Chapter 55

Angela POV

The burly man who had rescued me from Luca led me to a hotel called Sapphire, its elegant facade rising high into the night sky.

The security detail maintained their professional distance as we ascended toward the top floor, their presence both reassuring and somewhat unnerving.

My phone buzzed with another message from Emily:

Angela, are you sure you're okay? I've contacted Sean. He's on his way.

Emily meant well, but she didn't understand. After this morning's argument with Sean, the last thing I needed was another confrontation. His controlling behavior, the way he tried to dictate who I could talk to-it was suffocating. Let him worry for a change. I slipped my phone back into my purse without responding.

The elevator chimed softly as we reached the penthouse level. The security team led me through a corridor adorned with elegant sconces and original artwork, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting.

Everything about this floor screamed old money and refined taste-a far cry from Luca's gaudy attempt at luxury in the club below.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Shaw," one of the security team members said, gesturing to a plush armchair. "My employer will join you shortly."

I settled into the chair, trying to ignore the growing unease in my stomach.

Something about this felt too deliberate, too carefully orchestrated.

A server appeared almost immediately, presenting a silver tray laden with fresh berries, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and delicate macarons in my favorite flavors.

My eyes narrowed slightly. These weren't just random refreshments-they were all things I particularly enjoyed. Even the arrangement mimicked how I preferred my desserts presented at home.

The coincidence was too perfect to be chance.

The baby seemed to share my apprehension, a slight flutter of movement making me place a protective hand over my stomach.

Stay calm, little one, I thought. We'll figure this out together.

My phone buzzed again. This time it was a message from Sean:

Sean：Where are you?

I stared at the screen, debating whether to respond. Before I could decide, another message appeared:

Sean：Angela, answer me. NOW.

The imperious tone made me want to throw the phone across the room. Instead, I typed out a quick reply:

Angela：I'm fine. Don't bother coming.

His response was immediate:

Sean：Too late. I'm already on my way.

I was about to fire back a sharp retort when I heard footsteps approaching. They were measured, unhurried-the confident stride of someone who knew exactly what kind of impression they wanted to make. I turned toward the sound, and my heart nearly stopped.

"Hello, Little Angel."

Besides my father, only one person in the world ever called me that. I should have known it was him!

Now，Christopher stood in the doorway - tall and lean, with neatly styled golden-brown hair.

His mixed Italian-British heritage was evident in his features: high cheekbones, light amber eyes, and a natural tan that spoke of his Mediterranean background. He looks much more mature and tougher than before, but compared to Sean, he has a softer vibe.

Christopher?" I exclaimed, my mouth dropping open in surprise.

"You remember me. I'm flattered."He smiled, that same devastating smile that had turned heads at every Ivy League social event years ago.

Of course I remembered. Christopher Blake, Sean's closest friend from college, had always been there in the background. He never missed a chance to remind me of my place.

Once, when I was planning Sean's birthday gift, he'd said with that knowing smile, "Sean gave Christina a sapphire necklace for her birthday this year. What did he give you? Oh right... nothing."

"What's on your mind?" Christopher crossed the room and stood beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

His eyes were locked on mine.

"You're even more beautiful than I remember, Angela," His brow furrowed slightly as he studied me. "but too thin. Much too thin. Sean hasn't been taking proper care of you, has he?"

I forced a polite smile, trying to maintain my composure. "I can take care of myself, Christopher. I always have."

His gaze dropped to my left hand, where my wedding ring caught the light.

"Yes, I suppose you have." He reached up, absently touching the tie clip I'd given him years ago-an exquisite piece of Italian craftsmanship that I'd chosen as a graduation gift. "Though some of us might wish you didn't have to."

I never expected he'd still have this tie clip. It's been five years since we last saw each other, and suddenly, all these memories came flooding back, leaving me with a warm feeling inside.

Before I could respond, he closed the distance between us in two smooth strides and pulled me into an embrace.

"I've missed you, Little Angel," he murmured against my hair. "Five years is far too long."

"Me too!"

This hug is exactly what I need right now-a genuine, comforting embrace from an old friend. It helped ease the insults and pressure I've been dealing with tonight.

But a sound of rushing footsteps interrupted me.

I turned my head just in time to see Sean burst through the doorway, his usually impeccable appearance slightly disheveled. His T-shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened-clear signs he'd rushed here straight from the office.

He froze in the doorway, taking in the scene before him.

His eyes locked onto Christopher's arms around me, and something dark and dangerous flickered across his face.