside his suit trousers. Something akin to womanly pride had swelled in her chest, pleased, satisfied to see him just as affected by her as she was by him.
She did not know what compelled her, never having been this bold, especially with a stranger, a man she did not know, despite her obvious attraction to him but couldn’t find any reason to dissuade herself in that heated moment. She took a step forward, placing a hand on his chest lightly as she leaned into him, placing a slow lingering kiss on his cheek, right by the corner of his mouth.
“Good night stud.” she breathed softly against his lips with a small smile as she pulled away from him, taking a step back. After handing him his jacket she got into her car and left.
He watched her drive away, the corner of his mouth still tingling. It had taken everything in him not to crush her to him as soon as he’d felt her plump lips brush against the corner of his mouth, so tantalisingly close, he thought he’d go insane from want.
His phone rang and he welcomed the distraction.
His men were ready at her place. The SUV parked three blocks away, waiting for the signal through the earpiece to drive up at the right moment as they prepared to take her.
Notes:
Dun duuuun duuuuuuun!
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Chapter 3: Abduction
Chapter Text
‘Limerance’
A state of being that’s almost like a drug. Infatuation, obsession with another person, a deep desire for reciprocation of one’s feelings and a strong need to form a connection with the object of their love.
(A psychological term, meaning an obsessive love)
The drive back didn’t take long as the roads were mostly clear. Thoughts of the handsome stranger – James – who she had dinner with floated in her mind throughout the drive but the unease she felt in her gut only climbed the closer she got to her apartment, haven’t forgotten the SUV that seemed to have followed her earlier that day. She drove around the block to see if it was parked anywhere close, to set her mind at ease, and thankfully she didn’t.
After parking her car she got out and sighed deeply, what a day. Walking up to the main entrance of her apartment building she looked into her bag, searching for her keys. She was really looking forward to a hot shower and some hot earl grey tea before jumping into bed face first.
As she swiped the fob against the electronic reader she caught movement in the reflection of the glass of the door. She dashed through in a panic and managed to shut the door behind her just in time as a man in a dark suit tried to follow her. In the split second she reached into her bag for her tazer the same man used an identical fob to hers to unlock the door and as he moved towards her she tazed him, taking him down.
Adrenaline pumped thickly in her veins, too speechless to even curse aloud. She run up the stairs as fast as her feet could take her to barricade herself in her apartment and call the cops.
In hindsight perhaps she should have known that if the abductors had a fob to her building that it was highly likely that they would have got access to her apartment too. Before she could even unlock her door it swung open and the guy inside grabbed her, fortunately she still had her tazer in hand and she was lucky enough to manage to taze him but as she was distracted another goon came from behind her. She didn’t even have a chance to scream, a cloth dipped in chloroform came over her nose and mouth, knocking her out within seconds.
Sedated, she’d been taken swiftly.
She awakened the following morning, groggy with a splitting headache, in a very comfortable king size bed. Looking around slowly at her new surroundings, a lavishly decorated modern room, she blinked owlishly, utterly confused at how she managed to get there before panicking as the events of the previous night came back to her hazy state of mind. Scared out of her wits she jumped out of the bed.
Running up to the floor to ceiling glass windows she looked out onto the streets of New York, she noticed she was somewhere close to the Brooklyn Bridge. Too high up to try to get anyone’s attention, no balcony to call for help, she snorted, as if they’d hear her.
She had found that the door was locked, she tried to calm her breathing before she sent herself into a panic attack, forcing herself to try to think rationally. But none of it made sense. She hadn’t pissed anyone off to the best of her knowledge, neither had she touched a computer in that way in a year, had kept out of trouble.
“Then how the fuck did I end up here?” she thumped the door from frustration and mounting anger. Who would want to kidnap her? Was this some kind of human trafficking? She dreaded to think it.
The only option left was to explore the room, to see if she could find a phone or something to help her get out of there or at least something to defend herself with in case the situation required it, she prayed that it didn’t.
The wardrobe had her fucking clothes in it, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“What the actual fuck?”
She had to sit down, it was too much to process, she looked to the side and then noticed a massive tray of food left on the coffee table in the expansive room. Her stomach found it the perfect moment to let itself be heard, making her acknowledge how hungry she was. She stared at the tray of food before giving in and grabbing one from the assortment of pastries.
