Angela's POVWhen I step inside on Wednesday, the café is buzzing with life—cups clinking, quiet murmurs of conversation, and the hum of the espresso machine blending into the background. It’s not the kind of place I imagined myself working when I started my career, but the informal setting makes the client feel more at ease. Or so I thought.“I don’t see why this even matters,” the client snaps, his tone sharp enough to turn heads from nearby tables.I take a calming breath, steadying my voice before responding. “Mr. Dawson, understanding this clause is essential to your case. It will—”“I hired you to handle it, not waste my time with explanations,” he interrupts, his disdain cutting through the air like a knife.I press my lips together, suppressing the sting of his words. He’s been rude from the moment he sat down, dismissive of my efforts and unwilling to cooperate.Before I can muster a response, a voice interrupts from behind me—deep, familiar, and unmistakably commanding.“Per
Angela's POVThe office is nearly silent as I pack my things that evening, the hum of the overhead lights the only sound in the otherwise empty space. It’s later than usual, but the long hours feel worth it. Today had been productive, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m building something meaningful.As I sling my bag over my shoulder and step into the corridor, I glance toward the conference room near the corner. The lights are still on, spilling a warm glow into the hallway.Michael’s still here.I hesitate for a moment, debating whether to check in, but decide against it. He’s likely in the middle of something, and I don’t want to disturb him. Instead, I head for the stairwell, my thoughts shifting to the evening ahead.The air is cool as I step outside, the city alive with its usual nighttime energy. I wrap my coat tighter around myself and start walking toward the nearest bus stop.“Angela.”I freeze at the sound of his voice, low and unmistakable.Turning, I s
Angela's POVLyle stares at me, frozen, his eyes wide as if my words have finally broken through the shell of his confidence. For a moment, I wonder if he might walk away, but then he speaks.“I thought…” he begins, his voice soft, uncertain. “I thought you were perfect for me. I thought we both knew that. All these years, Angela, haven’t you been thinking the same thing?”His words are like a slap, equal parts laughable and infuriating.I let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”He frowns, clearly thrown off by my tone.“Someone might be perfect for you, but that doesn’t matter if they’re unhappy. I don’t exist to be a girlfriend—or even a wife—for you, Lyle,” I continue, my voice rising. “This isn’t about what you need, what you want, or what works for you. It’s about both of us. You’ve never once stopped to think about what I deserve.”I stop myself before the words tumble out, the ones I’ve been holding inside for far too lon
Angela's POVI lock eyes with Lyle, and his expression is unlike anything I’ve ever seen on him before. The confidence he wears like armor is gone, replaced by something raw and unfamiliar. His worry is written plainly in the furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw.I want to look away, to turn my back on the complicated swirl of emotions in his gaze, but I can’t.“Angela,” Michael’s voice cuts through the moment, drawing my attention back to him. His tone is soft but firm, grounding me.“Are you okay?” he asks, his concern evident. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”I shake my head slowly, my voice trembling. “I… I’m fine. Just shaken up.”My words feel hollow, the adrenaline still coursing through me, leaving my thoughts scattered. The encounter with the muggers had rattled me more than I wanted to admit.Twice now, I’ve found myself in situations like this. The first time, Lyle had been the one to pull me from danger, and it had changed everything between us. This time, though
Angela's POVThe first time I saw him, seven years ago, I didn’t know his name, but I knew he wasn’t like anyone I had met before.I had just started university, my nerves running high as I navigated the unfamiliar campus. Everything about it felt overwhelming—the sprawling buildings, the steady hum of activity, the throngs of students who all seemed to know exactly where they were going and what they were doing.It was during the first lecture of the semester that I noticed him. The auditorium was packed, every seat filled with students murmuring among themselves. I found a spot near the middle, clutching my notebook like it was a lifeline. My focus was on the professor, who was preparing to introduce the syllabus, but the energy in the room shifted suddenly, a ripple of quiet excitement sweeping through the rows.He had walked in.Tall, confident, and exuding an ease that seemed almost effortless, he commanded attention without trying. He wore a simple shirt and jeans, nothing extr
Angela's POVThe morning starts like any other—coffee brewing in the break room, the hum of conversation as colleagues file into their offices, and the faint rustle of papers being sorted for the day ahead. I’m halfway through drafting a brief when a soft knock on my office door draws my attention.“Got a minute?” Michael asks, stepping inside without waiting for an answer.“Of course,” I say, setting my pen down and leaning back in my chair. His expression is thoughtful, the kind he wears when he’s working through something important.He walks over, a thick folder in hand, and takes the seat across from me. “We’ve received a collaboration proposal,” he begins, sliding the folder across the desk.I glance down at it, skimming the header, and feel my stomach tighten. The company name at the top is unmistakable: Grayson Enterprises.For a moment, I can’t speak, my thoughts swirling. Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised. Lyle’s company is one of the biggest players in the area. It was on
