After the memorable night

DANIELLE'S P.O.V

"Wake up!"

I heard the voice before I felt the tapping and I wondered who exactly could be disturbing me so early in the morning.

"Wake up!" the voice repeated.

This time the tapping was more painful and hurried. I groaned in pain as I sat up on the bed.

What do they say about alcohol?

It is said to induce inhibition loss, enhance poor decision making, and encourage impulsiveness.

So, why do we keep taking alcohol?

The answer is very simple actually. We do so because we always want what is bad for us.

I questioned my decision to ingest as much alcohol as I had last night. My regret deepened further as the rays of light, which escaped from the shielding of the curtains that covered the windows; fell on my face, causing my already banging head to split further apart in pain. Usually, the feeling of the early morning sun rays on my face was comforting, but this morning, they reminded me of the reasons why the intake of spirits should be declared illegal.

I applied pressure on both sides of my head, trying my best to reduce the pain but I uttered another guttural sound as a new wave of pain ripped through my head. I swore then and there to never consume alcohol; never again. My mouth tasted like I had drank gutter water before going to bed and I quickly ran my tongue over my teeth in an attempt to reduce the nauseating sensation of the taste.

"I said wake up!" the voice that awoke me from my slumber said again. It was such a deep and manly voice that commanded authority, causing me to jump in surprise.

I looked up at the source of the sound and I was immediately and utterly astounded by the incredible handsomeness of the man who stood before me. He was styled to perfection in a navy blue suit that was obviously tailored to fit his bodice, his blond hair which was combed back, and the Rolex on his left hand that glinted as he adjusted the cufflinks on the wrists of his shirt.

The realization that I was in a room alone with a total stranger began to dawn on me. Of course, I had made bad decisions last night; decisions which I blamed on the alcohol. I took a peek at my state of dressing under the covers of the duvet and the sight of my bare body drew out an impulse quiet cuss from my lips. After giving myself a quick mental berating, I looked back up to take a look at the creation of Aphrodite that stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at me with an intense expression on his face. I could not remember much from the previous night, but I knew that I did not regret having a steamy night with that beautiful man.

"Are you done?" the man asked.

Realizing that I must have gawked openly, I shook my head in an attempt to clear my head and focus on the situation at hand; an action that I, immediately, regretted taking as another wave of pain flooded my skull, drawing a wince from my mouth.

“I don't have the time for this.” he said staring down at me with a look that could burn a hole into the wall. The confusion that I felt was clearly written across my face as I looked up at the strange man who stood at the foot of the bed with a cool and expressionless face.

I watched as he pulled out a black wallet from the pocket of his tailored suit and ran his fingers through its contents. It was then that I was dealt the worst insult that I had ever received in my life. With a quiet and sickening thud, I watched as the paper notes dropped onto the bed's covers.

"There." He said, closing his wallet, "That is your payment for the night's activities."

"Excuse me?" I asked, shocked to my core by the implication of his actions.

"Is that too small? I did not think you were prehensile, but I guess books can not be judged by their covers." He said.

Still in shock, I watched as he opened his wallet and dropped another was of bills on top of those lying on the bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked angrily, "What do you take me for?"

"I admit we both had fun last night but I would appreciate if you did not take that as an opportunity to lust for something more. I have no interest in pursuing anything more than a one night stand." He said.

I felt extremely insulted by his statement. How dare he speak to me like I was a wanton?

I scoffed at his statement and quickly made work of lifting myself off of the bed and looking for my items of clothing which had been shed all over the room in my our passionate haste the night before; a night I would, unfortunately, regret. I hurriedly pulled on my clothes, picked up my jewelry and my purse, and choosing not to wear my shoes, I held unto them.

After I had looked around the room one last time to confirm that I had taken all of my belongings, I turned to look at the rude stranger.

"I'm done!" I spat, angrily.

"I see that" he said with uninterested tone.

I was very infuriated by the snotty bastard but I refused to leave the room without giving him a piece of my mind as I would never allow myself me humiliated so.

"You're an asshole" I said.

He looked up from his phone and he looked at me in shock.

"What did you just call me?" he asks in disbelief.

"I'm assuming you're not deaf. You did have a lot to comment on last night, didn't you?"

The expression on his face was priceless and I almost chuckled in satisfaction at the look of shock on it.

I pried my purse open and pulled out a fat wad of cash before throwing it in his face.