“God damn…at least the food is good.” If she didn’t laugh she’d cry so she tried to hold it together. Her eyes then strayed to the bathroom, she felt gross and was so tempted to use it but was too afraid to. What if they came for her in the middle of it? No fucking way.
She lay on top of the bed for three hours before giving in yet again and grabbing her clothes from the wardrobe. She jumped into the bathroom to have the world’s fastest shower, thinking to herself that it should really go into the book of world records.
She threw on a pair of light high-waist jeans and a baggy long sleeved baby-blue top, then put on her Fred Perry shoes in case she got a chance to run.
A couple of hours later she heard the door unlock and felt her breath catch in her throat, her heart thundered in her chest, but no one came in, she heard the footsteps moving away. She approached the door cautiously before opening it, pushing the door ajar a little. Peaking outside she found the hallway empty.
As quietly as she could with her heart in her throat she walked down the hall to try to find an exit but ended up in some kind of lobby.
“Are you lost baby-doll?”
She was struck by the recognition of the deep voice and the words. She turned sharply in the direction they came from to find the same man she spent the evening with the day before standing a couple of meters away.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Her voice shook a little, breathless, from the adrenaline and shock.
“Fate has brought you back to me.” He said enigmatically, his voice even, calm, eyes inscrutable.
“What?” her brows furrowed in confusion trying to make sense of his words.
“Seven years ago, at the Lenox Hill hospital, you read to the coma patients...one of those coma patients...was me.”
She gasped stumbling backwards, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, eyes wide, it finally clicked why he seemed familiar. He was that young man in that guarded VIP room, now older but much the same in the facial features.
He moved forward when she tried to step back until he crowded her against a wall.
“What do you want?” Her voice trembled slightly but she tried to put on a brave front, anger starting to rise within her chest, taking precedence over all the other emotions coursing through her in that moment.
“You.” He murmured leaning forward and she slapped him. In a matter of seconds he had her pinned to the wall with one hand holding her hands above her head while the other gripped her jaw and neck, firmly but not enough to hurt.
“Let go of me.” She muttered darkly, her fear now forgotten.
“Don’t do that again baby-doll.” The muscles in his jaw worked as he whispered against her lips, close but not touching, his tone a little threatening, eyes dark.
“You are insane.” She ground out, teeth clenched, he chuckled lowly at her words.
“Perhaps, but aren’t we all?...Don’t provoke me baby-doll. I can’t be gentle. I’m not used to…disobedience.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, breathing in each other’s air before he let go of her slowly and stepped back towards the vast windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, looking out onto the water. His hands slid into the pockets of his dark grey slacks.
“I’m not…usually a patient man but…I’m going to give you a year, to fall in love with me.”
“What?...what are you talking about?” disbelief threading her words as she stared at his back dumbly, hands running through her hair.
“If by this day next year nothing changes, I’ll set you free.” He turned to look at her then, expression neutral, eyes emotionally detached.
“You can’t expect me to just drop my life, my work, my friends for a year for some deranged lunatic. People will notice that I’ve gone missing.” She shook her head, scowling and then saw the corner of his mouth twitch up as he spoke his next words.
“All had been arranged, your sabbatical came into effect immediately.”
“…This can’t be happening.” She had to sit down, her legs wobbled a little as she moved to sit in one of the dark leather chairs. He walked over to where she sat, his hands coming up to rest on the arms of her chair, on either side of her, bracketing her in. She leaned back away from him, biting the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from slapping him again as her eyes narrowed with animosity at him.
“I won’t do anything without your permission…I’ll wait until you want me, until you come to me yourself…I won’t tie you up but don’t goad me baby-doll.” He paused for a moment licking his lips before continuing. “I’ll do anything, for you to reciprocate.”
What threw her the most was that he actually sounded sincere. Who was this man? How could she possibly had such an affect on him that he remembered her, a fleeting moment from so many years ago, to the point that he decided to kidnap her? It was crazy.
“You can’t honestly believe that you can just cage me and expect me to…to…” she breathed out heavily looking away from him.
