Married To The Devil

Chapter Twenty Three

D e v i l' s D i l e m m a

It had been a few days since I'd last seen Damon. Apparently, the whole 'Clara is pregnant and it is not okay for a newborn to live without their father' lie had not gotten to Raphael and I had no idea if that was such a relief or the total opposite. It was one thing Damon being thrown into prison for a false reason. It was a whole other thing being restricted from seeing him. The thing that blow me away the most was that the restriction order against me seeing Damon was a request from Damon himself.

I'd learnt that from a police officer on my last attempt to go see Damon. My heart dropped to my stomach and ended up somewhere at my kneecaps. I was on the verge of breaking down. At a police station. But somehow, I managed to keep it all in as I nodded politely at the officer and turned around to leave.

The walk back to the mansion had involved a lot of rain pouring down and around the umbrella I was holding. I was lucky enough to have an umbrella in my purse. Sure, I could've asked for the family's driver to give me a ride but I prefered walking, considering that it gave me time to think. I thought about what I had done. But last time I checked, there was nothing wrong between him and I so what was the whole restriction order for?

For two days now, I had not tried to go and see Damon again. I had an uneasy feeling about the whole idea. And if I went I knew the restriction would still be put up and in all honesty, I didn't want to be disappointed anymore. I'd had enough disappointments in the past month or so to last me two lifetimes.

I kept asking Xavier about his brother, though. But this last time, Xavier looked crestfallen yet angry. When I asked if Damon was okay, he'd said, "I don't know, Clarabelle." Xavier ran a weary hand down his face. "Apparently, I am now restricted from seeing him as well."

At that, I didn't know if I should be sad or angry. It was so confusing as to why did Damon not want to see neither of us, Xavier and I. What had we done wrong to deserve this?

Clenching my hands into fists next to my sides, I trudged up the stairs and into the bedroom, locking myself in there.

It had been since I last saw Damon that I had any sleep at all. My eyes refused to shut closed as I stared widely at the ceiling. I thought about everything in the span of three weeks and felt like getting up, screaming and throwing things around like a lunatic. But the saner side of me just sank deeper into the conforter of the bed and decided to cry. Tears splashed down the side of my face as I thought about how it felt like to having a loving husband by my side all the time and a Mom that actually cared about my well-being. I yet had to find that Mom and I hoped she was still alive at least.

I didn't know when I had fallen asleep. But I woke up with a start, a horrified look on my face as my wide eyes interlocked with a pair of dark brown, almost black ones. I was about to scream when a hand holding a white cloth came down on my mouth, muffling my screams. I inhaled sharply and the last thing I remembered before blacking out was Xavier barging frantically into my room.

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"I might not be able to speak fluent Italian," I heard a familiar voice say as I blinked my eyes open, slowly regaining my conscious, "but I do understand the language pretty well, bastardo."

Once I regained my entire focus, I recognized the voice as Xavier's. I sat up just in time for the van we were in to go over a bump in the road and I almost ended up sprawled in Xavier's lap had not a guard next to me steadied me. I looked up at the guy that caught me through tired, slitted eyes and couldn't recognize who he was. My eyes shifted to the driver and the passanger seat where another two men in black sat. I looked down at my tied hands and it was as if a gunshot went off in my brain and I realised I was being kidnapped. But what was Xavier doing here?