"There! That is your payment for your work during the night; although it wasn't worth half of the money." I said with a smirk on my face.

Storming out of the room, I headed for the elevator. Once in the confines of the electrical box, I groaned in anger, cussing out the egotistical man that I had chosen to give my body to. I blamed it all on the alcohol.

"I'm never taking alcohol. Never again." I whispered.

On getting to my hotel room, I noticed something was off; of course, it was very odd to see huge men, dressed it suits and sunglasses, standing right outside my door. I got an eerie feeling and chills ran down my spine. As one of the men spotted me, he looked at me with familiarity before tapping his colleague. They both looked at me again and the colleague nodded like he was confirming something. In that moment, I realized that my greatest fear was right before me. My father had found me out.

I turned on my heels and made a sprint for the elevator. Luckily for me, they were still a long way from the elevator so they could not reach me. The only way to catch up to me would be to go down several flights of stairs from the 12th floor and there was only a slim chance of them meeting me. I was sure that they had backups somewhere in the resort so I had to find a hiding spot as fast as I possibly could.

Once the elevator eased open, I ran outside looking for a hiding place. Almost like the heavens were backing up my escape, I spotted an SUV with an open trunk. Without thinking twice, I ran towards the SUV, jumped into the trunk and shut it immediately.

My heart was racing, my palms were sweaty and my feet stung from running down the granite road. I took deep breaths of the stuffy air in the car trunk to calm myself down and after a few seconds, I started to realize I might have made a mistake in my choice of a hiding place. How was I to get out of the trunk when the only way out was from the outside?

I started to panic and desperately hoped the car's driver would come to open the trunk. Almost immediately, the car trunk beeped and opened. I squealed in delight, causing the driver of the car to recoil in shock. I sympathized with him; I would have been shocked too to see a sweaty, scantily clad woman, in the trunk of my car.

"What's going on?" a voice asked.

I froze at the sound of the voice. I had only ever heard that voice twice and my encounter with the owner of said voice had gone from beautiful to disastrous. I hoped I was just hearing things until my fear was confirmed when he joined the driver at the trunk. I watched his facial muscles strain into a frown and his eyes grow a shade darker in anger. I must have offended fate in my previous life or something for her to keep playing dirty tricks like that on me.

"You!" he said venomously.

"Surprise!" I said in the most sickeningly sweet tone I could muster.

The driver still stood awkwardly, holding suitcases in both of his hands.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"What am I doing where?" I asked, smiling smugly when he glared.

"Get out!" he ordered.

I took my sweet time getting down from the trunk before sashaying past him with a smirk on my face, turning to the driver, and patting him on his shoulder.

"It must be very hard working for this breed. Stay strong" I said and glanced at my target to check his reaction.

His face contorted in anger, giving me the satisfaction I needed. I chortled as I walked back towards the hotel, swinging my hips for good measure.

I didn't see any of the uniformed men in the lobby as I entered the elevator. On the passage way to my room, there were no men either. I quickly swiped my key card across the lock and entered the room, giving a little victory dance.

"I thought you'd never come. I've been waiting for you"

I froze in shock as my key card slipped from my hand and gave a thunk as it fell on the floor.

"I told you, my sweet. You cannot hide forever."

My throat felt squeezed as I managed to let out whisper.

"Dad!"

Deal

ADRIAN'S P.O.V.

I stood, gazing out of the window in my hotel suite. The events of the past few hours of the day replayed in my mind, and with it came a seething anger that coursed through my veins and caused my fists to ball up.

How could one person, a mere woman at that, get the better of me?

I recalled the way in which she had insulted me and I could still feel the sting of the paper bills as they slapped against my skin.

How the hell had she dared to insult me in such a manner?

I hated the fact that she had gotten under my skin. I was not easily phased by anything or anyone, and I had never imagined that a mere woman would be able to annoy the hell out of me like that woman had.

What?

My performance in bed was unsatisfactory?

I had never received such a huge blow to my pride before, and the memory of the expression on her face when she had said that caused my ears to redden from fury. I could not even bear to digest the fact that a woman had spoken to me so rudely; the fact that a woman whose name I did not even know and whose identity I was not interested in knowing, had managed to permeate into my mind, leaving a trail of frustration and anger in her wake.

In all of my years of living as Adrian Valentino, nobody; no one, had ever dared to test my anger. But this strange woman had managed to provoke me- not once, but twice, and in such a short period of time.