Her heart hammered within her chest, flight instinct kicking in, she pushed him away roughly and tried to run but he was so much faster and stronger than her, he grabbed her by her waist and she felt weightless for a moment before her back came crashing into his hard chest. He turned her easily and pushed her against the wall, holding her wrists to his chest as he used his body to immobilise her, his head lowered towards her, their noses brushing, lips parted and almost touching, breathing unevenly.
He was so tempted to kiss her, wanted to so badly, but he knew he had to hold himself back, he didn’t want to take anything from her by force, he didn't want for her to resent him. He wanted her to come to feel for him, to come to love him, for her to want to kiss him, not by force but by her own choice. However, he couldn’t help the reaction she elicited from him every time she fought him.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes flicked down from her eyes to her plumb lips, unable to look away, his hands loosened around her wrists and as he was distracted she slowly pulled them out of his grasp and quickly reached in for his gun inside his chest holster and they sprang apart. She pointed the gun at him.
“Put down the gun sweetheart.” He stepped towards her and she took a step back.
“I own this building, even if you try to run baby-doll you won’t get very far.”
When her knees came in contact with the couch she looked down momentarily and that’s when he lunged for her, taking the gun swiftly away and then pulling her to him by her wrist. He twisted her so her front hit the wall, one hand around the front of her neck while the other held her arm behind her back firmly.
“Do you really want to kill me baby-doll? Many have tried but it’s not that easy.” He whispered into her ear.
“Why are you doing this?” her voice came out a little shaky, small, he realised that he was hurting her and released he immediately to then gently pull her to him, her back coming flush with his chest, his arms coiling around her small frame, embracing her the way he ached to for so long. Unable to repress his longing he lowered his head, nuzzling her, where her shoulder met her neck, relishing in the feel of her wavy locks, her gentle scent of orange blossom, before murmuring his answer to her like a confession.
“In a world like mine you try to hold onto any light that you can, otherwise the darkness consumes you whole.”
Chapter 4: Struggle
Notes:
I'm borrowing Winston from the John Wick movies as Bucky's uncle/family friend (cause he's freaking awesome and hilarious!) and Erik (young Magneto) as his right hand man (They just seem to have quite a bit in common and i can kinda imagine them getting along as they both have been experimented on by mad/sadistic Nazi scientists) :D
Chapter Text
“The darkness is in the eyes but the mind can still cherish beauty.”
- Unknown
(Seven years ago)
Darcy ended up in the Lenox Hill hospital in New York, for work experience. She was to shadow a nurse for two weeks but when things got busy she had to step back and wait in the staff room.
On the third day she was taken to the palliative care ward, some of the patients were on end of life care while others were in a coma state with no indication when and if they would wake one day.
“It has been scientifically proven that most coma patients can be aware of their surroundings and speaking to them helps them regain consciousness faster.” The nurse explained to her after seeing her confused face when she talked to the unconscious patient as she changed an IV bag. And so instead of having to wait in the staff room when things got busy she ended up reading to the coma patients instead to pass the time.
Darcy stared at the two bodyguards stationed outside the VIP room and they glared back at her so she sheepishly moved on to the next patient.
The first week the two goons gruffly and wordlessly kept anyone and everyone who weren’t medical personal out of the room unless it was for essential reasons.
An old gentleman in his 60s, with greying swept back hair, curling at the ends, who she assumed was a relative had noticed her reading to different patients. His solemn blue eyes fell on her when she exited one of the rooms close by.
“What are you doing?” Asked the man but not unkindly with a small smile, it startled her a little anyway.
“I read to help them regain consciousness faster...apparently it’s been scientifically proven to help...somewhat.” He nodded in understanding and then thoughtfully looked at the floor before glancing back up at her.
“Would you read to my boy?”
“...sure...err...for what it’s worth...I’m sorry about your son, I hope he wakes soon.” Her words seemed to tug another small smile from the older man.
“I’m a family friend, unfortunately his father didn’t make it...so I’m looking after him now.”
She didn’t know what to say, she swallowed thickly and nodded in understanding. He then turned to the two goons and told them to let her in whenever she came. And so another patient was added to her routine.
When she first saw him he seemed asleep just like all the others, face pale, unmoving on the hospital bed and yet he was still so handsome. He had brown hair swept back, smooth cheeks and full lips. His features were relaxed and seemed almost boyish. She berated herself for crashing on an unconscious patient, what was wrong with her? But then she still perhaps lingered a little longer than she should have anyway, more than with all the others.
