"It's a simple question, Colton." The older man pressed the end of the gun against my bleeding forehead, his finger resting on the trigger as my fiancée glanced at me with a loveable gaze. "Your future darling or the city."
The look in his eyes qui...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The city stretched out below us like a tapestry of twinkling lights, the muted symphony of the night reaching the tower's peak. Lennox Haven, the man who had become synonymous with fear, stood at the window, his silhouette framed against the cityscape. But his gaze wasn't on the city; it was on the woman sprawled on the plush rug, the remnants of my white nightgown pooling around me like a forgotten dream.
I, Angelica Sonnet, the epitome of innocence and kindness, met his gaze, my face felt warm, my eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and something else—something that stirred a flicker of something unfamiliar.
He had known me for months, months of torture, of my unwavering kindness in the face of his cruelty. It was as baffling as it was alluring. He had seen my fear, but it was so fragile, so easily subdued by the gentlest touch, the softest words. There was a vulnerability that he had never encountered before, a vulnerability that he found himself drawn to, a vulnerability that made him want to protect me, even as he held me captive.
He had brought me here, to his fortress of solitude, his sanctuary. He had shown me the cruelty he was capable of, yet I had never once cowered, never once succumbed to the fear he had intended to instill. My spirit, my resilience, was as captivating as it was maddening.
Lennox had been a man of shadows, a puppet master of fear, a sculptor of despair. But in me, he saw a reflection of himself, a reflection of the man he could have been, the man he never thought he could be.
He had seen me tremble, but it had been from a longing, a longing he'd only discovered later when my lips met his in a hesitant, trembling kiss. It had been a kiss of desperation, of a soul seeking release, a kiss that had shattered the walls he had built around his heart for a lifetime.
He had touched me, his hands rough and calloused against my delicate skin, his touch a mixture of possessiveness and care. The blush that had stained her cheeks hadn't been from fear but from something else.
He had kissed me, a gentle press of his lips against mine, and I had kissed him back with an intensity that surprised even him. The kiss had deepened, my hands finding their way to his chest, his hands resting on my waist, a sudden urgency in our movements that felt like a collision of two worlds.
He had slipped the strings of my night dress, the silky material falling to the floor, revealing me to him. I opened my eyes, my lips parted in a silent plea, my skin glowing under the soft light emanating from the city below. He had pulled away, his gaze drinking me in, every curve, every imperfection, every inch of my beauty.
"Don't hide, my angel," he whispered, his voice rough with a tenderness he had never known. He saw me flinch, my hands instinctively moving to cover my chest, my eyes hooded with a mixture of apprehension and desire.
"Don't hide," he repeated, his hands gently taking mine, holding them away from my body. "Let me see you."
His gaze was unwavering, his touch gentle, his words a promise, a promise to love me, to cherish me, to protect me, even from himself. This was a love born of chaos, a love that defied logic, a love that had blossomed in the heart of a villain.
The city below us was a tapestry of lights, but for him, there was only me.
