THE SOUND OF WAR INSIDE A HEART
1125 Words
Angelica’s POV
“I’m sorry, Angel…” His whisper was low, raw—too sincere for the monster I wanted to believe he was. “You’re not the only one harboring those feelings.”
My chest tightened; I felt his fast and uneven heartbeat against mine, betraying the cold calm he wore so well.
My pulse matched his in a frantic rhythm I didn’t want to understand as he lifted his head slightly. “But I can’t let you leave this place.”
The words struck harder than I expected.
“I can’t let you leave just yet, Angel… so just… stay with—”
A violent and sudden bang exploded through the air.
Both our heads snapped toward the door as a second, louder crash followed. Someone… or something—was pounding on the other side.
I took the chance, shoving him away with all the force I had left, stumbling backward against the wall. My heart hammered, and blood roared in my ears.
He hissed under his breath, straightening as the shadows seemed to sharpen around him, and clenched his jaw.
Without a word, he turned toward the door, curling both fists at his sides, tightening the muscles in his arms as the pounding grew louder and closer.
“Yes, sir Lucien. We’ve searched the entire estate, and we’re very sure she never left. So she might be hiding here, sir.”
Those malicious voices from my husband's men echoed through from the other side of the cold, cracked wall. I pressed my palms hard against my chest, feeling the erratic rhythm of my heartbeat as the sound of heavy boots scraping the floorboards on the other side made my throat tighten.
They were close. Too close.
Adrian stepped away from the door, his expression was carved in stone, and that calm yet smug look that always managed to irritate me in ways I couldn’t fully explain.
He turned toward me as the dim bulb overhead caught a faint glint off his watch, while stretching his shadow across the wall.
He was about to speak—of course he was—but before his mouth could even form a single word, I raised my hand and swung it straight toward his face.
He caught it midair with infuriating ease, forcing out a sharp gasp from me. “You’re a jerk, Adrian. You know that?”
He didn’t even flinch. Just held my wrist lightly, lowering my hand slowly, and brushing his fingers against my skin before letting go.
“How,” my voice trembled between fury and disbelief, “how can you kidnap me from my husband’s house and bring me to a—” I paused, darting my eyes around the dim space. The cracked walls, the old boxes stacked to the ceiling, the faint stench of oil and mildew— “...whatever-this-place is… that’s still within my husband’s house?”
My tone landed somewhere between outrage and irony, which only made the corner of his lip twitch.
He let out a quiet sigh. “I told you, Angel—”
“If you want to kidnap someone,” I cut him off, crossing my arms with mock composure, “at least be professional about it.”
I tilted my head, scoffing. “This is—” I gestured vaguely around us, “this is just ridiculous.”
That was when he grabbed my shoulders—hard.
I gasped, caught off guard, and his sudden closeness stole the air from my lungs.
His brows furrowed deeply, and that calm façade cracked just enough to show something sharp beneath it.
“We can sort out your anger issues later,” he muttered, taunting his low voice with urgency.
“My—” I began, raising a brow, but before I could finish, he pressed his palm against my lips.
Instant silence.
The roughness of his hand contrasted with the restraint in his touch. His eyes locked on mine, and that was when I heard those fast and heavy footsteps closing in.
The door rattled violently, and the bolts groaned faintly under the pressure.
Adrian’s gaze flicked toward the noise, then back to me. Without a word, he turned and moved to the opposite side of the room, unlocking the wide window with a soft metallic click.
The night wind whooshed in immediately, slicing through the stale air, brushing past my skin as I felt the cold.
He leaned close behind me, with a steady breath despite the chaos outside. “Once you’re out,” he whispered just above my shoulder, “I need you to run… Run as fast as you can and head toward the end of Moreau’s private parking lot. Behind the large truck, you’ll find what you need to get out of here.”
“What are you talking—”
“Just shut up and go, Angel.” His voice snapped louder now, as frustration and something else broke through that polished calm. “I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
“But where will I—”
“No buts.” He cut me off sharply.
Before I could argue again, his hands were already at my waist. In one swift motion, he lifted me up through the window frame with an almost effortless and careless strength.
My breath hitched as his fingers brushed against my side before pushing me forward.
“Go,” he whispered again—this time quieter.
The window slammed shut behind me before I could reply.
For a heartbeat, I just stood there, frozen in the cold night air, staring back at the faint outline of his shadow behind the glass. Then—
Crash.
The sound of fists meeting flesh. Furniture toppling. A grunt. A curse.
I flinched. The noise was brutal, raw, along with the unmistakable rhythm of violence.
My heels scraped against the gravel as I stumbled backward, and my heart continued to hammer so hard it blurred my thoughts. The sounds from inside grew louder—another crash, a choked cry, the shattering of glass.
Adrian’s words replayed in my head, over and over. “I can’t let you leave just yet, Angel…”
But now, he was the one keeping them from reaching me.
And somehow, that terrified me more than the men chasing me.
Security shouted, and glasses tinkled. I took a deep breath, bolted through, burst across the courtyard, and into the garden, with burning lungs, hearing a drumbeat from my heart so loud it drowned the chaos.
I hugged the trunk of a broad ornamental tree and slid to a crouch behind its stone planter.
My hands shook as I looked over and flung my eyes across where the parking lot could be.
- Writer
