Page 28 of Sins & Paradise

I speed down the dirt street on my bike with reckless abandon. The only thing on my mind is getting to the burned out bakery and finding Angela. My heart pounds in my chest as a sense of dread grips me tighter with each passing house.

When I finally screech to a halt outside the charred remains of the building, I'm greeted by the sight of Coca and a few other club girls helping to clean up the debris. They look at me in surprise as I hop off my bike and stride towards them.

"Where is she?" I demand without preamble. "Where's Angela?"

Coca bites her lip, clearly hesitant to answer. "Lobo, she's inside. Is everything okay?"

I don't wait to hear the rest. I push past her and the others, ignoring their protests as I make a beeline for what's left of the building's entrance. I have to duck under some caution tape and step over piles of blackened rubble, but I hardly even notice. All I can think about is finding Angela and making sure she's alright.

"Angela!" I call out, my voice echoing in the hollow shell of the gutted bakery. "Angela, where are you?"

But the only response is silence. An eerie, unsettling silence that sends chills down my spine. I make my way further inside, past scorched counters and melted kitchen equipment, searching every soot-stained corner. Angela is nowhere to be seen.

Panic rises in my throat as my mind spins worst-case scenarios. Did something happen to her? Did she get hurt? Taken? Just as I'm about to completely lose my shit, I spot something white peeking out from beneath a chunk of collapsed ceiling. A piece of paper.

I rush over and yank it free, my hands shaking as I unfold it. It's a note, written in Angela's distinctive loopy scrawl. As my eyes scan the words, I feel like the world drops out from under me.

"Lobo,

I'm so sorry but I have to go. I need to return to my world, to where I belong. Please believe me when I say that what we shared was real. You helped me feel alive again, and I will never, ever forget that, or you. But this is goodbye.

Don't come looking for me. Just know that you changed my life.

Love always,

Angela"

I read it again. And again. The words blur as hot tears sting my eyes and a ragged growl tears from my throat. This can't be happening. Not again. She can't be gone, not after everything. Not when I was ready to give her my whole fucking heart.

But the note crumpled in my clenched fist is an undeniable truth. Angela left me. She went back to her world, whatever the hell that means. Back to a place I can't follow.

Twelve

Angela

I dashfrom the smoldering ruins of the bakery, my lungs burning as I suck in the thick smoke that hangs heavy in the air. Adrenaline propels my aching legs forward, my mind racing as I try to make sense of what just happened.

The abandoned cement factory looms ahead, a crumbling labyrinth of rusted metal and shattered concrete. I weave my way through the debris, the distant crashing of waves against the shore guiding me back towards the docks. Towards the sleek boats and ships anchored in the harbor, gleaming like a beacon.

As I break free from the dilapidated ruins and stumble onto the weathered planks, my heart sinks. I know that yacht. My father had pictures of it sent to me while I was in seminary school. He was so proud Miguel was able to buy it. It didn’t matter that I absolutely hate sailing or that I couldn’t swim, all my father andbrother could think of is how rich Miguel was and how much they would get after he and I got married.

It’s disgusting.

A figure emerges from the yacht. Miguel. His eyes lock with mine, a mixture of relief and something unreadable flashing across his face. Beside him stand my father and brother, their expressions grim.

They knew. Somehow, they already knew I was here, that I had escaped the inferno. Questions swirl in my mind but I push them aside, forcing my trembling legs to carry me forward. Towards the yacht, towards the three men waiting for me.

But even as I step onto the polished deck, unease prickles along my skin. Something isn't right. They regard me silently, making no move to embrace me or ask if I'm okay. As if they expected this. As if they orchestrated it all.

I meet Miguel's steely gaze, my heart thudding against my rib cage. "What's going on?" I demand, my voice shaking. "What have you done?"

Miguel's eyes narrow as he steps towards me, his expression hardening. "What have I done?" he repeats, a dangerous edge to his voice. "I've done what needed to be done, Angela. To protect our family, our business. To send a message."

Confusion and dread swirl inside me. "A message? By burning down a bakery? By destroying someone’s home and livelihood?" My voice rises with each word, anger simmering beneath the surface.

Two people walk up on side of me and I groan when I realize who it is. Of course my brother and father would have followed Miguel over here. They’d do anything the man says.

My father places a heavy hand on my shoulder, his grip tightening. "Calm down, Angela," he warns, his tone laced with barely concealed irritation. "Miguel knows what he's doing. It's for the good of the family."

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