Angela's POVThe tapping of my pen against the desk is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, as I stare at the document in front of me. The words blur together, the details slipping through my mind like water through my fingers. No matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to the folder with Grayson Enterprises stamped on the cover.It’s been days since Michael decided we’d move forward with the collaboration, and though the meeting hasn’t been scheduled yet, the anticipation hangs over me like a storm cloud. Lyle feels closer now, even though I haven’t seen or spoken to him since that night.I shake my head, trying to dispel the growing tightness in my chest, but it doesn’t help. I need to focus.A soft knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.“Come in,” I say, grateful for the distraction.Michael steps inside, his usual calm demeanor in place, though his eyes are watchful. He’s always quick to notice when something’s off, and I can tell by the slight tilt of his head
Angela's POVWednesday morning starts like any other. The office is already buzzing by the time I settle into my desk. A half-empty cup of coffee sits precariously close to my laptop as I navigate my inbox, skimming through a mountain of emails that demand my attention. Case files are piled neatly on one side of my desk, each one begging to be reviewed, dissected, and resolved.The hum of conversations and the occasional ring of a phone create a familiar rhythm in the background. It’s nothing I haven’t handled before, and I take comfort in the structure of it all.I’m midway through drafting an email, trying to word a response delicately enough to satisfy a difficult client, when a soft knock on my door catches my attention.I glance up to see Michael standing in the doorway, a thick folder tucked under his arm. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a tightness around his mouth that immediately puts me on edge. Michael doesn’t usually hesitate—he’s decisive, clear, and steady.
Angela's POVLyle’s apology lingers in the air between us, thick and suffocating. His face, full of remorse, is unreadable, but I know what he’s asking for—forgiveness, a chance to undo the past, to rewrite what’s already been set in stone.I stare at him, my body tense, my mind racing with memories I wish I could erase. “You think an apology changes anything?” My voice comes out sharp, but I don’t care. “You think just because you finally feel guilty, it makes everything better?”His throat bobs as he swallows, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “Angela, I know I—”“No,” I cut him off. “You don’t know. You never knew. You were so caught up in yourself, in your own world, that you never once stopped to think about what I was going through.”His jaw tenses, but he doesn’t argue. He knows it’s true.I take a step toward him, my anger boiling to the surface, my voice trembling as years of hurt pour out. “You had something to do with it.”Lyle’s brows draw together. “What?”“Th
Angela's POVI sit up straighter on the couch, my hands folded tightly in my lap as I brace myself for whatever he’s about to say.“I’m sorry about Fiona,” he begins, his voice low. “I didn’t expect her to show up like that.”I shrug, doing my best to sound unaffected. “It’s not my concern, Lyle. I’m just here for work.”The corner of his mouth twitches, as if my words sting. “I’ll handle it,” he promises.I nod curtly and stand, smoothing the fabric of my blouse. “I’m rested now. I’d like to leave and get back to work.”For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that makes me pause. Then he speaks again, his voice quieter this time. “Angela… there’s something I need to say. About… what happened. About the miscarriage.”The words hit me like a slap, and I freeze, my heart skipping a beat.“What?” I say, my voice sharp.Lyle’s expression is unreadable, but there’s a heaviness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “I misunderstood you,” he says, each word del
Lyle's POVThe weight of Angela in my arms feels both grounding and surreal, her unconscious state a constant reminder of how close I came to losing her. The scene from moments ago replays in my mind like a haunting loop—Fiona’s wild eyes, her unrestrained fury, and the way Angela stumbled back against the wall, cornered and vulnerable.For the first time in years, I felt something foreign and overwhelming: panic.I’ve faced high-stakes negotiations, volatile boardroom power plays, even moments when the future of my company teetered on the edge. None of that compares to the sheer terror that gripped me as Fiona lunged toward Angela. The thought of her being hurt—of her slipping away—was unbearable.I glance down at her pale face, her lashes resting delicately against her cheeks. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. It strikes me just how fragile she looks, yet I know she’s anything but. Angela has always been strong—stronger than I ever gave her credit for.The moment I saw her her
