Chapter 9: The recurrent nightmares
It didn't take long for them to arrive at Dylan's villa. Gianna quickly maneuvered him out of the car, using all her strength to help him stumble through the front door and into his bedroom. She gently lowered him onto the bed. She sat down beside him with a calculated grin on her face.
Dylan muttered incoherently, loosening his tie. His restlessness was palpable.
"Dylan," she said in a sultry voice, her fingers lightly brushing against his chest as she began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. "Let me help you remove your clothes."
Dylan suddenly caught her hand and opened his eyes, startling her and breaking the spell of confidence she had just moments ago. He blinked frequently, trying to focus on her. "Gianna!" His voice was tinged with confusion. "What are you doing here?"
"You were drunk," Gianna purred, inching toward him. "I brought you home. Let me help you take off your clothes." Her fingers moved to his shirt once more, but Dylan abruptly sat up and got off the bed, his steps unsteady.
"It's late," he muttered, massaging his temples to fight the pounding headache. "You should leave." Despite his inebriation, Dylan wasn't entirely lost. He felt an unease crawl up his spine at her proximity.
Gianna, undeterred, inched toward him, her arms snaking around his waist. "Dylan, I want to stay here with you," she insisted. "I'll take care of you, fulfill your needs, and give you the love you deserve."
"Gianna!" he grumbled as he pushed her hands away. "Leave!"
"Why?" Gianna demanded, her heart squeezing painfully at his rejection. "Why can't you love me?"