CHAPTER 9 - When Dreams and Nightmares Collide.

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A Dream That Feels Like Reality

Nora sat cross-legged on her bed, her fingers tightly gripping the duvet. Her lips twisted in frustration as she replayed Rose's words in her mind.

"Shouldn't she be happy for me? Isn't that what best friends are supposed to do? Support each other?"

She snorted in disbelief.

"Nonsense! I hate her."

With a dramatic huff, she threw herself back onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. The anger inside her bubbled up, refusing to settle. Seeking a distraction, she reached for her phone from her small bag and opened Instagram.

And that's when she saw it.

Her eyes widened at the flood of notifications, the screen filled with hateful comments and tweets, each one mocking her devotion to Dave.

A slow smirk curled at the corner of her lips.

"Lol, what the heck!"

So, they thought they could intimidate her? That they could shame her into giving up on the one thing she had chased for years?

They clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.

Cracking her fingers, she settled into a more comfortable position, ready for battle. One by one, she began typing her replies, her sharp words laced with venom and wit.

Dave's First Wife: "Life is full of lies. Get up and stop lying to yourself. You're Dave's first wife? Then go find a man who actually wants multiple wives, and be his first. Your wish will be fulfilled."

I Love Dave: "At least I can declare my love for him in person, unlike you—hiding behind a pen name. Idiot."

Forever With Dave: "Forever with Dave? But you're just a leftover. A leftover he doesn't know exists—and never will. Chuckles emoji."

Dave is Mine: "I am. Thank you. It's pathetic how you're claiming someone who doesn't even know you. He wouldn't dare to."

Dave's Younger Sister: "Fantasy much? His younger sister? Really?"

Dave's Only Wife: "Oh, is that why you're using 'Dave's Only Wife' instead of your real name? I pity you. Sigh emoji."

Don't Touch Dave: "Always? You never could. That's a fact."

Marry Me, Dave: "As if he'd stoop so low. Seeing you would make him go blind. I don't want my poor baby's eyes to suffer."

Be Mine, Dave: "He knows me. He doesn't know you. Stop asking for someone who hasn't even seen you before."

Dave's Biggest Fan: "Advise yourself first before advising others."

Dave's First Love: "I can make him stare at me anytime. Girl, I have what's called beauty."

With a final flourish, she posted one last taunt:

"You guys haven't seen me yet. Don't worry, I'll post my picture with Dave soon. Take care."

Satisfied, she logged out, tossing her phone onto the bed. A smug chuckle escaped her lips as she stretched her arms above her head.

"Idiots. They have no idea."

She flipped onto her side, pulling the duvet over herself as she whispered dreamily, "I'm getting married to Dave soon."

Her eyelids fluttered closed, visions of a wedding veil and Dave waiting for her at the altar filling her mind.

Tomorrow, she would wake up one step closer to making her dream a reality.

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A Moment of Silence Before the Storm

Meanwhile, at the Trump Estate, Dave stepped into his room, his movements slow and unhurried. The air was still, save for the faint rustle of fabric as he shrugged off his suit jacket and undid the first few buttons of his shirt.

Without hesitation, he made his way to the bathroom.

Minutes later, he emerged, steam billowing behind him, a fresh scent clinging to his damp skin. Dressed in a black bathrobe, he ran a towel through his tousled hair, his sharp eyes casually scanning the dimly lit room.

His gaze landed on the couch.

The memory surfaced instantly—Nora sitting there earlier, her eyes wide with anticipation as she watched him eat. She had barely touched her food, too absorbed in his every movement.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

It had been years since someone had stared at him like that. Not out of fear. Not out of admiration for his power.

But out of something far more foolish.

Obsession.

His fingers twitched as he shook his head, amusement flashing briefly in his eyes.

"Pathetic."

Tossing the towel aside, he walked into his dressing room, returning moments later in black nightwear. He settled onto the bed, leaning against the headboard as he grabbed his laptop. Within seconds, the screen illuminated, casting a soft glow on his face as he immersed himself in work.

Then, a buzz.

His phone vibrated on the nightstand, multiple messages flooding in.

Curious, he reached for it.

And the sender's name made him pause.

Nora.

His thumb hovered over the screen before he lazily clicked the messages open.

"Hey, Mr. Dave."

"Have you slept?"

"This is Nora."

"I got your private number from Grandfather."

"I want to sleep right now."

"Good night."

"Mr. Dave, I dream of you every night."

"I hope one day, my dreams will come true."

"Sweet dreams."

Dave exhaled slowly, debating whether to ignore her.

But for some reason—perhaps because it required less effort than dealing with her in person—he typed out a simple response:

"Sweet dreams."

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A Scream in the Night

Miles away, in the dense darkness of an uncharted forest, the wind howled through the towering trees. A woman moved cautiously through the thick foliage, her footsteps barely making a sound against the damp earth.

She was dressed in black, her silhouette blending seamlessly with the night. The only sound was the steady rhythm of her breathing, measured and controlled.

Then, she stopped.

Ahead of her, a man stood shrouded in shadow, his presence eerily still. His face was obscured, but there was no mistaking the quiet menace in his stance.

For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. No words were exchanged.

And yet, in that silence, a deal was sealed.

The woman took a deep breath, then turned on her heel, vanishing into the darkness as quickly as she had come.

The man lingered for a moment longer before stepping back into the shadows.

And just like that, the night swallowed them whole.