Page 82 of Where Angels Fall

I’m not beneath these assholes.

But men in expensive suits, superiority oozing from their smug faces, look me up and down with disdain, mixed with nervousness. They look at me as if the creature inside of me has torn free from my chest cavity.

I stare right back at them until they flinch and look away.

“Excuse me…You need a visitor’s pass to be here…uh, sir,” a lady from reception calls out as I saunter past.

My skin feels itchy, and the lights are blaring down on me. “Which floor is Maddison Dally on?” I ask, feeling stupid that I don’t know.

I’m assuming the penthouse floor. Since it’s the Dally fucking building and all.

“I’m not permitted to tell you that, sir,” she mutters.

My head cocks around; people walking in and out without an issue. So, I shrug and leave the desk, ignoring her objections. I’m trying really hard to be good, for my angel’s sake. I know she works hard for this job. I’ll try my best not to kill anyone, even though my fingers itch with the need to do so.

I squeeze into the elevator, noticing the shift in the air as the five other people in here literally shift away from me. I’m used to it. I know how I look, with my Devil’s vest, my inked skin, my busted knuckles.

I don’t care. I don’t care.

I just need my angel. I need her so badly, my heart is racing at the thought. Tiredness soaks into my bones. My finger jams the top-level button because I just know that is where she will be. She’s so fucking smart and successful; there isn’t a floor lower that’s worth her time.

The elevator springs open to her floor, and it takes me a second to get my legs to walk out. Everything in here screams wealth and success. Shiny and new.

It forms a lump in my throat that I can’t seem to swallow down.

I feel like I’m messing up the place with my very presence, and it’s making my skin crawl. Another voice stops me as I finally step out of the metal cage, blubbering about needing a guest pass.

“Where’s Maddison?” I interrupt, my blood roaring in my ears. This is taking too long. I need her. Now.

“She’s… she’s in a meeting,” the voice stutters.

I keep walking in search of this meeting. Everything else fades away; the only thing that matters is that I’m in the same vicinity as her.

My heart calms and fists unclench. She’s here; I just feel it.

I round the corner and see about twenty bodies sitting around a gleaming black table, and right at the front is her. It’s like everything in my view blacks out except for the glowing figure of my angel. Dressed in the prettiest white dress, her golden hair pulled back into a clip as she listens to the man at the front, speak.

I pause for a second, my stomach squeezing painfully tight, realising the thrumming in my chest has eased. My muscles feel relaxed; my jaw unclenches. A relieved breath whooshes out of my lungs.

I’m okay. Everything is okay.

She might be cranky that I’m disrupting her meeting, being the hard worker she is, but I can’t wait another second.

I step through the door, my boots clunking against the polished floors, heads turning in my direction. But my eyes are only on hers. Her neck flexes as she turns her head to the side, curious about the sound.

My smile creeps onto my face, unable to stop when I’m near her. But it falls clean off when I see her expression.

Sheer panic.

Horror glistening in her wide eyes as her lips part, her face paling with dread.

Everything stops. Moving in slow motion as she shakes her head, a tiny, desperate motion. But it’s too late. The man standing out front turns towards me.

“Can I help you?” Contempt dripping from his words.

My hardened eyes flick to him for a second, and ice freezes my blood. It’s her face I’m looking at. Her father. Mr Dally himself, the fucking horrific asshole that I eventually plan to disembowel. But I turn to the only person I care about.

“Maddy,” I breathe, and I hate how pathetic I sound.