Who was she?

What gave her such audacity and boldness to face me?

As I pondered that thought, I came upon a realization that jerked me out of my reverie. Suddenly, I let out an amused chuckle, nodding my head and clapping my hands in understanding as I had realized what was going on.

The strange woman's game plan, I had it all figured out. She did all that because she knew daring to do what other people had never done would make me think about her; and she had succeeded as for a little while there, the very thought of her had consumed my mind.

It was then that I also recalled how I had come upon her in the trunk of my car. I figured that she had some how found out that the car belonged to me and she had hidden herself in my trunk in an attempt to follow me back to my house so as to know my address and possibly other personal details. Her aim had been to lengthen her meeting with me and find a way to stay around me longer.

I applauded her reasoning; for a strange woman, she sure was smart. But she was definitely not more smarter than I was as her plans would fail woefully. After all, I was Adrian Valentino, and being the most sought after man in the city meant that I had seen and experienced a lot of women. Every one of them wanted to spend more time with me, most of them even wanting something more than I was willing to offer, but I did not stand for any of that. I had never, and would never sleep with a woman more than once; that was the rule and principle that I lived by.

The strange woman might have tried to come up with a devious scheme to break my rule, but that was not going to be possible. I would ensure that she would never have any access to me, never again. Reaching for the intercom on my table, I dialed the number to the hotel manager's office.

A few minutes passed before I heard a gentle knock on my door.

"Come in!" I invited.

The door opened and turned in time to see, James, the manager walk into the room.

"Good morning, sir!" he greeted, bending slightly in a bow.

"I need you to do something urgent and important." I said.

"What would that be, sir?" He asked, looking at me with a mix of curiosity and alertness.

"I need a name to be blacklisted from the hotel's guest list."

As the owner of the prestigious hotel, I had a reputation to uphold and I could not afford for a crazy wanton woman to roam about my premises, soiling the image which I worked hard to build. I instructed James to find out the identity of that woman and make sure that her name would never grace our guest list again. The audacity which she had shown by daring to insult me was highly unacceptable for me, and by blacklisting her name, I was very assured that whatever attempts that she had would make to maneuver her way into my life would be in vain. I never spent my time with the same woman twice, and she would be no exception.

A knock on my door pulled me out if my reverie and my valet, Drew, peeked his head into the room.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Your dad just called, sir. He says you should come to the estate immediately as he has something important to discuss with you." He said.

"Okay. Get me my driver." I said and watched as my assistant closed the door behind him.

After my driver had been summoned, I strode out of the hotel lobby with Drew trailing by my side. When we arrived at the old mansion in which I had been born, grew up, and made many memories, fond and otherwise, Drew alighted the car quickly before making his way to open the door for me. The house was busy with activity as maids moved about tending to one thing or another. In the distance, I could hear my mother, Alvida's voice, delivering orders to the servants and I would normally go to greet her, but I could not afford the detour as I had more pressing matters to settle.

Instead, I focused on my pathway, making my way through the grand hallway with my footsteps echoing against the marble floors. Soon, I was pushing, open, the heavy doors that led to my father's study. Behind his massive mahogany desk, he sat, with

an air of authority which I had grown up to identify, surrounding him.

"Adrian," he said in acknowledgement of my presence, his tone measured.

"Father?" I said while pushing the doors to a close.

"Your day?" He asked.

"Not as well as I'd hoped, yours?" I asked.

"It's going quite well." He replied.

"Good for you." I nodded curtly.

"I guess." He said.

"You have something to say, don't you? You called me here because you did, did you not?" I asked.

I sounded rude but I did not care. I and my father rarely had touchy feely conversations; our relationship was built differently than other father son relationships that I had heard of. Whenever we had to discuss something, we always went straight to the point as we both did not believe in wasting precious time; time was money, after all- and we both enjoyed making our money. Watching him beating around the bush was very unsettling, and I had a bad feeling about what it was that he called me home for.

He sighed, a fatigued expression crossing his face as he said, "Sit down, son. We need to talk."

Need to talk?

Now that was another unsettling thing that had ever come out of my father's lips. We never 'needed' to talk; we only ever spoke to one another whenever we wanted to, and that was very rarely.

I took a seat, my curiosity growing by the second. What could possibly be so important that my father had to have that uncharacteristic expression on his face?

When he finally spoke, my father's words shattered every appearance of control that I had.

