Bella's POV:

I woke up feeling sick to my stomach. On top of that, I had a severe headache and my stomach was grumbling. I ran towards the washroom and puked my guts out.

My whole body began to shake. I sat down on the bathroom floor, breathing heavily. I didn't understand what was happening to me. Then I felt like someone threw the cold water on me and I remembered drinking beer with that bastard.

"If he had told me I am going to feel like death in the morning I wouldn't have drunk that beer," I muttered.

After gaining some senses back, I got and cleaned up. The warm shower helped my headache. I came out of the bathroom and noticed glass on my nightstand with the note.

I picked the note and read it aloud. "Drink this when you wake up, it will help with a hangover."

I removed the lid from the glass and drank it in one big gulp to avoid throwing up again.

Instantly, it calmed down my body. I sighed and got changed.

I peeked my head out of the room and went down. I heard the music playing in the kitchen and made my way towards it.

Then I saw him working in the kitchen making breakfast. I knew it was Tristan and not Nate so I decided to leave when he turned to me.

"Good morning," he mumbled, looking nervous.

I frowned, thinking about why he would be nervous in my presence.

"Good morning," I replied in monotone.

Tristan stared at me making me uncomfortable.

"Where's Nate?" I asked him.

"He didn't come home last night," he replied turning back to the stove.

I nodded and turned to leave when he grabbed my arm.

"The breakfast is going to be done soon. No one is at home except you and me. You can eat here if you or you can take the breakfast to your room," he said.

My heart began to beat faster hearing his deep voice first time without venom. He spoke softly to me like I would get scared if he spoke any louder.

I nodded my head and he removed his hand from arm then went back to cooking.

I sat down on the stool, watching him prepare breakfast like a professional chef.

He was wearing a white V-Neck cotton shirt which was clinging to his muscled body perfect with the grey trousers. He was tall, a few inches taller than Gabriel. His brown hair looked wet like he had showered a few seconds ago.

"Did you drink the tea that I left in your room?" He asked me.

I was shocked by his question. I thought Nate made it for me.

"Y...yes. What was it?" I asked him.

"It was just a ginger tea with some lime and honey, it cures the hangover," he told me serving the egg and toasts to me.

He waited for me to take my plate to my room but I stayed in the stool. He sat down across me with his breakfast.

He kept peeking at me like he waiting for me to explode. His actions were clumsy and he looked scared.

I didn't understand what I had done.

"Did I try to murder you last night or something? You look scared," I snapped.

He muttered something then took a sip of water.

"You're insane, why would I feel scared of you?" he asked, looking at his breakfast to avoid the eye contact.

I continued to eat giving him suspicious looks. He didn't say anything until we were done eating.

He picked up my plate and threw it in the dishwasher.

I didn't understand what was happening and why was he not yelling at me or getting angry with me. I didn't understand why I wasn't feeling disgusting looking at him?

"What happened last night," I asked him.

He went stiff and looked at me.

"You don't remember?" He asked.

I was suddenly anxious because I didn't want to show him that I have no memory of last night except drinking the first beer and blabbering something incoherent.

"I...I got drunk," I told him.

He sighed and rubbed his head.

"You got drunk then went to bed. Nothing happened last night that's worth remembering. The men will be coming back home so you better go to your room and lock it. I'll send Nate to your room when he would arrive," he said.

I was confused about the sudden change in his attitude. He went from being nice to cold and angry.

"Thanks for the tea and breakfast," I said, turning around and leaving.

When I reached the stairs I heard the sound of something breaking and ran back to the kitchen. I saw Tristan holding broken glass in hand while his hand was bleeding profusely.

He looked stagnant, staring at the space.

"What the hell happened?" I asked him, touching his arm to get his attention.

He looked at me and his face softened.

"Nothing happened, go to your room," he said, looking at the mess and cursing.

He threw the broken glass in the trash can and put his hand under the running water in the sink to wash off the blood. A few seconds later, he pulled his hand out but the blood didn't stop dripping from the cuts.

He grimaced in pain. I snatched the towel from the counter and wrapped it around his hand.

"Thanks. Now go to your room," he told me gently like he was tired.

"You might need stitches. The cut looks deep and bleeding profusely," I told him.

"I'll do the dressing and it will be fine," he said.

I was angry because he was acting like a conceited tool.

"Are you fûçking kidding me? This is not going to heal with dressing. You're not a fûçking doctor!" I yelled.

He stared with his mouth agape.

"Call someone and go to the hospital," I told him.

"I can't go to the hospital," he told me.

"The bleeding isn't ceasing. Do something, Tristan!" I yelled in panic, watching the blood drip from the towel.

"Calm down, I am calling the doctor," he said grabbing his phone from the kitchen counter and talking to someone on the phone while I tried not to puke.

The sight of blood on the floor and kitchen counter was making me dizzy. I picked another kitchen towel and threw it on the floor.

"Don't you dare to clean it," he shouted making me jump.

"I was just covering it. I can't watch this much blood, it gives me flashbacks of some bad memories," I told him.

A few minutes later, a bell rang and I opened the door. I lead the doctor to the kitchen where stupid Mafia boss was sitting with a hand injury.

The doctor glanced at the broken glass and grimaced.

The doctor removed the towel from his hand and began and to access his wound.

"Can I get a clean bowl with some water?" He asked me.

"The bowl is in that cabinet," Tristan told me.

I fetched the bowl and water then watched anxiously as the doctor cleaned his wound.

"You need four stitches," the doctor informed him.

I glared at him and he stared at me.

His eyes were pulling some strings of my heart, making me feel concerned and sympathetic for him.

We stared into each other's until the doctor cleared his throat.

"The stitches are done," he told us.

"Thank you, doctor," I said giving him an appreciative smile.

"Here's the medicine that he needs to take, These are painkillers and these tablets are to prevent any infection. I'll come to change the dressing tomorrow," the doctor said handing me the prescription.

I walked with him to the door and came back to the kitchen to find Tristan cleaning the mess.

"Are you insane? You just got stitches and you are cleaning the shattered glass again," I said in annoyance.

He grabbed my arm and pressed me on the refrigerator, breathing heavily.

"You need to stop talking," he mumbled.

"I am just trying to knock some senses into your stupid head," I told him.

"If you wouldn't stop talking I might kiss you," he told me.

I sucked in a sharp breath and gently removed his hand from my arm.

I didn't want him to kiss me and get close to me because he wasn't the man I had fallen in love with. He wasn't my Gabriel.

"I'm going to stay quiet and help you clean this mess," I told him.

We silently clean the kitchen and threw the towels in the trash can.

"I'm going to my room," I said anxiously.

I didn't know what has changed Tristan but he appeared like a different man.

He nodded and I left the kitchen.
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Hello, lovelies!

I hope you like this chapter and vote.

Cavolo: Crap

So do you have any idea why did Bella use this word?

What's Gabriel's plan?

Published:25-Feb-2107

Thanks for reading 😘😘