She found herself falling for him despite her better judgement, half in love with him by the end of the week. She thought herself a fool and put it down to teenage hormones. Never really been interested all that much in boys before, they were just too stupid and too grabby. Her big brain intimidated the lot of them, too smart and too perceptive for her own age, which also got her in a fair amount of trouble but that was beside the point.
She could appreciate his good looks but she’d bet any money that he was an obnoxious little rich boy.
She questioned one of the guards about who he was one time and jokingly asked if he was some kind of prince from some foreign country, which amused them and they barked in laughter.
“No girl, he’s a King...if he ever wakes.” The last part was muttered under his breath. She was pretty sure they were talking metaphorically and it didn’t seem like they’d tell her anything else so she dropped it.
The day before her time at the hospital came to an end she saw his eyelids flicker and as she leaned over him carefully after hastily putting down the book he opened his bleary eyes and locked eyes with her, which made her gasp, she smiled and murmured to him that he was ok and safe, gently gliding her knuckles along his cheek before running out to call for a nurse.
His room then got flooded by medics and people in suits. It was much the same the next day, her last day at the hospital and she couldn’t even say goodbye but perhaps it was better this way. Besides it wasn’t as if he’d know who she was, she was no one to him.
She sighed and thought that men were only trouble anyway before walking away.
(Back to the present)
She felt his arms tighten around her and her breath came out shuddered.
“I remember...hearing your voice, your words pulling me back from the edge of the oblivion.” He breathed in deep and let it out slowly before continuing “I saw you every time I closed my eyes, sometimes it was the only thing that kept me grounded...kept me going.”
She listened to his words and her heart hammered within her chest. This was...scary and crazy and so many other things rolled into one. If he told her the same things he was telling her now under different circumstances perhaps she’d even feel flattered. She fleetingly wondered what would have happened if she didn’t walk away seven years ago, if she had stayed to say goodbye, how things might have turned out differently? He’d probably lock her up then too, she dreaded to even think it.
She had to make him see that what he was doing wasn’t right, that whatever he felt wasn’t...real. She had to stay calm, had to try to reason with him.
“James...James this isn’t right, you can’t imprison a person and make them love you. What you are feeling isn’t real.”
He went rigid at her words and pulled away from her. She turned towards him, his whole demeanour had changed, his expression an emotionless mask with his eyes cold and the muscles in his jaw clenched.
“You will need to pack, I will send a maid to assist you, we are leaving tomorrow morning to Constanta.” His tone bid no argument and as soon as he finished talking he walked away while she stood there, gobsmacked.
“If you think for a moment that I will willingly leave this country with you, you are so wrong.” Her voice low, laced with barely repressed anger. He stopped and turned partly towards her, his eyes narrowed and a small mocking smile appeared on his lips.
“We shall see.” He then turned away and left the room.
“TELL YOUR GOON to put me down this INSTANT! You narcissistic sociopath!! SON OF A …” her shouting trailed off as one of his men was finally able to pull her into the jet while she tried holding on to the side of the entrance. The whole scene was a little comical but he couldn’t help but sigh. His uncle Winston that stood besides him only chuckled and wished him good luck.
“I see it’s going well.” Erik, commented nonchalantly as they made their way into the plane.
“She’s difficult…just like everything else in my life.” His right hand man threw his head back and laughed, slapping his back with empathy. They had known each other for many years, having studied together. He looked at him almost akin to a brother and trusted him completely.
She was taken forcefully to Romania kicking and screaming on a private jet, strapped to her seat with both hands bound together, fuming to the point that she thought steam might start coming out of her ears.
She gave them a bit of a goose chase back at the building where she was held against her will, resisting to go down to the car to be taken to the airport. They managed to catch her and immobilise her though in the end.
When they did eventually to get to the airport, the couple of the personnel they came across didn’t even bat an eyelash! She was taken through a secluded part where they didn’t need to get out of the car until they were parked right by the side of the plane, they didn’t even check her passport, who knew where it was right now anyway she thought chagrined. She then was grabbed out of the black SUV they arrived in and flung across some goon’s shoulder before he carried her like a sack of potatoes to the jet. She hit and slapped his back with all her might but he was built like a rock. She screamed but no one heard or cared.
