Ann’s POV
I don’t know if the loud banging of my head woke me up or the loud ringing of my phone which I can’t find on the side drawer where I usually place it before sleeping.
After roaming my hand around the drawer, lazy to get out of bed, I finally sit up, glancing around for where the sound is coming from.
Suddenly, my eyes land on a man sleeping next to me.
A shrill cry leaves my mouth before recognition settles on my face.
Vince.
The shock on my face is instantly replaced with confusion when I remember how drunk I was last night.
Did something happen? Why is he in bed with me?
I stare down at my clothes in horror, only to find them in place. The things missing are my shoes and jewelry. He must have taken them off.
I snap my head to his sleeping figure. Vince has never slept beside me, not in the same bed, but here he is, sleeping so soundly like a baby.
Was he drunk too? I don’t remember him drinking. He seems like someone who doesn’t drink at all after I offered him a drink and he rejected it.
A smile tugs on my lips when he tosses closer to my side, giving me a clear view of his face.
He looks really innocent when sleeping. And carefree. And goddamn handsome. His long, sharp nose complements his sharp jawline. His facial hair is well-trimmed and styled, leaving a rich stubble behind.
My gaze moves to his thick eyebrows, reminding me of his small eyes.
An unconscious smile leaves my lips again before I find myself trailing a finger over his straight thick hair.
I weave my fingers through his hair softly, enjoying the feeling while daydreaming about how different everything would have been if we were not in this situation.
How wonderful it would have been if this is not a backward sided relationship. How it would feel if I had met Vince, fell in love with him and had him fall in love with me before we eventually got married. It makes me wonder what a romantic, intimate relationship with Vince would have been.
No matter how long I think about this or imagine what difference all of this would make if we were not accidentally married, I always remind myself not to lose guard.
I remind myself that this is temporary. And Vince would never love a woman like me.
If I was truly married to him, it would be impossible to get an annulment like his mother mentioned. Now that I think of it, I want to desperately ask him if this applies to me too.
Since we both know this is temporary from the start, it shouldn’t affect me, should it?
I recall asking him about an annulment the other day but he never replied.
Should I ask him again? What about the title of his Mafia queen? What happens to that when I am gone? What fate lay ahead of me after a life with Vicente?
Will I ever get to find another man so simple like him? Or a man who would love me just the way that I am.
Two sets of eyes flutter open to meet my dreamy gaze and I sit upright quickly, letting my fingers drop from his hair.
Shit!
I turn to see him glancing around in confusion. When it dawns on him, just like it did on me a while ago, he sits upright and grabs his jacket to leave but I hold him back.
“Where are you rushing to, Vince?”
He avoids my gaze but sits back on the bed. “Nowhere.”
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” He replies back calmly, not sparing me a single glance.
“Did something happen last night?” I demand from him and he shifts his gaze to me, surprise flickering over his expression with the confusion still there.
“What do you mean?”
I shrug indifferently. “I woke up to see you sleeping next to me. I’m curious…”
“Nothing happened,” he mutters quickly before getting up again. “I should go.”
“Wait.” I stop him again.
He stares at me for a couple of minutes before I pat the seat next to me for him to sit. A sigh leaves his mouth but he obeys anyway.
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes before I mention. “You slept soundly like a baby, Vince.”
He doesn’t answer.
“No nightmares, right?”
He stiffens. This must be what he has been trying so hard to hide from me. But I know what it means to have nightmares and why people find it hard to talk to anyone about it.
I’ve been there before.
The nightmares kept coming. Nightmares of Carter raping me over and over again till I stopped breathing. Or nightmares of Isaac shooting my mother and me after assaulting us both.
They were scary. It made me lose sleep for so long. They felt so real like it was going to happen eventually.
“I’ve been in your shoes,” I inform him, glad to be saying this to someone for the very first time in years. “I’ve had nightmares like yours before. They were scary.”
“I don’t…”
“You don’t need to hide from me anymore, Vince. Well, unless you don’t trust me but I know I haven’t done anything not to win your trust since I got here. You don’t need to feel vulnerable because I caught you struggling in your sleep.”
He remains silent but from his hardened expression, I know I hit the nail on the point.
“That day, I was mad at you but I figured out you didn’t want to show that side of your life to me. But it’s fine. You’ve seen me in my lowest, Vince. You’ve seen the most vulnerable part of me. I don’t feel embarrassed about anything with you anymore so you shouldn’t either. You can talk to me about anything.” My heart melts at the look he darts my way.
Soft.
With a glimmer of fear.
My worried expression searches for him. “Do you want to talk?”
He shakes his head after a moment of hesitation. I nod in understanding but still I don’t feel relieved to be doing this. I wish he can spill so I can comfort him.
“Can I hug you?” I ask, when his eyes flicks to mine.
He doesn’t respond and I don’t intend to wait for him to do that. Gently, I weave my hands under his arms, wrapping them around his strong body before moving closer and hugging him with my head on his chest.
There is a loud pounding coming from his chest. It makes my eyebrows dart up in curiosity.
“Ann?” He calls my name and I glance up at him. “I’m fine. I should head to work now.”
He seems really uncomfortable and it triggers my angry nerves.
“I have a question to ask you, Vince,” I say to him with determination. This is the time to ask.
He urges me to go on with a nod.
“Your mom mentioned something to me the last time she visited. I just want to confirm how credible it is.”
“What is it?” Interest flickers in his eyes.
“Mafia Queen,” I point out. “I know it comes with a lot of responsibilities but I didn’t know one thing. I heard a Mafia Queen can’t demand for a divorce, is that true?”
He looks thoughtful for a while as if debating whether to tell me the truth or not. After a while, he shakes his head. “No!”
Intense relief washes through me.
Why did she tell me it was impossible? Was that to scare me?
“Really?” He nods. “Wow. I’m so relieved.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he replies back sharply, his gaze cold.
I furrow my brows. “Why?”
Before he can answer me, my phone starts to ring again, cutting through the silence of the room.
I pick up the phone without letting my eyes off his face. But when I see the name flashing across the screen, my curiosity is replaced with the loud pounding of my heart.
“Ryan.” He spells out with obvious venom. Just before I can pick, the call gets disconnected and starts to ring again.
“Mark?” He demands with an extremely loud voice filled with surprise.
Well, I am surprised too.