As he took the cupcakes out of the oven, Laziel let out a deep sigh of relief. Thankfully, he had kept the heat on low, avoiding any disasters.
He carefully piped frosting onto the cupcakes, using a pretty ceramic cup adorned with cute Hello Kitty drawings and heart designs—sothing he was sure she would like. On one of the cupcakes, he drew a cheerful smiley face surrounded by tiny hearts, a small gesture of affection.
A sweet smile spread across his face as he admired his handiwork, but it disappeared the mont he heard a voice that sent a chill down his spine. The familiar French accent made him cringe.
His chest tightened as he slowly removed his baking gloves, still holding the decorated cupcake in one hand. He hoped, prayed even, that it was just the French channel playing in the background.
But it wasn’t.
Frida was nowhere to be seen.
His heart began to race, pounding in his ears as his gaze snapped to the source of the voice. There she stood, her presence dripping with unwelco familiarity.
He didn’t like this—not one bit. His pulse quickened, a sharp pang of fear and unease settling in his chest.
He was breathing hard. The shock he’d felt the mont he saw her standing in his living room had made him feral.
Delancie Pierre Alfredo, that bastard’s stepdaughter, stood smugly by the door.
She looked so out of place, standing there like she belonged, while his chest heaved with denial.
"Where’s Frida?" he demanded, his voice low and taut.
"Who?" she asked, her high heels echoing on the floor as she took a slow, deliberate spin around the Airbnb.
"Nice place," she remarked, flipping her blonde hair over one shoulder.
"Where’s Frida? Damn it, don’t play dumb. I know she opened the door for you," he said, his anger rising with each passing second he couldn’t find her.
"Oh, you an your little fling?" she purred, her voice dripping with malice. "She ran out the door like a sad little puppy." She dangled her sunglasses loosely from one finger, her smile venomous.
His jaw ticked. "What did you say to her?"
"Oh, nothing much." She pouted, her overly pink lipstick gleaming. "Just that I’m your fiancée."
Laziel let out a humorless chuckle. "You can’t be serious."
"Did I stutter?" she asked, folding her arms with a smug shrug.
In one swift movent, Laziel crushed the ceramic cupcake he’d been holding. Blood dripped from his hand onto the floor as Delancie scread.
"Which way did she run?" he growled, picking up his car keys.
"Laziel, you’re bleeding," she gasped, her hands trembling.
"Shut up and tell which way she ran," he said coldly. When she didn’t answer, he moved toward the door. He was ready to search the entirety of New York if he had to.
She blocked his path, and he silently blessed his self-control. If he didn’t have a thing against violence toward won, he’d have buried her in this damn house.
"Where do you think you’re going?" she shrieked, her voice shrill and grating as she switched to French.
"To get what’s mine," he replied through gritted teeth.
Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?" she snapped.
"Did I stutter?" he shot back. "Look, I don’t know what ridiculous bullshit your stepfather has fed you, but I’m not interested. I’m not marrying you. I love Frida. I’m going to marry her. She’s going to have my babies. Got it?"
Her lips parted in disbelief, but he pushed past her again.
"You’re not going to her!" she yelled, her voice laced with fury. "I didn’t wait all these years to let this bullshit ruin everything! You think I give a damn about love? You’re going to marry so I can own my father’s company! I won’t let so stupid, dumbass romance ruin everything I’ve worked for my entire life!"
Laziel’s eyes darkened with unrestrained rage. "And guess who gives a damn? No one. Now get out of my way."
"No!" she said firmly.
In a fit of fury, he flipped the center table. It crashed violently against the wall, and Delancie jumped in fright.
"Get out of my way, goddammit!" he roared.
She scrambled aside, terrified, but as he reached for the door, he heard her cock a gun.
"Don’t go," she said, her voice trembling. "I’ve watched you with her... I hate how much you love her. And you despise ." Her words wavered, filled with anguish. "What do you even see in her?"
Laziel grasped the doorknob.
The gunshot cracked, and a hole appeared in the door.
"If you move an inch, I’ll shoot you!" she scread in French.
He turned slightly, his voice calm but resolute. "Then shoot , Delancie. If you’re going to do it, just do it. But I love Frida, and I’d rather take that bullet in my chest than be forced to leave her."
He swung the door open and walked out. As he climbed into his car—a sleek BMW—another shot rang out, hitting the vehicle. He didn’t care.
He drove through the snowstorm, his eyes scanning for her. The tracking device led him down a thick path of snow until finally, he spotted her—Frida.
Her figure moved quickly, her beautiful hair whipping wildly in the storm.
He jumped out of the car, sprinting through the freezing wind. "Frida!"
"Frida!" he called again, but she didn’t stop. Her indifference tore through him like a knife.
"Frida, please talk to !" he begged.
"Stay the fuck away from , Laz!" she yelled, her voice filled with pain.
Even in her anger, she was breathtaking. The storm only amplified her beauty, and he felt the overwhelming pull of his love for her.
He dropped to his knees in the snow. "Please listen to . I can’t live without you."
She turned to walk away. Desperate, he crawled after her. "I’ll die if you don’t talk to . I can’t survive without you. Please, God, please... just give a chance."
Her footsteps faltered, and his heart thudded painfully in his chest.
"Five seconds," she said coldly.
The snowstorm stole their warmth, their breaths heavy in the freezing air. He knelt there, his voice trembling as he whispered his first words.
"I love you..."
User Comments
0 comments from readers