SAVING ANGEL

CHAPTER 7

"Let go of me," I yelled, struggling against her grip, but it was useless. The recent events left me weak, and my body aches from yesterday's events.

"How dare you embarrass me in front of him? You are so lucky he agreed to marry a slut like you." My stepmother said, her grip loosening a little.

I took that opportunity to push her away. "How can you treat me this way? You expect me to marry a man old enough to be my grandfather," I asked, my voice a little broken.

"Why are you acting like it's something terrible? He's rich and it will be your honor to marry him, and you only have to do a few house chores and satisfy him in bed".

"If he is that great, why don't you ask Vera to marry him, or better still, marry him yourself? Nothing you do or say will make me agree to this, I'd rather die than marry him". I yelled

My stepmother looked shocked after hearing what I said, and before I could think, I felt a sharp sting on my face. She had slapped me, and the impact made me fall, twist my ankle, and maybe my wrist also. I screamed from the pain, tears spilling from my eyes.

"How dare you talk to me like that, you slut? You should be grateful to me for trying to give you a future."

"Grateful?" I spat, blinking through the tears that blurred my vision. "For what? Being treated like a slave? For cleaning up after you and your daughter while you pretend I don’t exist?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "You ungrateful wretch. You think the world owes you something? Look at yourself!"

She grabbed a handful of my hair, jerking my head up so that our eyes met. "You're nothing without us, Gilda. You have no name, no money, no career. The best you can do is marry a man who’s willing to put up with you."

The words struck like whips, but I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood rather than give her the satisfaction of a scream.

"Then I’ll have nothing," I whispered. "But I'll still have my dignity, which is something that you'll never understand."

Her hand twitched as though she wanted to hit me again, but I didn't wait for her to decide. I pushed past her, ignoring the sharp pain that shot up my ankle, and staggered toward the door.

Vera stood there, arms folded and lips curled in mock sympathy.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, her face wearing a mocking smile. "At least pack a blanket, sister. The streets get awfully cold when you have nowhere to sleep."

I brushed past her without answering. My throat burned too much to form words. The last thing I heard as I stumbled out was their mocking, cruel laughter.

As I got outside, the blazing sun hit me hard. My cheek throbbed, my wrist and ankle pulsed with pain, and every step sent a jolt through my legs.

Still, I walked, limping weakly.

My breath came out ragged, and my head ached, and I felt dizzy. That's when I remembered that the last time I ate was yesterday afternoon, and the hunger was taking a toll on me.

I had nowhere to go, no money, no friends, no home left to run to. The thought made my heart ache. I had fought so hard to survive, and yet somehow, I always ended up back here all alone, unwanted, humiliated.

I stopped walking when the ache in my chest became unbearable. The street was quiet except for the sound of my own breathing. I wanted to scream, to curse every person who had ever hurt me. But all that came out was a shaky sob.

I heard a car horn coming from behind me, and I looked back to see a shiny black Mercedes driving towards me.

The car slowed down. My heart jumped into my throat.

The window rolled down. A man's voice, calm and unfamiliar, drifted out. "Miss Nash?"

My blood ran cold. How did he know my name?

He stepped out of the car, tall, sharply dressed, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Seth Williams asked me to find you."

My breath hitched. Seth?

He gestured toward the car. "He wants to see you. Now."

I took a step back instinctively, shaking my head. "No… no, I can't. I don’t even know him that well. Why would he want to see me?"

The man's expression softened slightly. "He said you’d say that. He also said to tell you that his niece, Angel, hasn't eaten since you left."

The world seemed to tilt under me. "What?"

"She refuses food. She’s been crying since morning."

Angel's face flashed in my mind—the way she had smiled shyly at me, the way her little fingers had gripped mine this morning as though I was the only one she knew.

A painful lump rose in my throat.

"Please, Miss Nash," the man continued, his tone gentler now. "You don't have to decide anything right now. He just wants to talk, and he asked me not to force you, but I'll appreciate it if you come with me".

I looked at the street stretching behind me. Home was no longer an option. The thought of going back there, back to their cruelty, made me feel sick.

And Angel… that sweet child. How could I turn my back on her when she needed me?

"Fine," I whispered finally. "I'll go."

The man opened the door for me, and I slid into the back seat. The interior smelled faintly of leather. My fingers twisted nervously in my lap as the car pulled away from the curb.

As the car drove off, all I could think of was the little girl's smile and the man in the wheelchair whose gaze I couldn't forget.

Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe it was another trap.

But something deep inside me whispered that this time… my life was about to change forever.