Chapter 152

Angela POV

Sean's voice cut through the chilly air of the parking garage, his emerald eyes darkening with a heat that made my chest tighten.

His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled me closer, his touch soft but possessive. His breath brushed my skin, hot and heavy.

"You know what I want," he murmured, his voice dropping low, husky, vibrating through me. "It's always been you. Only you."

Before I could say a word, his lips crashed into mine, hard and hungry. He kissed me like he owned me, his tongue slipping past my lips, tasting me.

His body pinned me against the car, his chest pressing tight against mine, radiating heat that chased away the garage's cold.

Then his hand moved-sliding under my shirt, his warm palm rubbing my back. The slow, deliberate strokes made me shiver, my skin prickling under his touch.

This wasn't like the last time on the private jet, when he'd taken me fast and rough, like he couldn't wait to fuck me.

This time, even though the kiss was forceful, he didn't rush to rip my clothes off. His hand stayed gentle, tracing my spine, his fingers teasing my skin like he was savoring every second.

My knees went weak, my breath hitching as his warmth sank into me. He pulled back just enough to kiss my jaw, then my neck, his lips brushing softly before he nipped my earlobe.

"You're still so sensitive," he whispered, his voice a low growl that sent a jolt straight through me.

For a split second, my body betrayed me.

But then reality hit like a slap. I shoved him back, hard, my hands slamming into his chest.

"Let me go!" I gasped, ripping my lips from his. My voice bounced off the concrete walls.

His eyes burned with raw hunger as he stared down at me, his breathing rough. "Angela-"

The crack of my hand hitting his cheek echoed through the garage. My palm stung, and his head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming on his face. He looked stunned, but I didn't care.

"How dare you!" My voice trembled with fury, my chest heaving. "You shameless bastard!"

Sean slowly turned back to face me, one hand rising to touch the reddening mark on his cheek. Instead of anger, I saw something more dangerous in his eyes-determination, mingled with a flicker of wounded pride.

"Maybe so," he said quietly, "but every word I've said is the truth."

"The truth?" I spat, my voice still shaking. "What does that matter? Am I supposed to believe you now? Have you forgotten how you treated me before?"

I fumbled behind me for the door handle, desperate to escape his overwhelming presence.

The car door finally gave way, and I slipped inside, slamming it shut and immediately hitting the lock button.

Sean remained outside, one palm pressed against my window, his eyes never leaving mine as I started the engine.

My hands trembled on the steering wheel as I reversed, refusing to look in the rearview mirror where I knew Sean still stood, watching me drive away.

The water ran cold over my hands as I stood in my bathroom, furiously scrubbing at my lips for the third time.

My lips were slightly swollen, a visible reminder of what had just happened. The sight only fueled my anger and humiliation.

"Why is my heart still racing like this?" I whispered to my reflection. "It's just anger. Nothing more."

I dabbed at my face with a towel, trying to compose myself.

With one final, steadying breath, I turned away from the mirror and opened the bathroom door.

"There you are!" Olivia looked up from the children's book she was reading to the twins. "How did your investment meeting go?"

I managed a smile, hoping she couldn't see the lingering turbulence in my eyes. "Thank you so much for watching the kids tonight. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow to thank you properly."

"It's no trouble at all. The twins are always a delight."

I watched her interact with my children, a complicated guilt settling in my stomach.

Olivia had been a faithful friend these past years, always available when I needed help with the twins.

Yet I had never told her the truth about their father-about Sean. I knew of her infatuation with him, had seen the way she lit up at the mere mention of his name. Some truths were better left unspoken.

The following evening, I pushed through the crowded mall toward the indoor playground where I'd arranged to meet Olivia and the twins.

I spotted them immediately-Aria's enthusiastic bouncing as she waited for her turn on the bumper cars, Ethan's more reserved stance beside her, and Olivia's slender figure bent slightly as she captured photos on her phone.

"You made it!" Olivia called as I approached. "Was traffic bad?"

"Not terrible," I replied, setting my purse down on a nearby bench. "Just the usual midtown congestion."

She showed me the series of photos she'd taken, scrolling through images of Aria's joyful face and Ethan's rare, genuine smile.

"We haven't taken pictures together in ages," she suggested. "Should we get one now?"

I nodded, moving closer as she prepared to take a selfie. As she exited the camera app, I caught a glimpse of her WhatsApp screen-and froze.

There, at the top of her recent contacts, was a profile picture I recognized instantly. The same distinctive avatar I'd seen countless times in my online interactions with "Mr. Night."

My stomach lurched as the implication hit me.

Olivia and Mr. Night were in contact?

How was that possible? The coincidence was too precise, too deliberate to be accidental.

I forced my expression to remain neutral as my mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last.

Who exactly was "Mr. Night"? And what was his connection to Olivia？