All Chapters of The Billionaire’s Broken Angel… and His Darkest Desire: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Maya knew something was wrong the moment she saw the rental car parked across from the Tidewater Inn. Black sedan. Tinted windows. Engine running. It had been sitting there for twenty minutes, exhaust curling into the cold March air like a warning she should have heeded months ago.Her hands froze on the serving tray she'd been carrying to table four, the coffee cups rattling against each other. That old familiar terror—the kind she thought she'd left behind in Brooklyn—crawled up her spine with ice-cold fingers. She'd been in Moonlight Cove for eight months now. Eight months of building something real. Eight months of falling in love with Declan, of making friends, of transforming her grandmother's inn into something magical. Eight months of believing she was finally safe.The car door opened, and he stepped out.Even from across the street, even though she hadn't seen him in almost a year, Maya recognized the way Marcus moved—predatory and precise, like a shark circling wounded prey

Maya's lungs burned as saltwater filled her mouth, the ocean dragging her down with hands that felt almost deliberate. She'd survived everything else—him, the loneliness, the slow rebuild of her shattered life—only to drown three hundred yards from the shore where she'd finally learned what safety felt like. The irony would've been funny if she wasn't dying.Above her, the storm-dark water churned, and she could see the distorted shape of the Tidewater Inn through the waves—her inheritance, her sanctuary, her prison of secrets. Six months had become seven, then eight, and she'd stayed because leaving felt like betraying her grandmother all over again. Now the Atlantic was claiming what she'd fought so hard to keep.Then strong arms wrapped around her chest, and she was being pulled upward with a force that felt like violence and salvation tangled together.They broke the surface, and Maya gasped, choking on air and brine. She knew those arms. Knew the broad shoulders that blocked out

The fire at the Tidewater Inn wasn't an accident.Maya knew it the moment she saw the orange glow against the night sky from three blocks away, her heart already shattering before her mind could catch up. She'd been at the town council meeting—fighting for the historical designation that would protect the inn from developers—when her phone exploded with notifications. By the time she reached Harborview Drive, the entire east wing was engulfed in flames that licked hungrily at the October sky, and all she could think was that her grandmother's legacy was burning while she watched, helpless.And that Ethan was inside."ETHAN!" The scream tore from her throat as she broke through the police barricade, but strong arms caught her around the waist, hauling her back. She thrashed against the grip, terror giving her a strength she didn't know she possessed. "Let me go! He went back in for the guest register—someone has to—""Maya, stop!" Sheriff Coleman's voice was sharp in her ear, but she b

The confession room at the county jail smelled like industrial cleaner and desperation. Maya sat across from the man who'd tried to kill her twice, separated by bulletproof glass and a lifetime of carefully constructed lies. But this time, David wasn't wearing the mask of the charming boyfriend or the wounded lover. This time, his face was stripped bare, and what she saw there made her blood run cold—not because it was monstrous, but because it was terrifyingly human."You came," he said, his voice hollow through the speaker. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his hands trembled as he pressed them flat against the metal counter. "I didn't think you would.""I came for answers," Maya replied, her voice steadier than she felt. Beneath the table, her fingers found the edge of the letter he'd sent—the one that had arrived at the Tidewater Inn three days ago, written in the shaky handwriting of a man coming undone. There are things you need to know. Things about why I became what I am. Yo

Maya stood at the edge of the cliff behind the Tidewater Inn, watching the sun rise over Moonlight Cove for what felt like the thousandth time—and the first. Six months had passed since that phone call in Brooklyn, since she'd arrived in Maine broken and running. Six months since she'd met Ethan Cross, the handyman with storm-gray eyes who'd taught her that not all men who saw her scars wanted to add to them.But knowing something and believing it were two different things."You're up early." His voice came from behind her, rough with sleep and achingly familiar. She didn't startle anymore when he appeared—hadn't for months now. That was progress, her therapist had said. Trust, measured in the absence of flinching.Maya turned to face him, her heart doing that treacherous flip it always did when she saw him. Ethan stood barefoot in worn jeans and a henley, his dark hair mussed, a mug of coffee in each hand. He'd learned how she took hers—two sugars, splash of cream—the way he'd learne