Page 7 of Wicked Angel

In his gaze, was an intense glimmer of heat. It cut through me as I froze in the doorway, my hand still wrapped around the doorknob and my mouth hanging open. When he blinked slowly, cutting me off from that impenetrable gaze only to return a moment later, I realized that there was a steeliness to his attention. A careful amusement that was only surface deep. The man looked at me as if he had seen or done horrible things, pillaged villages and burned houses, and I—I was the thing he'd been searching for all along. It was … disturbing.

“Evangeline.” My father stood from his chair and smiled at me, lifting his arm as he gestured for me to come closer. “Come here.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, adjusting my silk blouse slightly and tugging it down against the waistband of my jeans as I stepped further into the room and released the door. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

My father chuckled. “Gaven is more than a guest, Angel,” he said.

I frowned. His name was Gaven then. What an innocuous name for a man who’d no doubt done horrible, awful things in his lifetime. I could see it in his eyes. No normal man stared at a woman the way he did unless he was a predator seeking something to eat. I swallowed roughly, nervously.

“Who’s this, Father?” I jumped as Jackie’s voice sounded behind me. I hadn’t realized she’d followed me here.

When I didn’t move toward the desk, Jackie stepped through the open doorway and around me. She strode farther into the room, her eyes locking on the man as he rose from his seat as well, the elegant cut of his suit jacket hanging open. “Oh, you’re a handsome one.” Her voice turned sultry as she approached, and I watched with a spark of something dark in my mind as she touched his arm and batted her lashes up at him. “Are you one of the new guards? Perhaps we should spend some time together later.”

“Enough, Jacquelina,” Dad barked, his expression darkening as irritation took root. “Gaven is not a guard.” A sinking feeling took over. If he was warning Jackie away from a man, that could only mean one thing. Dad turned back to me, the cold expression he had flashed to my sister melting away. “Please, Evangeline, come in. I’d like for you to meet my friend, Gaven Belmonte.”

“Your friend?” I repeated.

With a hefty gulp, I took one single step further into the room. I didn’t trust myself to move any more. Jackie’s hand had yet to leave the man’s arm—not that he seemed to notice. His eyes were zeroed in on me in a way that could only be described as hungry. My back straightened and I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on.

Even as I glared at the man, I spoke to my father. “Dad, I need to speak with you. It's important."

"Yes," Dad replied. "I have something I'd like to say as well, but first, please say hello. You're being rude, Angel."

His tone was gruff, slightly frustrated and confused—as if he couldn't understand my unease, my impoliteness. I had to admit, it wasn't like me. At least not to outsiders. Years of biting back retort after retort and fiery reactions gave me an air of obedience. I didn’t exactly feel like being polite to this man, though.

Something about him put me on edge. Perhaps it was an old memory, something I couldn’t quite recall, but I had a feeling it was something more. A premonition of what was to come. Instead of me being the first to say anything, however, the choice was taken from me by the man—by Gaven’s deep, precise voice. He looked familiar. Strange. I wracked my brain for the information, but he spoke before I could find it.

“Hello, Evangeline,” he said, stepping closer to me, shrugging off Jackie’s arm despite her slight attempts to keep hold. A frown curled her lips, but I wasn’t paying attention to her because it took every ounce of my will to keep from reacting to the depth of his voice. It wasn’t husky like I was used to hearing from my father’s men. It was a smooth, rich baritone that seemed to weave its way through me, nestling next to my erratically beating heart.

"Hello, Mr. Belmonte," I murmured, nodding at him, though I made sure not to move closer. "It's lovely to meet you. I apologize for intruding on your meeting."

"It's no problem at all," Gaven said, smiling my way. "In fact, we were just about to invite you to join us."

Fuck. That could not spell good news. My eyes darted to my father, who stood behind his desk, appearing quite pleased with himself. “Why?" I demanded.

“Well, my Angel...” My father rounded his desk until he stood between the man—Gaven—and me. Jackie moved back with a frown, her eyes darting between the three of us. “I was planning to talk to you this evening, but I expect there’s a reason you came in here so abruptly. I’m sure you’ve heard by now.”

“Yes.” I remembered the reason with sobering clarity. I turned to my father. "Is it true?" My eyes met his. "You're planning toforceme to get married?" I emphasized the word ‘force’ to showcase my extreme dislike of this situation.

“Yes.” The answer came through loud and clear, but to my utter surprise, it didn't come from my father. My head pivoted as if twisting on an axis. With my full attention now on him, Gaven smiled gently and continued. "Your father has asked me to join the Price Family and take you as my wife."

Another sliver of shock echoed through me, not because it was happening so quickly, but because I hadn’t expected the man before me to be the one I would be forced to marry. There it was, though—that damn premonition. Before I could respond, my father spoke up once more.

"It's my goal, Angel, to have Gaven become the next head of the family. It's time for me to step down and let the business go into younger, capable hands. I’m ready to retire, and I want to make sure that my girls are well taken care of.”

Gaven chuckled. "I'm not all that young, Raffaello."

"You're far younger than I am," my father replied with no small amount of amusement.

I was reeling, and I could feel the hope that had bloomed in my chest despite my worst fears dying a slow and painful death.

“You can’t be serious.” At first, I thought my horror and confusion had all come pouring out in that one word until I realized it wasn’t my voice at all.

Father shot Jackie a disapproving look at her words, but otherwise ignored the outburst, taking a step closer to me and reaching for my hands. “Please, my Angel,” he said in a low voice. “I hope you understand that this is necessary. For our family to continue, Gaven will ensure your safety and—”

"Is this because of my acceptance?” I demanded, cutting him off. I flash a dark look at Gaven out of the corner of my eye, unsure if I should say anything about the university in front of him, but also unwilling to let my father go without a clear answer.

"No, this is not about the matter of your acceptance to Eastpoint University," my father said. "This is simply the best course of action for the family and for you."

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