Day and Night | ✓

Chapter 10 - Edited ✓

Angelo Deluca's POV

I groaned. The pain in my head was excruciating; I kept my eyes shut even though my body was now fully awake. I don't remember much, but I know the whisky I drank last night hit me harder than I initially thought it would. I rolled over onto my back; I was still wearing my suit, the tight material making me even more uncomfortable in my hungover state.

I try to remember what exactly happened last night, but all I remember is thinking about my father's birthday next week, and that's when it gets hazy, I remember taking out my drunken frustration on the coffee table, but that's all I can remember. I manage to open my eyes slowly, the bright light not helping my headache what so ever. I look down at my hands, and as I suspected, they were both covered in small lacerations. Shit that was a beautiful table, nice one dick.

I led in bed for a while and just stared at the ceiling, I knew I had to sort my shit out I was the CEO of one of the biggest companies in London, and I was currently led in bed in a crumpled suit feeling sorry for myself. I glanced over at my clock; it was a little after mid-day; I knew I couldn't go to the office like this. I was lucky that my meetings for today started at 3 and I could reschedule them for a better time when I didn't feel like I had been trampled on by a stampede of elephants.

My mind drifted to Harper as it usually did when I found my thoughts wandering, then it hit me. Shit, I was meant to meet her last night at Opal. I remember telling her that I'd see her later on when her shift started, but I never showed up. I felt guilty that I'd left her there all night without an explanation as to why and seeing as the reason I hadn't shown up was because I got drunk and blacked out my guilt was more intense.

I slowly sat up to try and limit the pain I was feeling in my head, I needed to shower and then reschedule my meetings for the day and then think of what I was going to tell Harper.

The warm water of the shower helped ease the effects of the hangover but something still didn't feel right something at the back of my head that didn't make sense. My fragile mind was trying to tell me something, but I was either too stupid or too tired to remember, then everything clicked into place. I had a dream last night that in itself was an oddity for me.

I never had dreams well, not ones that I could remember not even as a child. However, last night was a first for me, and the dream happened to be about Harper. Something didn't feel right about it all seemed too real; I could almost feel her arms around me. I brushed it off; it was just a dream.

Walking back into the bedroom and throwing on a shirt and joggers I went to find my phone; I silently prayed that the penthouse wasn't trashed I already had a £500 coffee table to replace because I decided to get drunk and turn into an emotional wreck. I walked into the living room, and I had to blink a few times nothing, there was absolutely nothing wrong with the living room or the kitchen. The only thing out of place was the empty frame of the coffee table that was now upside down in the corner of the room.

I found my phone and thankfully it was still in one piece I had a few missed calls from some of the board members, but I could handle them, all I needed to do was pretend that I had spent the night planning more ways for the company to make money and they'd leave me alone. After a brief conversation with one of the receptionists explaining that I wouldn't be in today and that my meetings needed to get rescheduled I could finally relax, I sat down on the sofa and closed my eyes, hoping that the pain in my head would subside.

My mind drifted back to the dream I had of Harper , for some reason my brain had made it appear that she was with me last night , the thought made me cringe. There was no way in hell that I would ever want Harper seeing me in a state like that even If It was just the dream version my drunken mind conjured up. Something still didn't feel right, the images of her were to real, and if I concentrated hard enough I could almost smell her perfume, I was either extremely desperate, or my tolerance for alcohol had gone entirely out the window.