Angela's POVFiona’s lunge is so sudden, so full of raw fury, that it takes me a moment to process what’s happening. My instincts kick in too late, and I stumble back, only to feel the unyielding surface of the wall against my shoulders. There’s nowhere to go, and for a heartbeat, I’m frozen.“Fiona, stop!” Lyle’s sharp voice cuts through the chaos, but it doesn’t slow her down.Before she can reach me, Lyle moves like a force of nature, placing himself between us. His broad frame blocks her path completely, and I’m left staring at the back of his suit, my heart pounding in my chest.“Enough!” he snaps, his voice filled with authority.Fiona barely registers his words, her rage blinding her as she struggles against the security guards who step in and grab her arms. She twists and writhes in their grasp, her cries echoing through the room.“Let me go!” she shrieks, her voice wild and frantic. Her carefully composed facade has completely shattered, replaced by something raw and unhinge
Angela's POVThe air feels heavy, as though the room itself is holding its breath. Lyle’s sharp gaze moves between me and Fiona, and I brace myself for what’s coming.He’s going to blame me. He always blames me. The thought lodges in my chest, making it hard to breathe.I start to speak, desperate to defend myself before he draws his own conclusions. “Lyle, I didn’t—”He moves, cutting me off—not toward Fiona, but toward me. His expression is unreadable, and my stomach churns as I try to decipher it.“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice steady but laced with concern.For a moment, I’m too stunned to respond. I search his face for a hint of sarcasm, some edge that suggests this is a trick, but all I see is sincerity.“What?” I manage to say, blinking up at him.“Are you okay?” he repeats, his brow furrowing slightly. His gaze is fixed on mine, and I realize he’s genuinely asking. The knot in my chest loosens slightly, but confusion replaces it.“I—yes,” I reply cautiously, the word hesit
Angela's POV“Looks like you’re doing well. Found yourself a new sugar daddy?”The words stop me in my tracks. Malice drips from every syllable, sharp and cutting, as if they’ve been honed specifically to wound. I don’t need to turn to know who it is.I do. Slowly.Fiona stands a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest, her posture all smug confidence. Her tailored dress clings perfectly to her, her carefully styled hair gleaming under the overhead lights. She looks flawless, as always, but the gleam in her eyes is sharper than ever, practically daring me to react.“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice steady despite the way my pulse quickens. “Shouldn’t you be… recuperating?”Her smirk falters, just for a split second, before she tilts her head, recovering quickly. “There’s nothing wrong with me.,” she replies,her tone laced with mockery. “Besides the fact I’m forced to see your face again. Why are you here, anyway?”“I’m here for work,” I answer curtly, gripping the str
Angela's POVThe sunlight feels too cheerful for my mood as I step outside, where Michael is waiting by his car. His tie is slightly loosened, and his sleeves are rolled up just enough to give him that effortless, approachable look that seems to come so naturally to him. He waves when he sees me, a small smile tugging at his lips.“Ready?” he asks as I approach.“I could’ve taken the bus,” I say, though there’s no real conviction in my voice.“I could’ve let you,” he replies with a smirk. “We both know I wouldn’t feel good about that. After you were jumped the other day, this isn’t up for debate. Get in.”I sigh, giving him a look, but I climb into the passenger seat anyway. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”“Just looking out for a friend,” he says lightly as he pulls into traffic.The drive is quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between us. I fiddle with the strap of my bag, trying not to think too much about where I’m headed.“First day nerves?” Michael a
Angela's POVWednesday morning starts like any other. The office is already buzzing by the time I settle into my desk. A half-empty cup of coffee sits precariously close to my laptop as I navigate my inbox, skimming through a mountain of emails that demand my attention. Case files are piled neatly on one side of my desk, each one begging to be reviewed, dissected, and resolved.The hum of conversations and the occasional ring of a phone create a familiar rhythm in the background. It’s nothing I haven’t handled before, and I take comfort in the structure of it all.I’m midway through drafting an email, trying to word a response delicately enough to satisfy a difficult client, when a soft knock on my door catches my attention.I glance up to see Michael standing in the doorway, a thick folder tucked under his arm. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a tightness around his mouth that immediately puts me on edge. Michael doesn’t usually hesitate—he’s decisive, clear, and steady.
Angela's POVThe tapping of my pen against the desk is rhythmic, almost hypnotic, as I stare at the document in front of me. The words blur together, the details slipping through my mind like water through my fingers. No matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts keep drifting back to the folder with Grayson Enterprises stamped on the cover.It’s been days since Michael decided we’d move forward with the collaboration, and though the meeting hasn’t been scheduled yet, the anticipation hangs over me like a storm cloud. Lyle feels closer now, even though I haven’t seen or spoken to him since that night.I shake my head, trying to dispel the growing tightness in my chest, but it doesn’t help. I need to focus.A soft knock at the door pulls me from my spiral.“Come in,” I say, grateful for the distraction.Michael steps inside, his usual calm demeanor in place, though his eyes are watchful. He’s always quick to notice when something’s off, and I can tell by the slight tilt of his head