Ezra wants Aine. His soul, his mind, his heart and everything. And she plans to stop at nothing to get the notorious playboy.
Aine, irresistibly sexy and handsome millionaire, the typical bad boy that no parents want their daughter to bring home. Gu...
The desire to be loved is the last illusion. Give it up and you'll be free. ~ Margaret Atwood.
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My head felt heavy as if someone was drilling pins on it and a bile rose in my throat and my throat were dry.
It was pitch dark and silent. I struggled to open my eyes and too tired to continue a struggle, I kept still.
Indescribable voice were heard and with each word they spoke my head pounded. My eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
The room went silent as if they finally realised that I was awake.
"Mr. Luca. Can you hear me?" The doctor questioned.
"Of effing course. Y'all are literally yelling" I replied in my mind since for some reason, I wasn't able to speak or open my eyes.
"I see. If you can hear me, please furrow your eyebrows twice please" The doctor said.
What? Furrow my eyebrows. This is childish.
"Mr. Luca?!" The doctor yelled.
Argh. If it would make him shut his mouth then I'll do it.
I furrowed my eyebrows twice. I heard some foot shuffling and then the room became silent.
A familiar scent hit my nostril and i immediately realised who it was.
"Good morning Mr. Luca!" The doctor greeted.
My father.
Without opening my eyes I could tell that he just nodded with a stern eyes on me. He was always that kind. Strict, professional and inapproachable to everyone yet sweet, full time protective father. Must have missed the part where I was his son.
"How's he?" I heard his stern strong cold voice. "There is a response from him. So he must be waking up soon" The doctor said gladly.
Oh man! You're the only one who is glad. My head started aching once again but this time so severe and slowly I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.
I open my heavy eyes with so much strength only to meet with a blurred white ceiling. I try to get up when I heard a shriek.
I turned towards the noise to find the nurse as she frantically pressed the button calling for the doctor. I held my head glancing at the flowers on the table, couch, floors and even on the balcony.
Makes me feel like I m in my own funeral. I look at the nurse again and she immediately understand and came rushing to my side and presses the button on my bed.
Doctors in white coats and nurses in scrubs walk in and started interrogating me.
"That's good. Seems like you're out of the concussion and there is no memory loss" the doctor turned the torch off.
