“Angelo growing a soft spot for the little bitch wasn’t part of the plan, but it does make things easier for us.”
It felt like a slap across the face. I turned, desperate for answers, but Angelo didn’t say a word.
No denial.
He just shot our father a look, his gaze narrowing, eyes filled with something.Anger? Jealousy?
Whatever the hell it was, it didn’t sit right. Martin wasn’t lying.
Angelo had feelings for Allyn.
No. He can’t.
He fucking can’t.
The idea of knowing the answer to this question makes my gut twist.
I’m not ready yet for that reality.Not now. Not ever maybe.
And Martin? He just used my weakness to push me aside, and this time, I let him. It’s like he just drained every ounce of fight out of me.
I feel… fucking defeated.Martin straightened his suit, his eyes locking onto mine, that smug expression not leaving his face.
“That’s why the wedding’s happening tomorrow. The sooner they’re married, the better.”
“What?”Angelo and I both blurted it out at the same time.
Martin just waved his hand dismissively, his phone ringing right on cue, his attention already shifting elsewhere.
Tomorrow? That’s way too fucking soon.
I knew Allyn had to eventually marry Angelo. That was always the plan.
But when I was inside her, when I felt her—really felt her—those thoughts seemed to disappear.
She was calling my name.Mine. Not Angelo’s.
Every part of her was mine, and the thought of seeing her with him, as his wife, twisted something dark inside me.
It doesn’t fucking feel right.
I don’t want to watch her next to him. Not after I’ve had her. Not after I know what she looks like when she’s mine.
But when I looked at Angelo, I couldn’t bring myself to blame him even if I wanted to.I don’t blame him for having feelings for Allyn.It’s easy to fall for someone like her— if you’re capable of feeling anything at all.
She’s feisty, bossy, and a fucking brat, but she’s also sharp, beautiful, and has the kindest soul I’ve ever crossed paths with.
She brings a light to everything she touches.
She brought that light to me.
Deep down, I always knew she was different from the others. And instead of facing it, I used it to fuel another reason to hate her.
The truth is that I don’t really hate her.
I hate that I can’t have her.
And somehow, convincing myself to feel hatred toward her is the onlything that’s keeping me sane every time I see her with my brother.