Lovers Of The Night

11: Odette is awake

Chapter 11: Odette is awake

The first rays of dawn were beginning to peek through the curtains when Odette finally stirred. Her eyelashes fluttered open, revealing her emerald-green eyes. She blinked, her gaze focusing on the ceiling before slowly shifting to her surroundings.

She was lying in Tom's bed, the sheets warm and comforting against her skin. She turned her head, her gaze falling on Tom who was seated by her side, his hand still holding hers.

"Tom?" she murmured, her voice hoarse. "What... what happened?"

Tom looked at her, relief washing over his face. "Odette," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "You're awake."

Odette nodded, trying to sit up. Tom immediately moved to help her, his hands gently supporting her. "You fainted," he explained, his voice steady. "You had a fever and you were dizzy."

Odette frowned, trying to recall the events before she lost consciousness. "I... I remember feeling dizzy," she said, her voice weak. "But I don't remember fainting."

Tom gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're alright now," he said, his voice soothing. "That's all that matters."

Odette nodded, giving him a small smile. "Thank you, Tom," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "For being here... for taking care of me."

Tom returned her smile, his gaze soft. "Always, Odette," he said, his voice sincere. "I'll always be here for you."

And with that, they sat in silence, the morning sun casting a warm glow over them. It was a new day, a new beginning. And they were together, ready to face whatever the future held for them

                              *Time skip*

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, there was a sudden knock on the door. Tom and Odette turned towards the sound, their conversation interrupted. Tom rose from his seat, moving towards the door.

Standing in the doorway was an old man, his face lined with age. He was dressed in a simple butler's uniform, his posture straight despite his years.

"Good morning, sir," the old man greeted, his voice respectful. "You have five gentlemen here to see you. They are waiting in the drawing room."

Tom looked taken aback. "Five men?" he echoed, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Did they give their names?"

The old man shook his head. "No, sir," he replied. "They only said it was urgent."

Tom nodded, his mind racing. Who could these men be? And what could they possibly want? He turned to Odette, his gaze filled with concern. "I'll go see what this is about," he said, his voice steady. "You should rest."

Odette nodded, giving him a small smile. "I'll be fine, Tom," she reassured him. "Go see your visitors."

With a final nod, Tom followed the old man out of the room, leaving Odette alone. As the door closed behind him, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Who were these men, and why were they here? She could only hope that whatever it was, it wasn't trouble. 

                               *Time skip*

As Tom descended the grand staircase, his heart pounded in his chest. He could see the five men waiting in the drawing room, their expressions serious. As he stepped into the room, their gazes turned towards him, their faces familiar.

"Carlo," Tom greeted, his voice cold. He turned to the next man. "Josh." Then the next. "Rafael." And the next. "Ivan." His gaze finally landed on the last man. "And Vlad,I can't believe you still alive"smirks

The five men were silent, their gazes locked onto Tom. They were all brothers, each one bearing a striking resemblance to Vlad, their eldest brother. Tom felt a surge of anger at the sight of them. He had hoped to never see them again, yet here they were, in his home.

"Tom," Carlo began, his voice calm. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Tom asked, his voice icy. "What could we possibly have to talk about?"

Carlo exchanged a glance with his brothers before turning back to Tom. "About Vlad," he said, his voice steady. "And about the past."

Tom's anger flared up at the mention of the past. "The past is in the past," he said, his voice filled with bitterness. "There's nothing to talk about."

Carlo sighed, his gaze filled with regret. "Tom," he said, his voice soft. "We can't change the past, but we can make amends for it. And that's why we're here."

Tom was silent, his gaze hard. He didn't want to hear their apologies, didn't want to relive the past. But he knew he couldn't avoid this conversation. Not when they had come all this way.

"Fine," he said, his voice filled with resignation. "Let's talk."

_________

As the tension-filled conversation continued in the drawing room, a soft sound echoed from the grand staircase. All eyes turned towards the source of the sound, and there, descending the staircase, was Odette.

She was dressed in a simple nightgown, her auburn hair cascading over her shoulders. Her emerald-green eyes were bright, her face glowing in the soft morning light. She was a vision of beauty, and all men in the room couldn't help but stare.

Tom noticed their gazes, his anger flaring up. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice sharp. "Your attention, please."

The men quickly turned their gazes back to Tom, their faces flushing slightly. Odette reached the bottom of the staircase, her gaze falling on the men in the room. "Tom," she said, her voice soft. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to get some water."

Tom nodded, his gaze softening. "Of course, Odette," he said, his voice gentle. He turned back to the men, his gaze hard. "We'll continue this conversation later. For now, let's give Odette some space."

The men nodded, their gazes dropping to the floor. Odette gave Tom a thankful smile before moving to the kitchen to get her water. As she left the room, Tom couldn't help but feel a surge of protectiveness. He wouldn't let these men, or anyone else, harm Odette. Not while he was around