Page 203 of Never Fall for an Angel

“Christian, you wouldn’t throw our friendship away. I know this isher. She’s jealous. Please—”

Stepping into her, she falls back against the wall, her eyes wide with fear.

“What you fail to realize is there’s nothing for her to be jealous of. You and I were over the moment she stepped into my life.” She flinches as if I’m causing her physical pain. “What you think we had was fake. A ruse because of a lie you created. There willneverbe another but her.”

“I hate you,” she whispers, blinking back the tears clinging to her lashes.

She’s not sorry she did it. She’s only sorry she got caught.

I’msorry I didn’t see her for what she was before Mila got put in the middle of it.

“Stay away from my wife,” I mutter. “This is your only warning.”

Tears once again slip down her cheeks, but it does nothing for me. Not anymore. In fact, all I can think about is getting back home and spending the night buried in my wife. When night falls, no one needs me, and I’m free to take my time memorizing her.

“Get out.”

Talia stares at me with hatred and hurt in her gaze, but I’m past caring.

I stopped the moment she put Mila’s life in danger. No one may understand it, but my sanity hinges on her soft smiles and sweet voice. The way she laughs and how peaceful she is when she nestles into my side in her sleep.

That’smy life, and Talia fucked with it. I don’t take that lightly.

“If you do this, I’ll never forgive you, Christian,” Talia breathes.

I step back from her; any ounce of care I had for her gone in the blink of an eye.

“So be it.”

Walking through the front door of our house, I find Mila taking dinner out of the oven, singing along softly to a song on the radio. She can’t carry a tune to save her life, and I didn’t even know the old built-in stereo under the cabinet still worked, but I know one thing for sure.

I’d sell my soul if it meant coming home to her like this for the rest of my life. My gaze rakes over her. Perfect ass in her leggings. Pretty curls piled messily on top of her head.

Striking gray eyes when she turns and finds me leaning against the kitchen doorway and lets out a slight squeak, nearly dropping the glass dish to the floor at her feet.

“How long have you been standing there?” she snaps, her cheeks flaming red when I step across the kitchen. She places the dish down, full of what I know is going to be the best fucking lasagna I’ve ever eaten.

“Not long.” I take her face in my hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. She relaxes in my touch, her hands coming up to rest over mine. “Just long enough to know you won’t be leaving me to become a famous pop star.”

She gawks at me, her eyes shining with amusement when I pull back from her, and I know I made the right decision to cut Talia off.

She always was more trouble than she was worth.

“Ass,” Mila grumbles, reaching for the two plates she’s got set out on the counter.

I swat her ass on my way to the wine fridge to get a bottle for us.

“Brat.”

I’m pouring our glasses when her question catches me off guard.

“Why is your father locked in a room by himself?”

She says it so nonchalantly that I have to wonder if I imagined it. She locks eyes with me, waiting, and I run through every person I need to fire so that doesn’t happen again.

“Why were you in my father’s room?”

She lets out a huff and sets the spatula in her hand down.

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