His Love

Chapter 34

Annabelle's POV
"PUT HIM DOWN, MIKAEL!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the room.

Mikael glanced at me with lifeless eyes and released the man, letting him fall to the ground. The man groaned, rubbing his head. "I told you everything I know," he muttered, exasperated.

"So, your boss is meeting my daughter about dresses?" I knelt before him, my tone sharp but measured.

"Yes," he whimpered.

"And do you know why your boss is showing her dresses?" my husband, John, asked as he entered the room.

"She's going to a dance. Rebekah called in a favor," the man stammered.

"Thank you," I said with a tight smile.

"My mischievous daughter," Mikael sneered. "No doubt it was that bastard's idea to get your child a dress."

"When is this dance?" I asked softly, maintaining my calm.

"It's in a week," he gulped, his voice trembling.

I reached out, cupping his face gently. He closed his eyes as though seeking comfort. "Where is it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Some college... I think Tulane ," he replied.

I kissed his forehead lightly, his breath hitching at the gesture. Standing, I looked at Mikael. "Get rid of him."

The man scrambled to his feet, panic written all over his face. "Please, I told you everything! Please, don't do this!" he cried, running toward us in desperation.

John turned me away, burying my face into his chest. I heard a sickening squelch and glanced back to see Mikael's hand thrust through the man's chest, holding his heart. Blood poured from the wound as the man's lifeless body crumpled to the floor.

I bolted from the office, nausea overwhelming me. Outside, I doubled over, vomiting the bile that had risen in my throat.

John followed close behind, his voice filled with anger. "Why did you have him killed?"

I straightened, wiping my mouth. "I had to. What if he told his boss? This might be our only chance to get her back," I said darkly.

John pulled me into his arms, wrapping his hands around my waist. "I understand you want her back as badly as I do, but we can't become monsters. How will she recognize us if we turn into the very thing she's running from?" he whispered into my ear.

I sighed, pushing him away gently. "I told you when we found out your witch had been captured that we would be doing things my way," I said coldly, meeting his gaze.

A sharp cough drew our attention. Mikael stood in the doorway, his expression impatient. "If you're done with your petty argument, it's time for us to deal with the abomination," he sneered.

⸻

Klaus's POV
"Bloody hell, Rebekah, how much longer is this going to take? I want to see Tara," I grumbled, slumping in my chair.

It had been over twenty minutes since the last dress fitting. We were on the first floor of the compound, a curtain blocking my view of Tara.

The designer emerged from behind the curtain, his flamboyant energy palpable. He was a medium-sized man with a French accent, dressed in tight leather pants and a black sequined shirt. His six-inch hot pink heels clicked against the floor as he beamed.

"I call this ma fleur d'amour," he announced dramatically.

Tara stepped out, her cheeks flushed as she caught my gaze. My breath hitched.

Her hair was swept up, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. The wine-red, form-fitting dress hugged her body perfectly, the slit on the side revealing her striking legs. The dress stopped at her ankles, paired beautifully with gold heels.

"Nick! Tara is calling you!" Rebekah snapped.

I shook myself from my daze. "Yes, my love," I said, standing.

"Does it look okay?" Tara whispered, her voice uncertain. I could hear her heart skip a beat as she fiddled nervously with her hands.

I stepped closer, towering over her. "You look gorgeous," I said, my voice soft but firm.

The tips of her ears and nose turned red as she tried to hide her smile.

"Get a room!" Rebekah teased, pretending to gag.

The designer clapped his hands, grinning. "Perfect! This is the dress, oui?"

"Yes," Tara and I replied in unison.

"Come, let's discuss the other dresses I'll be asking you to send in the next few weeks," Rebekah said, dragging the designer away.

⸻

Tara's POV
"I'm going to change," I told Klaus, quickly retreating behind the curtain.

The moment I was alone, I placed a hand over my racing heart, taking a deep breath to steady myself. The zipper on the dress was stuck, and I realized I needed help.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, I called, "Klaus?" My voice echoed, but there was no response. "Klaus?" I called again, stepping out.

He wasn't there. I sighed, turning to go back when I felt a sudden breeze behind me.

"Need help?"

I spun around, startled. Elijah stood there, his expression momentarily stunned as his eyes traveled over my dress.

"Y-yeah," I stuttered, moving my hair to the side.

Elijah stepped closer, his hands steady as he grasped the zipper. Slowly, he pulled it down to just above the clasp of my bra.

I turned to face him, smiling shyly. "Thank you."

As I turned to leave, Elijah caught my arm.

"Wait," he said softly. "I just wanted to tell you—you look beautiful."

His hand lingered on my arm, and I felt the tension build between us.

"What's going on here?" Klaus's cold voice broke through the moment, cutting like a blade.

I turned to see Klaus standing a few feet away, his expression unreadable but his eyes filled with a storm of emotions.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!
Tara parents dare coming for her. What do you think will happen when they realize she doesn't remember them? Please vote and comment it encourages you to write more!