Chapter 43: Angel.

Friday morning was chaos at the café. The second rush had hit hard, with the espresso machine hissing and milk screaming as Kai moved seamlessly from register to barista to manager. Her head ached from the effort of keeping her expression neutral, her body tight with exhaustion.

And then the courier walked in at 10 a.m.

“Delivery for Kai Everson,” he said, placing a tall, elegant vase at the end of the espresso bar.

She turned—and froze.

Two dozen stems of black dancer orchids.

The breath left her lungs in a punch, cold and sharp. Once, she had loved them. Their rare elegance, the way the petals curled like silk mid-dance. But now, they were twisted reminders of a time she barely survived—when Beast would bring them to her like a sick ritual, always after he hit her. Apologies steeped in violence and control.

Her blood drained from her face.

“I—I need a minute,” she mumbled, ducking through the side door into the kitchen. She grabbed Leo by the sleeve. “Can you get rid of those? Please. I just... I can’t.”

Leo, seeing her pallor, gave a short nod and turned without asking questions.

Kai kept walking—right into the cold room, where she pressed her forehead to a rack of sealed pastry trays, drawing in the icy air like medicine. Her chest heaved as she fought to slow the mounting panic.

Not now. Not here.

All she had to do was make it through the day. Then she could shut her phone off, turn off the lights, and hide. Only a couple minutes later there was a knock on the door, forcing Kai out of her grounding ritual, stuck mid spiral, thankfully when she looked at the end of the bar, the orchids were gone. She was still rattled and struggling to regain her composure.

By noon, she’d regained control. She didn’t talk much, but she worked. She made a quick stop at the downtown office after lunch to grab paperwork for the permit files. The delay from the inspections—now confirmed to be due to arson—meant more bureaucracy, more insurance follow-up, more questions from café managers relying on her supply chain to survive. The freezer stockpile was already down 40%.

She filed the forms at the city office, then called it a day.

Her apartment was quiet when she opened the door just after five. Too quiet. When she walked into the living room, there he was. James, sitting on the couch, looking calm but serious. Sara stood near the kitchen with her coat on, keys in hand.

“I was just heading out,” she said with a gentle smile. “You two have karate, right?”

Kai blinked, already on guard.

Sara stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “Take care of her,” she said to James, then was gone.

By the time she saw James she was all brittle edges, holding herself together by sheer force of will. She’d buried the orchids in the back dumpster, hidden the evidence, but the scent still clung to her clothes.

She stepped away from the door and tried for casual. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

He didn’t believe her. His eyes flicked over her too quickly, noting every hairline crack.

“I said I’m fine.” She forced a smile, moving past him into the kitchen, yanking open a drawer just for the noise. “I don’t need—”

He caught her wrist. Firm, but not brutal. “Stop.”

She jerked, trying to twist free. “James—”

“Look at me.” His voice dropped, the command steady, unyielding.

“No.” She wrenched harder, panic spiking at the restraint. Her heart slammed, body remembering nights of being pinned, forced, bent into obedience. She couldn’t—

“Angel.”

One word, but it carried the weight she couldn’t refuse. He didn’t let go. Instead, he lowered himself, guiding her down, not by force but by immovable patience, until she was on her knees in front of him. The position made her chest seize, shame and safety crashing against each other in violent waves.

Her eyes blurred. She hated him in that moment that he had control of her body this way, and hated herself more for the relief spilling through her muscles the moment she stopped fighting.

Her chin dropped. A sob tore out of her throat before she could deny it.

James exhaled slowly, hands sliding down her arms and squeezing them keeping her pressed against his chest. “Good. Stay with me. Now breathe.”

She tried, lungs stuttering. Tried again. And then the words ripped free, raw, unfiltered:

“They were from him.”

His silence pressed heavier than any question.

“The orchids,” she whispered, voice breaking. “They’re his. He always—he said they were me. White, delicate, controlled. He made me—God, he made me keep them alive. If one wilted—” Her chest spasmed, and she dug her nails into her palm, desperate to stay present. “I thought it was over. I thought he was gone.”

James’s hand tightened around hers, grounding. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to see judgment or pity.

But he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just held her, steady as stone, until the trembling slowed.

Her confession hung in the air between them, fragile and venomous. For the first time in years, she wasn’t carrying it alone.

“Angel,” His voice sharpened, drawing her gaze up, “I want everything.”

A pause.

Then...

“The arson report came back. Confirmed.” Her hands clenched in her lap. “Which means more delays, more inspections. The insurance company’s stalling. And we’re burning through our reserve supply—there’s pressure from every café manager, and the corporate accounts are asking questions. We’re weeks away from running dry.”

James’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I can manage that part,” she added, voice shaking now. “But... the gifts started coming.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze any more, couldn’t let him see the terror that was barely restrained, Kai swallowed hard before continuing. “A dress. It was mine. One from... before. He sent it. Then came the chocolates and now orchids today. Anita said that someone has been calling the cafe and not saying anything, just asking for me. It’s been like this all week—small things. I... I don’t know what he’s trying to say, but I feel like he’s everywhere.”

James’s jaw tightened further, his face hardening, he knew what she was referring to. Beast. Who he can only assume was the psychotic ex-boyfriend he had saved her from 5 years ago. But he didn’t pull away, didn’t react in anger. He reached out, fingers threading through her hair, thumb pressing up under chin. Making her look at him again, to stay with her, his grip never faltering.

“I can’t... I can’t focus,” she whispered, voice trembling. “It’s like I can’t escape him. Every step forward, and he’s there in the background, reminding me that he still has control.”

James’s hands slid down to her shoulders, squeezing gently but firmly, as though grounding her.

“I need you to show me everything,” he said, his voice low and demanding. “Tell me about each gift. What’s been happening. And no more hiding it from me. No more trying to carry this all on your own. You are not alone, Kai. I am here.”

Kai's chest tightened as she nodded, finally letting the truth spill out. She didn’t have to protect herself here, not anymore. Not from him.

“I thought i was past this, I can’t go through this again James,” she said, her voice shaking, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill.

“You don’t have to,” he answered, his tone softening. “But you have to let me in. You have to let me help.”

Tears spilled silently down her cheeks as she nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

James’s thumb traced her jaw, his gaze fierce but full of devotion.

“You are my good girl, Angel,” he said, his voice low but full of pride. “And I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll make sure you never have to carry this alone again.”