"Adrian, you're getting married."

On hearing his statement, the room seemed to spin as the words registered in my mind.

Married?

The very thought of it was unbelievable and absurd. I stood up from my chair immediately, knocking it over in my hurried anger.

"Absolutely not! I won't have it, Father."

He looked at me with a stern gaze, his eyes hardening.

"Listen, Adrian. This isn't a request. It's a necessity. It is your duty to this family."

I felt a surge of anger and rebellion rising within me.

"I will not be getting married. That plan that you have contorted in your head is not going to work." I said angrily.

"Adrian! I am your father, and you will listen to me, do you hear me? You can not defy me and you can definitely not be rebellious, not under my roof." He said.

"Then I'll take my rebellion outside your roof." I said and made to leave the room, but then he uttered those words that froze the blood in my veins and stopped me in my tracks.

"Your inheritance is on the line."

Heartache

DANIELLE'S P.O.V

30, 31, 32, 33,...

I counted from the car window as the trees passed by in a blur. It had always baffled me; the way the trees seemed to be the ones moving instead of the car. I was no physicist so I registered it as one of the numerous wonders of the world. Although the internet recorded only seven wonders, I believed the world had more mind-blowing, as well as, inexplicable events and sites that should have also be considered wonders of the world.

I was sited in the back seat of Dad's SUV while he sat across from me, typing away on his tablet at the same time as he made and received seemingly endless phone calls, as usual.

Work, work, work; all my dad ever did was work. It was so frustrating that sometimes all I wanted to do was to scream in his face. I wanted to tell him to just take a goddamned break from all of the work, but I knew that he would just remind me that the reason why he worked so exhaustively was because he wanted to secure my future. I believed that there was a very thin line between my father, the man who always doted on me and made sure that I lacked nothing, and Jack Dawson, his workaholic alter ego.

After the shock of seeing him in my hotel room had subsided, I had become angry. My mood changed from shock, to fear, and from fear to anger very fast. I honestly had not expected less from him as I knew that he would have caught me eventually. I just did not expect him to show up so soon; he should have at least, afforded me that courtesy.

I looked at him, watching as his hands flew across the tablet's screen. Jack Dawson was definitely at surface at that moment and as usual, his work was at the centre of his attention, leaving no space of thought for me. I sighed and turned back to the window, deciding to continue the activity which I had engaged myself in to alleviate the boredom and ignore the stifling silence; counting trees.

Where had I stopped counting from?

I did not remember so I started counting all over again.

57, 58, 59, 60....

"Do you have nothing to say to me?" Dad said, his question disrupting the silence.

Apparently, he finally had some time away from his busy schedule to engage me in a conversation.

"Am I supposed to say something?" I asked in confusion.

"That is a question you should answer yourself" he said.

He looked at me with that stern expression he used whenever he was in the process of scolding me.

"I don't know what you expect me to say"

I was even more confused. What exactly did he want me to say?

"Why did you run away?" he asked.

"Why do you think I did?"

"I asked a question. Stop answering my questions with questions" His eyes narrowed onto slits when he spoke.

I rolled my eyes at him and turned back towards the window.

"Do you plan on running away anytime you're faced with a challenge?" he asked.

"You call this a challenge, dad?" I asked in disbelief.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Danielle" he said. It was his turn to roll his eyes.

"I am not being dramatic, dad. A challenge is deciding what to wear to work early in the morning, that is a challenge. Getting married to a complete stranger is not what you call a challenge; clearly, you and I have different definitions of what a challenge means. And any lady would run away from home if they were being forced to get married, especially to a man they do not know." I said angrily.

"Any lady in her right senses would not pass up the opportunity of getting herself married into a prestigious family" he argued.

"Then we'll both have to agree that I am not in my right senses." I said.

"Grow up, Danielle."

"I do not want to marry, Dad. And even if I did, I would want to be married to someone that I love. Someone I know!"

"This is the twenty first century. Things don't go that way anymore" he said.

"Arranged marriages aren't the rave anymore either. Everyone has a right to choose to marry for love."

"You don't need love in a marriage, Danielle"

"Did you love mum?" I asked him.

Something flashed in his eyes as I mentioned my mother; we never talked about her. Dad turned towards the window on his side of the car.

"You'll learn to love him" he said.

"I don't want to learn to love a total stranger after marriage." I said angrily.

