Page 110 of Before I Say I Don't
Viangelo glared at me, veins bulging in his neck. But surrounded by security, he couldn’t move an inch.
“Fine! You want the truth? I’m guilty—guilty of loving you, guilty of wanting you and everything else too! Yeah, I wanted my cake and my icing, because I didn’t know how to choose. But I swear to God, Kamira, you were always the one.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd, the tension snapping tight.
I lifted the mic slow, my smile sharp and final. “Cake and icing? That’s real cute. But here’s the thing, Viangelo—I’m not dessert. I’m the whole damn meal. And if you were too greedy to appreciate that, then your guilty plea stands.”
Viangelo’s face crumpled under the weight of his own words.
“But before we proceed to sentencing, there are a few more things I’d like to say,” I stated, bracing myself to let it all out.“Angelo, you were my love, my confidant, my future… or at least that’s what I foolishly clung to. I poured everything into us—my time, my patience, my heart, and even my dreams. I built around you, built with you, even when you gave me scraps. I watered soil that was never fertile, and I still believed something would grow. I defended you when people doubted. I stood by you when you were late, when you were sloppy, when you were everything but the man you swore you’d be. I ignored the red flags because I thought the love I carried was enough to cover the cracks you created.”
I scoffed, the sound bitter, recalling all the late nights, the excuses, and whispers I pretended not to hear.
“I put up with lies dressed as charm, broken promises dressed as busy, and disrespect dressed as mistakes. I’ll admit, when I found out about the baby, the other women, and you sleeping with my best friend… it broke something in me. But here’s the thing about heartbreak—it doesn’t kill you. Sometimes it just clears space for real love, the kind that doesn’t come with conditions or hidden agendas, to step into your life.”
And right on cue, Roman stepped out from the groomsmen line, bold as a headline. He slid behind me, one hand gripping my waist before the other smacked right onto my ass, squeezing. Then he yanked me back into him and kissed me nastily and unapologetically, like he owned every piece of that moment.
The room exploded with gasps, shrieks and camera flashes.
We planned that little act the night before.
When I finally pulled back, breath heavy, I caught Danica’s face. She was smiling like Christmas came early. Everyone else? Pure shock.
“If you’re wondering how I found out everything…” I tipped my mic toward Roman, who stood right beside me. “Here’s your guy.”
Roman gave Viangelo a hard nod, calm as ever, then said, “You’ve really gotta be more careful with who you trust… especially a lawyer. We don’t just listen; we build cases. And sometimes—” he slid his arm tighter around my waist, smirk sharp as a blade—“we take the lies you thought were airtight, tear ‘em open, and give the woman you tried to break a whole new life. One where she’s fucked right, loved better, and walked out the front door with her head high and her dignity untouched. That’s the difference between you and me—you borrowed her time, but after this day… I own her forever.”
That did it. The line that set Viangelo off.
He lunged forward—face red, spit flying, veins bulging at his neck.
“You snake-ass nigga! I knew you wanted my bitch! I knew it! I’ma kill both of y’all asses!”
Security, already in position, swarmed. They held Viangelo back by his arms, his feet kicking at the floor like a toddler mid-tantrum. The sight only made the crowd louder.
Roman adjusted his cufflinks like nothing rattled him.
“Yo’bitch? Nah…” he smirked. “This beauty is aqueen.And you said I wanted her? You’re damn right I did… since day one of meeting her.”
Roman glanced at me, his eyes sparkling with deep adoration, as if I were the only person in the room. After a moment, he shifted his gaze back to Viangelo, his expression becoming more serious as he concentrated on the conversation at hand.
“Shid, it don’t matter. I had her first anyway! You gettin’ my leftovers, homie!” Viangelo spat bitterly, trying to act like it didn’t burn him alive.
Roman chuckled low as hepulled me closer, arm snug at my waist.
“Leftovers? Nah. What you had was the sampler menu, homie. Youthoughtyou had a meal, but all you ever managed was crumbs. You didn’t have the patience, the taste, or the budget for the entrée. She saved the feast for a man who knows how to handle it. I’m the one who gets the full-course meal, the fine dining, the wine pairing, the five-star experience you couldn’t afford or appreciate. You don’t call a diamond you dropped a leftover—you call it a lifetime mistake. And that’s exactly what you made.”
The crowd went ballistic. Somebody yelled, “Say that, Roman!” while Viangelo’s face twisted, red with fury he couldn’t do a damn thing about.
My chest swelled with pride, heat sparking under my skin. Hearing Roman shut Viangelo down so clean had me feeling seen, claimed, and—if I was honest—a little undone. It wasn’t just savage; it was sexy as hell.
I tilted my head, smirk creeping onto my lips.
Yeah, that’s my man.
The one who knew how to drag with precision and love with fire. Every word Roman spit wasn’t just about tearing Viangelo down—it was about lifting me up, showing the whole damn room I was no one’s leftovers. And the way his arm gripped tighter at my waist? Lord… if we weren’t surrounded by two hundred witnesses, I might’ve let him prove every word right then and there.
“So yeah, you had her first,homie. Congratulations.But all you really proved is that you can lose the best thing you’ll ever touch. And the thing about fumbling a woman like her? There’s no overtime. No rematch. Game over. She’s the trophy you’ll never hold again. So thank you for fumbling her and showing her what she never deserved. Because now?” He chuckled, tauntingly. “Now I get to show her what it feels like to be with a man who protects her, respects her, and loves her out loud. Youhad her body, but I’ve got her soul… and that’s a loss you’ll never recover from.”
