As Tryson sprawled on the couch, his broad fra nearly swallowing it whole, his gaze drifted from the ceiling to the emptiness around him.
His mind buzzed, thoughts tangling like a storm he couldn’t escape.
Riley had found him. She had followed him—tracked him down with a precision that sent a shiver down his spine.
There was no way this was a coincidence.
No, she was up to sothing.
He felt it in his gut. And after what he had done?
Oh, he knew she was furious. Burning with the kind of anger that didn’t just fade—it simred, waiting to explode.
But that was the plan, wasn’t it?
To push him, corner him, make him crawl back to her, pleading for rcy.
And in that surrender, she would claim him the way she always did—demanding that he worship her, body and soul, until her hunger was satisfied.
A small, frustrated scowl settled on his face as the weight of the situation pressed down on him.
A wave of disgust twisted in his gut, creeping through his veins like a slow poison.
His fingers clenched around the edge of the towel, knuckles whitening as a suffocating tightness coiled within him.
He was trapped between mories and overthinking—replaying the mont, dissecting it, yet unable to shake the gnawing worry for Angel.
No matter how much he tried to push the thought away, to pretend it didn’t exist, the truth clung to him like an unforgiving shadow.
Angel wouldn’t be with him for much longer.
And the cruelest part?
It was all because of his own selfish desires.
At that mont, the weight of his own selfishness crashed down on him. If only he had been stronger—more generous, more disciplined—if only he had stayed away from Angel’s life from the start, maybe then he wouldn’t be caught in this endless ga of hide and seek.
Maybe then, he wouldn’t be drowning in the ss he had created.
The thought sickened him, vibrating through his bones like an unbearable echo of regret. This was his fault.
All of it. And now, with Angel expecting a child... the weight of responsibility pressed down on his chest like an unforgiving grip.
What the hell was he supposed to do to protect her? To fix this?
Riley was a master manipulator—he knew that much.
And if she was still at the resort, then she wasn’t alone.
No, that ant sothing far worse.
The boss’s n could be there too, lurking in the shadows, waiting.
His jaw tightened as a dark realization settled in.
He had played this ga before, orchestrated moves like this himself. And when it ca to Angel, he knew one thing for certain—the boss wouldn’t hesitate.
He’d waste no ti in taking her away.
A cold shiver ran through him, fueling the restless storm in his mind.
Without a second thought, he stretched out his arm, grabbing his phone from the table just behind his head.
His fingers hovered for only a second before he dialed a number, his pulse hamring with the weight of what was to co.
"Yes, Sir." Kelvin’s voice ca through the phone, thick with sleep, the drowsiness unmistakable—he had just woken up.
"Kelvin, I need you to assign as many n as possible for civilian bodyguard duty at the resort," Tryson ordered, his tone sharp and urgent.
"Riley showed up, which ans we can’t take any chances. I want eyes everywhere."
There was a brief rustling on the other end before Kelvin responded, "Understood, Sir. I’ll handle it imdiately."
Tryson didn’t wait for any further words—he ended the call with a swift tap, letting the silence settle around him.
With a heavy sigh, he leaned back, eyes fixed on the ceiling.
Regret clawed at his chest, relentless and unforgiving.
If only he hadn’t been so damn selfish from the start, maybe—just maybe—none of this would be happening.
The storm of thoughts within him slowly faded, dissolving into the quiet darkness behind his closed eyelids.
Sleep crept in, pulling him under, silencing the restless war in his mind.
But peace was short-lived.
A sharp, piercing alarm shattered the morning stillness, slicing through the air like a blade. Tryson stirred, a low growl rumbling from his throat as irritation settled in.
His brows knitted together, and with a sluggish turn, he rolled to the other side, desperate to escape the relentless noise.
Big mistake.
The couch, far too small for his broad fra, betrayed him in an instant.
Before he could register what was happening, gravity took over, and with a sudden, graceless jolt—thud!—he crashed onto the floor.
The impact jolted him awake, his eyes snapping open as he blinked in confusion, dazed by his surroundings.
A low, pained growl escaped his lips as he tried to process what had just happened. But before he could even gather himself, the sharp, relentless sound of his phone ringtone cut through the air once more.
With a frustrated sigh, Tryson pushed himself off the ground, his muscles protesting the sudden movent.
He reached for his phone, squinting at the screen—Jude.
So that was the culprit behind his ruined sleep.
Groggily, he swiped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear.
"What the hell could be so important that you had to ss with my sleep this early?" he grumbled, his voice laced with exhaustion and irritation.
"Well, it’s bad enough to yank you straight out of bed," Jude’s voice ca through, sharp and cold.
The weight of his words sliced through Tryson’s lingering drowsiness like a knife, snapping him into full awareness.
His brows furrowed, confusion washing over him.
"What the hell do you an by that? If this is so kind of prank—"
"Dude, did you even check your phone?" Jude cut in, his tone edged with urgency. "Oh, right—your half-asleep brain must’ve kept you from noticing that Angel might actually be in trouble. And not just her—your company too."
The words hit like a wrecking ball. Tryson’s chest tightened, his heart pounding hard enough to rattle his ribs.
"What did you just say?" he stamred, a rare tremor of fear lacing his voice.
Reviews
All reviews (0)