ANGELA’S POV
The crackling fire in the hearth cast a warm orange glow across the room. Hanzo sat in the armchair with his back to me, a glass of whiskey dangling loosely from his long fingers as if it might slip and spill at any moment. All I could see was the dark fall of his thick hair and the line of his arm. The thick carpet swallowed the sound of my footsteps.
I crossed the large bedroom on silent feet, the weight of what I was about to do pressing heavier with every step. He had not hesitated when he ordered Fred killed. He had not blinked when Aria was beaten and nearly r***d. Violence came to him as easily as breathing. And here I stood, shaken to my core by the mere thought of his blood on my hands.
The urge to turn and run grew stronger with each uncertain step, yet I forced m