“This can’t be happening.” She muttered to herself in disbelief at her situation, strapped into her seat, completely immobilised as that bastard sat across from her with a satisfied smirk.
“Wipe that smile off your face you asshole!” she half screamed at him.
“Sometimes fighting is futile. The faster you accept the situation the better it will be for you, accept what fate has given you.”
“That is not fate, that is you!”
“Sometimes we have to create our own luck, like you said, fate is a busy lady and sometimes we must give her a hand.”
“That is utter bullshit!”
“But it is the truth.”
She looked away from him angrily, refusing to speak to her jailor.
“I’m not the monster you think I am.” his expression softened along with the tone of his voice, no longer teasing.
She refused to look at him nor say another word about how she disagreed. Everything just seemed so futile, she was so tired, having hardly slept last night, exhaustion having caught up to her, she tried to curl up in her plush seat, as much as her restrains would allow and fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 5: Constanta
Chapter Text
"The madness of love, is the greatest of heaven's blessings."
- Plato
She had been released from her bindings once the plane was up in the air.
He tried to wake her gently, his warm palm on her cheek, his thumb caressed her skin when she flinched awake, taking a sharp breath before jerking away from his hand.
“Are you going to behave?”
“Fuck you!” she muttered darkly, teeth clenched.
With a small smirk he proceeded to unbind her. Once she was free she grabbed a blanket and a pillow and went back to sleep until the food was served.
‘At least the food is good’ she thought to herself glumly.
She tried to avoid his eyes but felt them on her through out the flight.
When they arrived in Constanta there was already a car waiting for them. Not having a choice and not wanting to be carried like a sack of potatoes again she got out of the plane and into the car with all her dignity intact this time.
Throughout the car ride she looked out of the window to see where they were going, watched the scenery go past. It took a couple of hours but they had finally arrived to a remotely located mansion with a tall stone boarder around it, as far as the eye could see, with security dotted around.
Perplexed she could hear the sea.
They were greeted at the main entrance by the housekeeper and a dozen of staff. She was taken to her quarters where her things had already been assorted in the walk-in wardrobe among additional clothing, shoes and accessories.
“You can walk around the grounds freely, if you need anything just ask one of the maids.” He spoke to her gently, lingering behind her.
With her back resolutely to him and arms crossed in front of her she refused to speak to him, to acknowledge him. She could feel his eyes burning into her back for a few stretched moments before he turned and left her alone.
After showering and feeling a little bit more human she decided to explore her new cage, ‘Perhaps find a rabbit hole she could escape through’, she sighed heavily in exasperation.
With her towel wrapped tightly around her she walked into the wardrobe. Casually browsing the things in it. If she was a lesser woman perhaps she would have been impressed but all she could feel was disgust. ‘If he thinks he can buy me he’s got another thing coming’. Grabbing the clothes she owned she quickly dressed.
It was warm in Constanta, mid 20s Celsius, start of summer so she opted for a simple, royal blue, midi summer dress with a cinched waist and her white Fred Perry Aubrey trainers.
She wanted to see if the mansion had a connection to the beach as the sound of the sea earlier sounded so close. She came out onto the grand balcony attached to her room and could see the crashing waves, just fifty meters away, an intricate black metal gate leading out onto the beach and the Black sea.
Somewhat hesitant at first, she ventured out of her room. Looking around she saw stairs at the end of the hall to her right so she walked towards them. Before she could turn to go down the steps she encountered one of the maids, almost bumping into her.
“Bună ziua domnișoară.” Spoke the older woman. She seemed around her late 50s, well groomed lady with greying hair and kind brown eyes.
“Eerr...Hi?” she stuttered, having no idea what was just said to her.
“How can I help you miss Lewis?” she replied with an indulgent smile and a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh thank God you speak English!” she sighed almost dramatically and her shoulders dropped in relief, which the older woman had found amusing.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to be rude I just thought for a moment there that I wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone as I don’t speak Romanian. Sorry...” the lady chuckeled at her.
“...And you know my name, but I don’t know yours...?” she trailed off a little unsurely.
“You can call me Maria, I’m the housekeeper. How may I be of assistance to you miss Lewis?”
“Oh please call me Darcy, I’m no one important.”
