HIS DAME

Chapter 29

Greetings sweet people....
How are you?

This chapter is dedicated to shazameena (my honeybunch 🍯)

Please ignore the typo mistakes

Enjoy!!
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"Uhmm~... aaah."

The sound broke through the silence, pulling Hermione out of a half-asleep daze. Blinking in the dim morning light, she glanced over, only to find Nedvar beside her, his brow damp with sweat, murmuring in his sleep. She rolled her eyes as he murmured, "Uggh, Mia~~," his lips twitching into a smirk even while unconscious.

Hermione checked the clock. Six in the morning. Of course, he would choose now for whatever dream he's having. Trying to slide away quietly, she felt his arm tighten around her, pulling her back to him.

"Nedvar!" she hissed, finally calling his name sharply in his ear. He jolted awake, eyes wide, instinctively reaching for the gun on the nightstand and pointing it toward the door.

"Relax, mafia king," she muttered, shaking her head. "You'd think I was the one in danger."

Groggily lowering the gun, Nedvar looked at her, confusion melting into a lazy grin. "Mia, you'll be the death of me," he murmured, voice thick from sleep, his eyes glinting with the remnants of whatever dream he'd been having.

Hermione, still half-annoyed, half-amused, raised an eyebrow. "Exactly what were you dreaming about?" she asked, a trace of menace in her voice.

"Nothing..." he replied, suddenly evasive. But as she tried to leave, he caught her wrist, pulling her back toward him, his face a little too close to hers, his lips grazing her cheek before she could react.

"Nedvar," she whispered, a little thrown, feeling the heat between them despite herself. His hand traced her face, his fingers lingering on her lips. For a brief, unexpected moment, she found herself lost in his gaze, his grey eyes locking onto her with an intensity that made her heart race.

She was about to say something when a small, worried voice cut through the moment.

"Dada!"

The urgency made them both sit up, Nedvar reaching the door in an instant. Outside, Ethan's tear-filled eyes looked up at him, tiny fists clenched as though bracing himself.

"Oh, Ethan." Scooping him into his arms, Nedvar felt his chest tighten at the thought of his son's tears.

Watching them, Hermione's expression softened as she reached over, gently pulling Ethan from Nedvar's embrace and cradling him close. "Shhh, it's okay, bubba," she whispered, stroking his hair. "Mama and Dada are here."

Ethan sniffed, looking up at her, still a little shaken. "I thought... I thought you left me," he whimpered, voice catching.

Hermione held him closer, murmuring, "I'd never leave, baby. I promise." She exchanged a glance with Nedvar, who nodded subtly, his own expression shadowed by memories she didn't fully understand. Hermione remembered Sienna mentioning that both Nedvar and Ethan had...abandonment issues, though she hadn't yet asked him why. But one day, she would, she thought, knowing that it was a part of him she wanted to understand.

They both sat with Ethan until he was calm, then headed down for breakfast. The mansion was now filling with soft morning light as everyone gathered in the dining room. The kitchen smelled of freshly baked bread and herbs as Hermione prepared a hangover soup, stirring it thoughtfully, her mind still drifting back to that moment with Nedvar earlier.