"You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit."— Oscar Wilde
It was around 10 pm when I finished up my vocational preparations, Olivia had come down to the hall, throwing tantrums for not getting any sleep.
"How about we watch Mickey Mouse?" I asked ruffling her curly hair.
"I'm a big gal now, mama. I don' watch all thay,"
"Of course, you are," for an unknown reason my sarcastic remark seemed to offend her in some way.
It was when we sat on the sofa to watch a movie, the bell rang.
"You wait here, alright? I'll get the door,"
While I wondered about the potential dangers associated with opening doors at night, the bell rang again.
Taking my own sweet time I opened the door, only to find myself gaping at the tall man in front of me.
"Close your mouth, Im getting the wrong idea," his silky voice spoke.
"What are you doing here?" an acrimonious tone welcomed Mr. Morreti at the door step.
"Is this how you exchange endearments, I'm flattered." He kissed my cheek without any warning.
Italian men and their characteristic felicitations.
"Mama, whose it?" Olivia asked, genuinely concerned.
Talk about bad timing.
A sudden panic grabbed me, for a moment I underwent momentary paralysis the minute he proceeded towards Olivia. Near the main door was a wooden shoe-rack; a flat screwdriver was only what came into my sight.
"What is your name, principessa?" he kneeled and gently tucked few strands of hair behind her ear.
"Olivia, wha's yours?," she eyed the unknown man doubtingly.
Both of them looked at my direction with a raised brow, expecting for an answer.
Without a fleeting second, I hid the screwdriver behind my back and grinned. A disposition such as that definitely roused suspicion.
I gave Olivia a stern glance, signalling her to go to the bedroom.
She did without question.
"I wasn't informed you had a daughter," Mr. Morreti sounded genuinely surprised.
"I wasn't informed you were prying to become more than just a business accomplice," I posed a question in response, meanwhile managing a direct eye contact with my feet still on the ground.
"Where's your husband?" he questioned with concerned eyes.
"Don't have one,"
"Well, that's a relief."
His right hand tugged my arm while the other grabbed my wrist painfully, consequently making me drop the object that I tightly held behind me.
"Your intentions aren't to kill me, then why," in his beautiful face gathered a relatively disturbing look.
"Ask me no questions and I'll tell no lie, Dante ," I torturously slid a finger across his tanned sinewy neck as I spoke in a sultry tone.
Mischievous grin approached my features when a muscle in his jaw twitched.
"That's the first you called out my name," he gripped my waist, drawing me closer.
I run my fingers through his glossy jet black hair, carelessly playing with the disheveled locks.
Our eyes glinted with strong desire playing along an entirely pointless lie.
On the other hand, our circumstances doomed upon us the abhorrent grounds which stood amid us.
I pushed him away.
Surprisingly effective unlike other times, "if I were you, i wouldn't throw myself off-guard just to slake the itch down my pants,"
As I strode towards the kitchen, the handsome man followed me in silence. Apparently, his eyes scanning everything around. It felt as though he was figuring the floor plan of my cottage.
"The Berlin Philharmonie is holding a grand orchestra concert this fortnight, to which you would accompany me," He proclaimed breaking the ice.
Before I made attempts to protest, he coolly added, "I saw you had lunch with a friend of yours few days back, hmm, on Wednesday if I remember correctly...,"
I knew very well what he was implying at.
"Do you not have anybody else? I'm sure women throw themselves at you," I asserted with scornful eyes that hardly withered him by demanding for an answer.
It sounded rather personal than intended and Mentally cringed at myself for not putting minimal efforts to think twice before I spoke.
"I shall exploit you the way i desire, Nohra,"
There was more to the words he uttered, more than he intended.
"Then, that's all i am, an object of your desire," a strain in my voice braced the dissapointment i felt,
Why have i started to feel this way?
"I'm not in position to jeopardize a crucial surgery for the sake of revelry, Mr. Morreti," I tried negotiating despite an urge to kick him in the balls.
"I was never left with a choice, either,"
Reasoning with this man irritated me. It drained into futility regardless of innumerable attempts to drive at a bargain.
Taking a step forward to where I stood, his hand held my chin, the rough pad of his thumb slowly caressing my jaw.
He paused for a brief moment and then murmured, "why does it have to be you?"
I was taken aback by the unanticipated rhetorical question. My eyes searched for answers in his, only to find guilt repleted in them.
So to speak, vengeance burdened a being when the heart and mind confuted one's intentions.
Mr. Morreti towered above me, strong hands barricading an escape at either sides from where I stood.
Hungry gaze fell into the exposed areas of my skin suddenly making me conscious about the loose tank top hung upon my lanky body.
His leg inched between mine, and an irresistible compulsion grappled internally. I bit my lip to suppress the inherent carnal appetency that longed for committing a sin.
A little press from his knee was plentiful for me to feel my own pulsating core.
