Page 22 of Angels Are Falling

“Take care of yourself.”

I hung up and set the phone face down on the table.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then a dam broke open in my chest without warning, and I pressed both hands flat against the table, trying to hold still. My shoulders shook first. Then my whole body. Hot tears spilled down my face and dropped onto the table before I could think to wipe them away, and the sound that came out of me wasn’t dignified. It was ugly and guttural, the kind of crying that leaves no room for performance because there’s no one to perform for.

We can’t give them any more money.

Even my best friend’s husband thought poorly of us. And I had started a fight in her marriage while looking for a handout. How had it come to this?

I pressed my fist against my mouth to keep the sound in, but it came out anyway, this thin, wretched, terrible thing, and I sat there in the kitchen, in the dark, with no one listening, and let it.

There was no door. No other choices. I had to marry Kai Cavendish or lose the man I loved.

Chapter

Seven

AMELIE

A Few Weeks Later

Kai stood perfectly still, backlit by the window of our hotel suite, hands loose at his sides. He wore a linen shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his broad chest. It was lithe, with the kind of muscle sculpted by a deliberate gym routine rather than good old genetics.

The sight was nearly blinding, and I jerked my gaze away, cheeks heating as I fixed my attention on the ocean. The blue-green water was picturesque, shimmering under soft lighting. While the beaches of Puerto Vallarta were calm, a storm raged within me. My lungs ached, as if the very air had changed. My pounding heart told me there was no turning back now.

I was officially Mrs. Kai Cavendish.

Divorce was a seamless process when you had endless wealth and neither party held the other accountable for emotional damage. Although Stefan and I shared guardianship of the children, there were no custody battles because everyone was willing to make the transition as smooth as possible.

Everyone was just so damn willing. Was I the only one to see my new marriage as a complete farce?

I started the summer happily married to the love of my life, and by the end of it, I was divorced and remarried to another man. Stefan and I must have had hundreds of conversations about this arrangement. I asked Kai for concessions, too, wanting to remain legally married to Stefan.

But Kai remained steadfast on his path, and I ended up giving in. Because I would have been the bitch ruining everyone’s perfect futures if I had backed out of the arrangement.

I didn’t care about limitless opportunities. Rather, I was concerned about pushing Stefan further into depression. I couldn’t stop picturing him on that rooftop, contemplating suicide. I’d rather enter this bizarre arrangement than lose Stefan altogether. The thought left me bitter because I had no control of my destiny.

Stefan was hypnotized by Kai’s glamorous lifestyle and had elevated him to god status. He hung on to Kai’s words like they were the gospel and was convinced we wouldn’t get far without his money.

But I wasn’t intimidated by Kai. People with obscene amounts of money orchestrated elaborate charades for their amusement. Kai was an ordinary man with a god complex, making everyone dance to his tune. A normal relationship was too boring for him, and now, he was testing the limits of a married couple by forcing his sordid fantasies on them. After finalizing the divorce proceedings, Kai sent me an ironclad prenuptial agreement outlining the particulars of our new marriage. The ink on the dotted lines hadn’t dried before Kai flew us to Puerto Vallarta for a wedding ceremony in the morning, followed by a mini-moon at night.

Everything came together so easily, you’d think Kai had been planning this elopement for years instead of mere weeks. The kids were at a sleepaway camp this week, and Stefan was in Africa for a photography gig. Kai introduced him to the editor of a travel magazine, landing Stefan his dream job.

My new husband was intentionally distracting Stefan from our nuptials. We had a beachfront ceremony at a five-star resort in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, with herons and ocean crabs as our witnesses. A vision of Kai stepping onto the beach flickered through my mind. He’d worn chinos with the same crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal his perfect, golden arms. The breathable material clung to his contours, emphasizing the dramatic silhouette of his upper body while hinting at the easy grace tucked beneath. For a moment, I wondered whether he was the statue Michelangelo had meant to carve. But then the officiant had asked me to sign the marriage license, vanquishing my last hope to dig myself out of this hole.

The course of my life was changed forever. It was especially apparent now that Kai and I were alone, standing face-to-face in the presidential suite where the deed was to be done. When I glanced at him, he was staring at me, his unbuttoned shirt making the rise and fall of his chest evident.

The expanse of his chest is too muscular to be attractive, I decided petulantly.

My critical eyes slid over the unfamiliar lines while I waited for him to speak, but Kai seemed perfectly content watching me fidget.

I had never been in his personal space and was hyperaware that we were now alone in a hotel suite. The air between us was charged, bristling with a script neither of us wanted to read aloud. Kai waited, letting the silence fill the room until it stifled me.

There was a predatory sureness about him, as if he owned every room he entered and everyone was subject to his assessment or dismissal. It was impossible to look away from. Like right now.

“See something you like, Princess?”