“You are the lady of the house.” She stated it like it was a matter of fact.
“Whaaa?...oh my God...sweet mother...” Darcy sputtered indignantly, trying not to swear like a sailor for a moment before taking a breath and collecting herself. Clearing her throat she looked away slighly embarassed. What was the point of arguing that statement really? It wouldn’t get her anywhere as these were his people and she guessed they believed everything he said to them. But it just sounded so ridiculous to her. Not knowing what to say to that she changed the subject.
“I was hoping to see the beach?”
“Of course.” And so she followed Maria down the stairs and to the beach, memorising the path, which wasn’t too difficult. Exiting the pool area through the black gate she noticed a couple of the guards stationed around the corners.
Looking down the entirety of the beach she couldn’t see any neighbours nor any inhabitants. It was truly isolated and it made her gut clench in anxiety, but the salt air was grounding and the sound of the crashing waves was almost calming, she tried to will the panic away.
They walked languidly along the golden beach, her shoes in her hand as she felt the softness of the sand below her feet. She was a little surprised to see Maria stay with her instead of leaving her alone, the older woman also looked like she was preparing to say something but seemed to be holding back.
“I don’t know what you have been told about me…or the situation I’m in…” Darcy trailed off, wanting to know what Maria knew. Turning her head she looked intently at her, the woman sighed heavily and looked out onto the sea beyond before she spoke.
“He was such a good child.” Darcy couldn’t help the snort that sprang forth at those words.
“Well…don’t they all start out like that?” She added humorously, which made the older woman chuckle lightly, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry my dear, I can only hope that things get easier for you.” She paused meaningfully before continuing “If you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to ask me.”
She could only nod, her mind too wired to speak.
“I know it all may seem bleak, but underneath he’s a good man. If you can find it in you, despite the pain he may have caused you, please give him a chance.”
The silence stretched between them, she was a little stunned at her request. Her hands clenched her blue dress as she found her voice again.
“I don’t think I can…” she murmured looking down at the sea foam moving to and fro the sand, unable to meet the older woman’s gaze but then felt her warm hands take hers. She turned to look at Maria in slight surprise and had found her smiling ruefully at her with sad eyes, with no judgement or reproach in them.
“I understand.” She patted her hand gently before letting go. “Are you hungry my dear?”
“Starving.” She grinned, grateful for the change of topic and followed Maria back into the mansion.
She was expected to dine with him every evening and the thought of having to spend time with her jailor made her want to physically recoil but knew she had little choice. She wouldn’t even be able to lock herself in her room because he had the keys.
Sitting in the lavish garden, across a table from him that was set up for them with massive amounts of food neither would ever be able to finish, she tried to ignore him. It went on like that for a few nights but it seemed her silence was finally starting to get to him as he stared at her reproachfully.
“How long are you going to keep this up?” He goaded her and she couldn’t stop herself from reacting to him.
“As loooong as it takes.” she spoke as if she was bored, eating grapes languidly.
“Must be a little boring.”
“Oh it’s not so bad you know, think I can wait this out fairly painlessly.” voice full of sarcasm as she gestured at the food with her hands.
He signed deeply, his shoulders tense, the muscles in his jaw working, clenching from frustration. He seemed like he was looking for the right words before he spoke again.
“I just need…a little bit of cooperation from you…”
She looked at him then, the look in his eyes was inscrutable, body language neutral but what gave him away was his clenched fist, resting by his plate. It made her realise that perhaps whatever illusion he may be under for the time being she could use in her favour, against him.
She needed to form some kind of plan, perchance, eventually she might be able to manipulate him into giving back her freedom but she needed information to do that, she was in no position to threaten him as things currently stood, she knew nothing about him. So she decided to kill two birds with one stone, let him think she was cooperating and dig for information. She was good at puzzles, picking out hints, information that people thought irrelevant or held little meaning, finding patterns.
She steeled herself, she could do this.
“So you are the King of the Castle. Might as well get to know my jailer a bit. So. What do you actually do?”
“I do...business."
"James, I'm serious."
"The less you know the safer you’ll be.” She scoffed at him but the statement had told her something, this wasn’t going to be easy and it suddenly became clear that her chances of getting out unscathed were little if the conclusions she was jumping about him were in any way true.
