The Accountant

Chapter 15 Engagement? No! Beau

Fuck! Getting shot at was a bummer. And if there was one thing she hated the most, it's being coddled.

Her independent streak was rearing its head. She had sworn to poison Dominic with belladonna if she

could her hands on one.

Two whole weeks she had been confined to this bed. The wallpapers had made her dizzy from staring

at it all day. She had memorized every pattern she could decipher, even made equations. And

answered them in different ways.

And there was one more thing that aggravated her the most. Those fucking pain killers had her

knocked out all the damn time!

She and Dominic had barely spoken, other than civilized questions -the usual good morning and good

night and how are you phrases- he made it a point to avoid her.

Well, except at night. He retired to their bed beside her only if he was sure she was fast asleep. Which

was not always the case.

She could feel his warmth as he cuddled with her gently and his deep even breaths lulled her to sleep.

But the fucker was always gone when she woke up. As if nothing happened and everything was dandy

fine. This frustrated her to no end. She wanted to know what's going on. Why was he acting like he has

KGB or CIA secrets?

Dominic's sister -bless her beautiful heart- and his mother were the only people keeping her sanity

intact. Or she would have ended screaming the roof off in her agitated and bored state.

Her goal today was to get up from their huge bed. Alone. And eat all the berries in the world like there

was no tomorrow.

Fuck you, Dominic!

But that's one of the shitty things she forgets all the time.

He doesn't want to fuck her anymore. Damn him! He was treating her like she has the plague or worse

like she was a carrier of yellow fever.

She knew she sounded like a whiny bitch and melodramatic but like she gave a damn. She had been

confined in bed for almost a month. A few more weeks and she'd be in an asylum.

Oh, she will also need to order Chinese. She was craving some steamy buns. Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Beau mentally scoffed. She changed thoughts faster than the speed of light.

Wincing, she gingerly navigated, by slow progress from the bedroom to the carpeted hallway.

The huge house was too quiet. She hasn't had the chance to explore since she had always been

confined in her room.

Dr. Lizzie Hope had been a constant companion as well and she grew fond of the shy, demure

physician. Can't help not to when the good doctor basically saved her from death's door. They became

buddies of sort and she's has helped her today by not drowsing her in pain meds. This was the first

time Beau was fully lucid since she woke up.

The only drawback was she can feel every painful twitch of her bullet wound. Fuck! It's near

unbearable.

She was gasping for breath by the time she reached the busy spacious kitchen. All activities stopped

and the maids gaped at her in shock. Yeah. Surprise.

A handsome lady in her sixty's scurried over to help her on a cushioned leather seat. She flashed her a

grateful smile while she gritted her teeth.

"You shouldn't be up on your feet, tzarina." The old lady admonished and clucked her tongue several

times. Beau presumed she was the head housekeeper because everyone was looking at the woman

for guidance.

"I'm ok. I'm sorry I didn't get your name?" She glanced at Beau while she poured her a glass of water.

She took a sip, sighing at the coldness of the drink.

"Call me Mrs. Bell, tzarina." What's with the ridiculous title?

"I am not a Russian Queen, Mrs. Bell." She ignored the housekeeper's surprised expression. "I'm

hungry. Do you have fresh berries?" Her taste buds watered imagining its sweet nectar.

"We have some blueberries and strawberries. Do you want it with vanilla ice cream?" The lady asked in

a thoughtful expression. Eager to please the young tzarina.

"Umm, I think sour cream would be best," Beau answered.

Mrs. Bell nodded and made her a bowl of creamy delight. She presented the odd combination to her

with a gentle smile.

Beau moaned at the delicious treat. Finishing it in under 10 minutes and she asked another one. Still

indulging, she remembered the buns. "Can you call for Chinese delivery? I want the hot meaty buns for

lunch." She requested.

Mrs. Bell nodded enthusiastically and ordered a maid to do it.

"Do you want me to order different varieties of berries, tzarina?" She asked eagerly. She was way too

happy to oblige her.

Beau's eyes narrowed but she answered yes. The lady was like a motherly figure and she liked her.

"Do you know where I can find Dominic?" She needed to talk to that stubborn man soon. Give him the

tongue lashing he deserves.

"He didn't tell you, miss?" Uneasiness gripped her insides. It seemed that he doesn't want to tell her

anything anymore. Screw him!

"No." Where the fuck was he?

"The tzar left on a business trip to Brazil today." Mrs. Bell gulped when she noticed the tzarina's blank

expression. A facade. Her anger was palpable. She was seething with rage and she wanted to bash his

head with a porcelain vase.

Business trip her ass. He was probably avoiding her. Perhaps he doesn't know how to end things with

her that's why he left. Well, she will finish this stupid affair for him. No more engagement too.

She lost her appetite but her stomach grumbled. The berries look great.

To hell with it! She will stuff her belly until she burst.

***

"Beau, you should be resting." Dinara licked her lips nervously. Lizzie was with her. Both unsure of

what to do.

To say that she had invaded Dominic's office was an understatement. She basically spent the whole

day in his private domain. To spite him, she has approved every damn proposal at his table. Reviewed

financial reports and sent summaries to his accounting team.

This started five days ago. She was beyond pissed at him. No calls and no texts.

But what she hated the most was she couldn't eat her damn Nutella. She was constantly on edge and

she gets riled at a drop of a hat.