Ostensibly, I tried to squeeze my thighs shut surmising it for the better, only it worsened the evident arousal.
A soft moan escaped me when I felt his leg move against my aching loin while long fingers mindlessly skimmed across my waist, peering through the waistband of pyjama pants that I wore.
He was tormenting me to give up.
Although, It was quite sinister to silently appreciate our shameless efforts, I knew better than to submit to bodily pleasures.
He leaned closer to kiss which I simply dodged by looking away in spite of the undying chock-full temptation.
Disapproval hurt Mr. Morreti's massive ego, exasperation visible on his face. In a fraction of seconds he regained composer, careful not to loose his calm.
Composed men were far more threatening than loose canons.
"You disgust me" I spitefully gave him the cold shoulder
He cocked his head and questioned, "oh, i am surprised."
"Dante...," I winced at the sting his tight grasp rendered on my bare arm.
The grip slackens and soft lips brush past my earlobe, divulging lecherously, "I know you want it. You want it the most embarrassing way, it's written all over your face,"
Needless to say that such blunt supposition and the strong scent of his minty cologne made me swallow a lump. Inhaling a shudderingly deep breath, i caught myself unable to think right because of the coiling tension.
Yet audacious enough to mock him,
"You would run the old gypsy woman in the street out of business with your competence to foretell,"
My was voice heavy with sarcasm and lip-quivering sincerity.
"You say all that while you are awfully drenched," he smirked.
Annoyance seized me, no longer was I capable to endure his luscious appeal. Advancing straight towards the door, I held it open, "now if you will?"
He chuckled at the scowl settled on my face as he moved out of the door.
"You have a beautiful daughter, Dr. Krüger,"
"Don't you dare," I threw him a dirty look.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not as immoral as your father," Mr Morreti's grimace was unduly obvious despite his polite temperament.
I shut the door behind me with a thud, a nauseating apprehension premised my nerves. He was nothing but a hazard symbol, only I was unreasonably careless near him.
The engine of his expensive car roared; inordinately audible. Gradually disappearing into stillness.
On entering the bedroom, I found Olivia sound asleep. Words would do no good if I had to describe how rueful I felt for having her caught up in my mess.
Perturbing thoughts soon lead to me an absurdly pirouetting blankness, my tired body implored for repose.
Closing my eyes I succumbed to its request, darkness had a vague tranquility about it and although momentary, felt everlasting.
The following morning saw me dropping sad Olivia to nana's house. She wasn't happy about me leaving her for a month and half with them while I had to spend my time away alone.
We sat in silence, I tried initiating little conversations between us except her responses were in mere syllables.
When we reached I told Olivia about all the fun she could have since her cousins were coming over too. Although, that didn't make her feel any better.
In moments later, Nana was out of her elegantly built cottage at the whirring of the vehicle's engine at wooden gates that pretentiously safeguarded the house.
The cottage was fearsomely archaic. It was embowered with vine and other creepers, making it look picturesque like one of those old Victorian homes found in ruins.
She stood at the entrance in her usual outfit, holding a basket full of red apple. Her gentle smile made it evident that she was more than happy to have us there.
Olivia refused to enter the house and clutched onto my arms tightly. Nana somehow seemed to convince stubborn little Olivia to forgive me this one time, and help her into making some apple cedars in the farmhouse.
I thanked my grandmother for understanding without providing an elaborate explanation about the trouble I was in.
She assured me that I needn't worry about Olivia. However she did ask me to care of myself because of the visible bags under my eyes.
She engaged me with a short conversation on skin care and the antioxidant properties of apple cedars. As well as, its necessity for women particularly my age and position.
Whatever we spoke about, always ended up in 'warning' me to be careful; "the dangers of being a single mother is an inevitable one," she would say.
I was uncertain about where she was getting at nevertheless managed a decisive nod.
It was disheartening to leave Olivia behind for over a month. It was unimaginable how lonely in her absence. My responsibility, nevertheless retained on keeping her safe, even if that meant away from me.
There were days we thought we couldn't make it, yet here we are making a life worth living through after all those days.
This was just one of those bad times.
After few a moments of family beguilements, I dithered on second thoughts while taking heavy steps towards my black chevy sedan; parked awkwardly near the wooden gates.
Half heartedly I dropped onto the seat and clutched the steering wheel. My head drooped slightly but I tried not glancing at the adjacent seat where my daughter often sat.
"If only....," I wished.
It was useless to reconsider. I shook my head in an effort to put aside any other thoughts that would be enough impulsion for me to put everything at stake and stay alongside my daughter.
Nearby an Oak tree swayed under the touch of cool breeze, worried birds paced around their nests, while an alerted snake, gliding at some measurable distance on a thick knotted branch preyed on the eggs.
Tough situation, a little family was at stake.
We were in the same situation, only for us the world unfolded as a predatory snake.