“You can’t honestly make me believe that. You want me to accept a year long declaration then I have a right to know.” She persevered, trying to get any details she could from him, to either confirm or deny her suspicions. He seemed thoughtful for a moment before he spoke, carefully wording his answer.
“I have a few companies, businesses around the world, hotels, clubs, restaurants, which I manage. It's like a corporation and I'm the CEO.” he drawled with a slight upwards curve to his lips, knowing her game.
She smiled sardonically, rolling her eyes, she knew then that he wasn't going to give her anything concrete but perhaps he did not need to, already having said it without actually having to say it outright. She could read between the lines. The possible confirmation of what she feared made her gut clench in anxiety.
“You mentioned having to travel for work often. When are you leaving next?” she picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, trying to act nonchalant.
“Currently I don’t need to, working from home so to speak, for now.”
“This is home?”
“Yes. My ancestral home.” something about his answer and the way he said it startled her. For some reason she expected this to have been one of his many layers, perhaps it was his main base but the tone of voice he used, the way he spoke of it, held a lot of meaning, it wasn’t just pride but fondness, the way you spoke of your childhood home.
“I was born here, took my first steps here, grew up here.” He rendered her a little speechless, she did not know what to say to that, neither did she feel like sharing her own less than fond memories of her childhood. The way he looked at her then, unreadable but albeit perhaps somewhat hopeful made her heart stutter. She took a large gulp of her wine. She was too sober for this conversation. The situation just seemed to be getting worse! She did not plan to be anyone’s baby mama, ‘Christ!’
She needed to change the subject. Taking a deep breath she spoke, clenching her wine glass close in her hand.
“I want my phone and my laptop back.” She demanded.
“All will be returned to you when you are ready.” He spoke calmly, which seemed to annoy her even more.
“I feel like a grounded teenager. Unbelievable.” She ground out petulantly.
“Perhaps if you stopped acting like one I will stop treating you like one.”
“I think I’ve lost my appetite. Good night.” She quickly stood from her chair and walked off, back to her cage. She felt his eyes on her until she was out of sight.
He thought that he would be content to just to be near her, to have her close, to be able to watch her. At least at first, for a while, give her time to come round to him, he thought he could be patient, after all he had waited, had searched for her for seven years. But. The more time that went past the more he wanted her, her touch, for her to look at him, to reciprocate even a fraction of what he felt for her.
Whenever she was in his vicinity, whenever he looked at her he was always overcome with conflicting emotions. He wanted to be able to express his affection for her freely but knew he couldn't. Whenever she fought him he fought the overwhelming urge of wanting to dominate her, to claim her, to kiss her senselessly, to make her see that she was his and he was hers, and nothing would change that for him. He was not a fickle man, he did not do things by halves.
It was a rare thing for him, feeling like this, lost. He didn’t know what to do. He was raised to be self-assured, a leader, he could count on one hand how many instances in his life he’d ever felt this foreign emotion of not knowing what to do. Neither had he ever really had anyone opposed him like she has, no woman had ever pushed him away nor rebuffed him the way she was. He would give her everything she'd ever want or need if only she'd let him. She drove him crazy with anger, with lust, challenging and testing his restraint every chance she got.
She was so beautiful, a fierce woman with heart and courage, it enticed him to her that much more. He wanted to know her like he never wanted to know anyone. He wanted her to open up to him, to tell him everything, all her deepest darkest secrets that she hid, every desire she held. His nostrils flared and his fists clenched from the mere thought of her whispering to him everything she wanted him to do to her, it set his heart alight and his pulse thundering.
He signed deeply, which seemed to have become a regular occurrence with him these days, he rubbed his face with his hand.
To make matters worse his sister Becca decided it was a good time to come visit with his nephew and niece. He had missed them dearly, always, the house forever seemed emptier without them but did not think that the way things stood with his girl that it was quiet the right time to introduce her to them.
He and Becca have always been relatively close. There was a time in their life where they did not see eye to eye, grew apart, but it did not last long as they were each others only remaining family and despite the disagreements they may have had they always held onto each other. There wasn’t much that he didn’t tell her so she knew more or less about the situation with Darcy.
They were arriving tomorrow midday so that he wouldn’t have any chance to try to dissuade his stubborn sister from coming, a surprise visit.
He signed in exasperation again.
