Page 73 of Angel

It can’t be. This can’t be real. Please don’t let it be real.

“Hello, my blonde-haired beauty.” Victor’s eyes drip with evil. A cold sweat runs through me, and I feel the nausea rising. The dizziness comes in waves, like I’m floating, and the panic sets in. He takes a step forward. I take one back, then another. And another. Before I know it, I’m left with nowhere to go. My only escape is behind the man who came to destroy me.

He sneers, straightening his suit jacket before placing his hands in the pockets of his nicely pressed slacks. An impenetrable wall stands at his back—his bodyguard—making it impossible to sneak by. I sag in defeat. Why am I giving up? I shouldn’t be giving up already. Come on, Angel, think. Don’t sink into that place you can’t mentally evade—not when you are already physically trapped.

I don’t bow down to any man.

“I’ll admit… it wasn’t easy trying to find you.” The door closes until it clicks. No.

I claw at the wall behind me. “So, how did you find me then?” I don’t even recognize my own voice: it’s trembling, high-pitched, and full of fear.

“I can find anyone, doll. You should know that by now. But you must have forgotten who I am.” He stalks toward me, his eyes raking over my body and sending shivers down my spine. His evil grin fades when he sees my patch. Shit. The more steps he takes, the more I can smell his expensive cologne. “What’s this?” He stands, looms over me, but not by much. And he grabs on to my jacket as he tugs it to him, causing my body to inch forward and off the wall. “A biker club, huh?” He reads the name, his brows furrowing. “It wouldn’t be the same one that killed my brother, would it?” I glare without an answer. “A biker club killed my brother, and when I find out which one it is, I will slaughter each and every one of them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know your brother,” I lie. I can’t let him find out it was my club. There is no way I can let him hurt them. They’re family. My friends. I would die before I let that happen.

“Yes, well, maybe it wasn’t your club, or…” He forces my body to press against his, a grotesque smile on his face as he holds me by the nape of my neck. Don’t show him fear. “Or maybe it was. Sounds like a bit of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

A huge coincidence all right. Yet, not planned. With only an inch between us, I try breaking free, but it’s no use. I can’t shake his hold on me, and even if I could, there’s nowhere to go. “Go to hell. I have no idea who killed your brother, but if he was anything like you, I’d say good riddance.”

He tosses my head back into the wall with fury, and the pain shoots down. All the way to my feet. “Your mouth was always getting you into trouble.”

I smile. “I happen to like my mouth just fine—thank you. And I’m done working for you, so you can go fuck yourself.”

The bastard laughs. “You think it’s that easy? I told you before: I own you. You can never quit. You can never run.”

“We’ll see about that.” In one fast motion, I take hold of his wrist, using my left hand. Then, with my right, I grab on to his elbow, twisting him away from me and off to the side.

I kick him in the shin with my boot, and he yelps out a pained moan. I go for my only chance to escape and flee to the door. Disappointment hits me like a ton of bricks when his bodyguard stands there, sneering at me. I knew he was there, but I was hoping for a miracle.

“You always were a bitch. One who needed to be taught a lesson. Couldn’t be like my other employees—no—had to be the one to disobey me.” Galiente grabs the back of my hair, fists it, and I’m being thrown into the wall with one hard hit. “Now, it’s time I fucking punish you.” His open palm lands square on my face, and the heat of the sting has the room spinning. Despite the agonizing pain, I’m more pissed than before.

“I will fucking kill you!”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Doubtful, sweetheart. And I won’t have you wearing this.” He takes the corner of my jacket in his hand. “Not while I fuck you.” He pulls my leather off me and tosses it like it’s nothing. But to me, it’s something. That club is my everything.

“You don’t get to fucking touch that!” I yell. My club is all I have. How fucking dare he.

He drags me by my hair and throws me onto the bed, while he starts unbuttoning the top of his pants. The nausea swirls aggressively, but I’ll die before I let him touch me like that.

I’m a fighter. Always have been.

He walks over. I try to roll off and go for his balls with my boot, but he’s too quick. He grabs my wrists, holding them above my head as he straddles me.

“I always did like a woman who puts up a fight.” He adjusts his tie with one hand, undoing the knot. He’s a lot stronger than I thought and packs more muscle than I knew he had. “Let’s have some fun, shall we?” He rips the front of my shirt open and the air touches my exposed breasts.

I will kill him. “I would rather die the worst death than be touched by you.” I buck beneath him and headbutt his face, definitely breaking his nose. I wonder if my skull is made of steel, considering this is the second time I’ve done that to someone.

“Fuck!”

I smile as the blood pours out, his hand holding his nose.

Fucking asshole.

Fucking rapist.

Fucking scum, along with his brother.

“Boss,” his bodyguard calls out from the doorway.