"You're getting married, Danielle, and that's it. It's not up for debate and I don't want to hear your opinion on this matter anymore." he said with a finality that I could not oppose.

"There will be an introductory dinner tonight so you two can get to know each other. The groom's father will be there, as well as myself."

I turned back towards the window on my side of the car. I was so angry that my heart beat unsteadily and my hands shook. I folded my arms to keep them from shaking but I eventually had to unfold them to wipe away the angry tears that trailed down my cheeks.

Jack Dawson was a dictator, and in that moment, I wished my loving dad would surface. After a few hours of tense silence, the car pulled into our driveway and I got out immediately. I headed for the front door but dad's voice stopped my movement.

"Your make-up and wardrobe team are scheduled to be here by five and dinner is by eight"

I continued my movement towards the house, thinking he was done.

"And Danielle?" he said, halting my movement to the door.

"Yes?"

"Be on your best behavior."

I stormed into the house and as I shut the front door angrily, I did not bother wiping at the tears that fell down my face on the way up the stairs to my room.

AS SCHEDULED, the makeup and wardrobe team rang the doorbell by five o'clock. The next two hours were spent dolling myself up for my betrothed; a man that I had never seen.

I was usually happy with the process of being dolled up but that evening, I could not find the energy to be elated. Once they were done, the team left my room and I was finally on my own. My freedom didn't last long, however, as a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in" I said.

A uniformed housekeeper entered the room.

"Your father sent for you, ma'am. Your guests have arrived"

"Thank you, Rosie. You may go." I said, dismissing her

"Welcome, ma'am"

I rubbed my sweaty palms on the dinner dress and after a few minutes of catching my breath and steadying myself, I headed downstairs. From the top of the stairs well, I could hear my Dad greeting the new arrivals and before I descended down the stairs, I took in a deep breath of air.

I prepared myself to meet the two strangers, however, on entering the dining room, I realized that one of them was not as unfamiliar as I had thought.

I knew that I looked very beautiful that night, but I was just as sure that my beauty was not the reason behind the shocked expression on the face of one of the men sited opposite my Dad at the dining table.

"Danielle, this is Adrian Valentino, your husband to be, and Alfredo Valentino, his father" I faintly heard my dad introduce, but I was too busy trying to comprehend the cruel twist of my fate to listen to what my father was saying.

What was the snotty bastard of a one night stand from the resort doing, sited in my house?

"You!" I heard him say at the same time that I did.

"Do you two know each other?" I heard a male voice ask.

I turned towards the voice and found myself looking at the older version of my one night stand. They looked so much alike that it was difficult to argue that they were not blood related.

"We do not!" we said at the same time, again.

His eyes glinted with what I could only describe as disdain, and I knew that my own expression mirrored his.

"This marriage cannot happen" I said.

"Danielle?" I heard dad say sternly.

"I refuse to go through with this marriage" I repeated.

"Danielle!" dad raised his voice.

"I agree with her, Mr Dawson. This marriage can not take place" the rude bastard said.

"What are you two talking about?" his father asked calmly.

"I'm sorry for her outburst. Please, excuse us" dad apologized and signalled with his eyes for me to follow him.

"I am not sorry. I will not marry this man; I refuse to even breathe the same air as him." I maintained.

Suddenly, I felt fingers wrap around my arm. I looked up to see that it was Dad just as he pulled me out of the room and dragged me up the stairs to his study. Once we were on the room, he shut the door behind him and turned on me.

"What was that about?" he asked angrily.

"If that is truly my groom, I want nothing to do with this marriage" I answered.

"What is it about him? What do you have against him?" he asked.

How was I to tell my father that the man he wanted me to marry was an egotistical idiot that I had spent a passionate night with while I was on the run from the news of my arranged marriage?

"Nothing", I chose to say.

"Danielle, I warned you. I told you to be on your best behavior"

"I can't do it!"

"Why are you so hell bent against this marriage? Why do you choose to make this exhausting?"

"You're the one making it exhausting. I am your daughter, not your employee. You can not tell me what to do or not to do especially when it affects my life" I yelled.

Dad sighed and massaged his temple.

"I have my reasons for doing this. I have my reasons for rushing things" dad says.

"What are those reasons. I have a right to know"

"Danielle..."

Dad hesitated, rubbing his palms and sighing sadly.

"What, dad?"

He looked at me with an expression that I could not place, right before dropping a bomb on me.

"I'm sick, Danielle... I'm dying"