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Angela ShynaOh no😱
ANGEL Standing behind me. Daniel. His grey eyes bright with amusement. Blood on the suit he’d worn for our wedding. Bullet holes that should have killed him, that did kill him, that couldn’t have killed him because he was here. That smile. That unhinged, crazy smile that said he knew something I didn’t. “Miss me, Angel?” I spun around. Nothing. Empty bathroom. Marble tiles gleaming under the bright lights. No one there. My breath was coming too fast, too shallow, black spots dancing at the edges of my vision. I blinked hard and inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with air that tasted like antiseptic and soap. Snap out of it, Angel! I slapped my cheek twice. Hard enough to sting. He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s dead. Vincent killed him. I watched him die. I turned back to the mirror. He was still there. Closer now. Right behind my shoulder. His lips near my ear, close enough that I could have sworn I felt his breath. “I told you I’d always come back.” His voice was a
ANGELThe doctor finally approved my discharge.I was healed to some reasonable extent, at least from the bullet wound. The stitches in my palm had dissolved, leaving behind a scar that would fade with time—a permanent souvenir of my own stupidity. But I was far from fine.Something was wrong. It had been eating at my sanity for the past days, gnawing at the edges of my mind like a rat trapped inside my skull.Physically and psychologically.One of my concerns was that something was wrong with the baby.It should have been easier to ask the nurses—they came and went often enough, checking vitals, adjusting my pillows, and giving me their usual professional smiles. The problem was that I didn’t want to say anything with Daddy nearby.And Daddy was always nearby.He hadn't left the room since we arrived. Sleeping in that uncomfortable chair by my bed when he slept at all, which wasn’t often. Watching me with those dark, intense eyes that tracked my every movement like I was prey that
ANGEL The beach house was exactly as I remembered it. Salt air filled my lungs and waves crashed somewhere in the distance, a rhythmic lullaby that should have been soothing but felt off-key. I was standing in the living room, the place where Daniel had proposed. How did I get here? I looked down. The wedding dress! I was wearing the wedding dress again, the fabric heavy, dragging against the floor, and pooling around my feet. I tried to move. My feet wouldn’t cooperate. “DID YOU REALLY THINK A FEW BULLETS WOULD STOP ME, BABY GIRL?” My heart stopped. I knew that voice. Knew it in my bones, in my blood, in the deepest parts of me. I turned around slowly. Daniel was standing in the doorway. His grey eyes glinted in the dim light, possessive and utterly unhinged. My blood ran cold. “You’re dead,” I whispered. “Daddy killed you. I watched you die!” “Did you?” He cocked his head, curious. Amused. “Are you sure about that, Angel? Are you sure about anything anymore?” He ste
VINCENT She looked like she was sleeping. That’s what I told myself as I sat beside her hospital bed, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Just sleeping. She was only resting after a long journey. Any moment now, she’d open her eyes and smile at me and everything would be okay. It was easier than the truth. The truth was that I’d watched my daughter put a gun to her head. I’d had a split second to make an impossible choice—and I’d made it. I’d shot my own daughter to save her life. My bullet through her hand instead of hers through her skull. Her hand was bandaged now, wrapped in white gauze that was too clean for the violence it concealed. The bullet had gone clean through, the doctors said, but there’d been no permanent damage. She’d heal. She’d be fine. She’d be fine. I kept telling myself that, over and over, like a desperate incantation against the darkness that kept threatening to swallow me whole. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw it again. Her face,
ANGEL . . .‘I’ll love you until he comes.’ I’d said that once. In the dark, wrapped in Daniel’s arms, believing it completely. Believing that my love for him had an expiration date I could control. No one told me that when the moment came, my heart would cave in two. One half dying with Daniel. The other diving toward Vincent. I was losing both of them. I was losing myself. Daniel stared at the ring in the sand. At the blood spreading across his chest, dripping down onto the pristine white grains. His gaze found mine once again. And he smiled. “Okay,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Okay. I understand now.” He reached into his jacket—Vincent’s men tensed, weapons raised, shouts filling the air—and pulled out another gun. Smaller. A backup piece he’d kept hidden. Another shot fired from Vincent’s direction. A half scream tore from my throat as another red flower bloomed on Daniel’s chest, it seemed Daddy was determined to destroy his heart. Daniel staggered, his knees b
ANGELI didn’t think it would feel like this.Seeing Daddy.His face.His eyes.The pain in them. The fury and love all tangled together—everything I’d buried came rushing back like a wave I couldn’t outrun.He was here.It had worked.The final guest I’d whispered to Tianna about. I’d taken the risk in that resort bathroom while Daniel’s guard was down, he’d thought it was simply a jealousy confrontation. He never could have guessed that I’d told Tianna to contact that number. I told Tianna that I wanted to surprise my fiancé by inviting an old friend of his and threatened her not to tell Daniel about it and ruin the surprise.I’d done it. Betrayed Daniel with a smile on my face and his ring on my finger. I used every scrap of trust he’d given me—this beach trip, and the lowered defenses of a man drunk on love—and I’d weaponized it against him.But I didn’t expect this.I didn’t expect to feel like I was being ripped in half.Vincent looked older. Harder. The lines around his eyes w
ANGELHe stepped back, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his sleep pants. He pulled them down slowly.His cock sprang free. Hard. Flushed dark. The head swollen and glistening with a bead of precum that caught the morning light. Heavy. Thick. Curving upward slightly like it was reaching for
ANGELI kissed him back. Tasted him. He growled into my mouth and the kiss turned feral — teeth and tongues and fury. . . Something underneath that was starving.He pressed me further onto the couch and his weight came down on me. His hips landed between my thighs and I felt him — hard, straining,
ANGEL I was washing my hands when the bathroom door swung open behind me.I looked up in the mirror and saw him—the man from the booth. He was standing in the doorway of the women’s restroom with that confident smirk, his eyes already moving down my body like he was unwrapping a gift he’d bought
ANGEL Dinner was my idea. “Can we go out tonight? Just us? Like we used to?” I’d asked. He’d agreed and I’d nearly squealed. This might as well be our first date, he just didn’t know it yet. The last time we had dinner alone in public, I was still a kid. And afterwards I’d hated seeing Jillian