She became fond of the kind and ever-helpful staff of the extensive house. They seemed to welcome her, a foreigner, into the household without any pretence, it was like they were happy for her presence. It really baffled her. The way they sometimes almost fell over each other to help her in any way they could was a bit comical. She wondered at times though if it was just their fear of the master of the house? But they seemed so genuine and their smiles warm, it eased her solitude somewhat. Not all of them spoke fluent English but knew enough to get by and be able to understand each other.
She made it a point to remember their names and thanked them each time.
She had become a bit of a stress baker, developing this skill in the last year or so since she couldn’t hack or build programs for the time being. Needing her hands and mind occupied when she was at home she discovered a talent for it after watching the famous British TV show 'The Great British Bake Off'. It was fun to do the challenges. Baking was methodical, precise and just enough to keep her from touching anything electronic connected to the Wi-Fi. The trouble she got into prevented her from touching a computer in that way for foreseeable future but she planned to change that soon enough too, despite the step back she had to take due to her current situation of being kidnapped and forced under house arrest in a foreign country.
She signed for the tenth time that morning.
When she asked Maria if she could use the kitchen the woman was a little surprised but granted her request nevertheless. The kitchen staff observed her curiously as she worked, she was a little messy but her results were always perfect. She shared everything she made with them, they immensely enjoyed the American cherry pie. It had always made her happy baking for others.
The following late morning Maria came into the kitchen to inform her that Rebecca, the sister of the master of the house, was coming for a visit today for a week and will be arriving within the hour. It startled her a little, all she could do was nod dumbly in response. Was she expected to meet her? She hoped she didn’t have to. Trying not to think about it and what it would mean to her she got all that she needed out in preparation for her latest challenge.
She was curious to learn about some of the traditional Romanian desserts and so with Maria’s and Christina’s, the main chef, guidance she baked ‘Plăcintă cu mere’ a Romanian dessert made with a filling of grated apples, cinnamon, sugar, and melted butter, which was spread evenly between two layers of baked dough, flavoured with orange zest and vanilla sugar. It was not a typical pie, but more of a pastry-like cake, which could be eaten hot or chilled, and was typically topped with powdered sugar. She couldn't wait to try it.
As she was mixing the filling in a bowl she heard a commotion that sounded like it was heading their way, to the kitchen. She could hear kids, ‘What was going on?!’
Then she saw a little boy and a little girl around the ages of six and four run into the kitchen and greet Maria. She bent down to give them both a hug and a kiss as they spoke excitedly at her in English. The scene made her smile, they greeted her like she was their granny, it was really sweet.
Distracted by them she almost didn’t notice him coming to stand in front of her. She turned to him with a questioning look and then saw his hand come up to rub her cheek with his thumb, where she had managed to smear some of the powdered sugar earlier. He then moved his thumb to his mouth, liking it clean without breaking eye contact with her. She was unprepared, caught off guard with her walls down, her face flushed for a moment before she caught herself and hastily tried to school her expression, trying to banish the heat from her cheeks. She could never hold his heated gaze for long, she looked away, it was safer that way.
Smiling at his handy work and possibly for cracking her armour, she thought chagrined, he turned smoothly towards the new comers.
“This is Darcy.” And three new pairs of eyes turned to her and suddenly she felt very shy but managed to find her voice to greet them.
“Oh, Hello.” She tried to smile at the excited little faces in front of her, the mixing bowl still in her hands, she clutched it almost like a shield trying to ground herself.
Her eyes then moved to the other woman, who must have been their mother and James’ sister, Rebecca. She was a beautiful lady dressed in a grey business suit, in her early 30s with straight medium length dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes but not unkind. She was a little taller than Darcy and her smile very much reminded her of James.
The woman stepped forward and kissed her on her cheek in greeting, a common Romanian custom of greeting between friends and familiars, it flustered her a little.
“It’s nice to finally meet you Darcy, I’m Rebecca and these two rascals are my two rug-rats Adrian and Elena.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, I erm making some Plăcintă cu mere, hope you like it.” She said a little breathlessly, not really knowing how to carry on the conversation. It was all so weird but she needn’t have been worried because Rebecca saved her, carrying on effortlessly despite the circumstance of their meeting.
“One of my favourites.” She said kindly.

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