"Well, well, well… look who's here."
Calyn's voice was sultry, dripping with mockery, as she walked toward Michael's table. Immediately, four of Michael's bodyguards stepped forward, forming a wall between her and their boss.
Calyn was stunning, the kind of beauty that made heads turn the moment she opened her mouth. Every man on that floor of the restaurant glanced her way, unable to resist her allure. Even the two bodyguards closest to her visibly swallowed hard when she leaned in, deliberately pressing her body just a little closer, exuding raw, calculated seduction.
"Michael, do you know her?" Hailey asked, her eyes darting nervously between Michael and the unknown woman.
Michael gave Calyn a single glance, then returned his attention to his dinner. "She's no one important. Don't mind her."
"Awww," Calyn pouted dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. "That really hurts my poor black heart, Your Royal Douchebag."
She tilted her head, studying Hailey with a slow, deliberate gaze while her hand slid up the neck of one of the bodyguards as if they were old acquaintances. "So this is your current toy? Couldn't you find anyone else? She reeks of insecurity." To emphasize her insult, Calyn even stuck her finger in her nose.
"Who do you think you are?" Hailey snapped, losing her composure as her eyes blazed with anger. She shot up from her chair, trembling with indignation.
Michael slammed his cutlery down against the table, the sharp clatter silencing the air around them. He turned to Hailey, his expression cold. "I said, do not mind her."
Hailey froze. Tears welled in her eyes as she sank back into her seat, feeling wronged and humiliated.
"You really are a douchebag," Calyn drawled at Michael, her lips curling into a smirk. "If your girlfriend is being looked down on, especially in public, even if you don't care much about her, the manly thing to do is defend her honor."
The sting of Calyn's words cut through Hailey's anger. For the first time, she felt understood by a stranger, this woman had voiced exactly how she wished Michael would treat her.
Calyn turned to Hailey, flashing a sweet, disarming smile. "I'm Calyndris Cursedflame. But you can call me Calyn. Me and your date here… well, let's just say we can be considered family." Her gaze shifted back to Michael, her smirk returning. "Right, Your Royal Douchebag?" She laughed then, a low, sensual sound that made nearby diners glance again.
Michael, however, still refused to acknowledge her.
Calyn rolled her eyes. "You're still so full of yourself, and rude. Do you even realize that?" She scoffed, smoothing the fabric of her red, figure-hugging dress, though it wasn't wrinkled at all. With a wink at the bodyguards, who couldn't help but track the motion of her hands, she added, "I only came closer because someone told me you were looking for Seraphadneel. Okay, bye."
She spun on her heel and began to walk away.
"Stop."
Michael's commanding voice cut through the tension. Calyn froze, then turned back, a seductive smirk playing on her lips.
"Tell me," Michael ordered.
Calyn arched a brow. "What, you won't even let me sit down or offer me dinner first?" she mocked.
Michael exhaled sharply, then gave a nod. His bodyguards stepped aside, and a chair was quickly added to the table. Calyn slid gracefully into it, her perfume lingering in the air as she made herself comfortable.
Without hesitation, she reached across, took Michael's fork, and speared a slice of steak from his plate. She placed it into her mouth with deliberate slowness, eyes never leaving his.
"You know," she said between bites, her lips curving into a mischievous smile, "it's disrespectful to your fiancée to be asking around about another girl."
Hailey's head snapped toward Michael, disbelief flooding her expression.
"You're… looking for another woman?" she asked, her voice breaking.
"It does not concern you, and it will not threaten your position," was Michael's only answer to Hailey before he shifted his attention back to Calyn, who was watching Hailey with a lazy, knowing smile.
"Tell me what you know," Michael demanded. His tone was sharp, leaving no room for deflection. "Who is she, and how do you know her?"
Calyn tilted her head back toward him, one brow arching with mock amusement.
"You, a royal child, do not know her. What makes you think I would?" she replied smoothly, deliberately emphasizing royal child, a reminder that he was an archangel.
Michael's expression tightened, his jaw clenching, and Calyn's smile only widened in satisfaction.
"And I doubt the other royal children know her either," she added, her voice lilting with teasing disdain. Then, without asking, she reached for Michael's plate again, spearing another slice of steak and savoring it slowly, as though it belonged to her.
"You think I'm joking with you, Calyndris?" Michael's eyes blazed, the fury in them enough to silence anyone else.
But Calyn only laughed, a rich, sensual sound that carried across the restaurant. "And here I thought you wouldn't even say my name because it would be beneath you, Your Royal Douchebag."
"Do you think this is funny?" Michael snapped, his anger only fueling her amusement.
"I really do like it when you're in this suit," Calyn purred, reaching forward to trace the lapel of his white suit between her fingers. They both knew what she meant, the human vessel he wore. "It proves that no matter how high and mighty you pretend to be, no matter how far above us you claim to stand, you're no different from us… Blackhearts."
Blackhearts, that was what the fallen angels, those who stood beside Lucifer, called themselves.
Calyn finally set the fork down on Michael's plate, resting her chin in her hand as she gazed at him with feigned innocence.
"I don't know her," she admitted. "But I know someone who might. Seraphadneel Thirdflame, that's the name I saw carved into the wall of the private chamber of the eldest Blackheart."
Her meaning was unmistakable. She was referring to Lucifer. Michael felt the weight of it immediately.
"Lies," he hissed.
Calyn rose fluidly from her chair, her movements elegant and mocking all at once. She took Michael's wine glass without hesitation, sipping it before leaning down just enough for their eyes to lock again.
"Maybe. Maybe not," she whispered, her lips curving in a sly smirk. "But the fact remains that while you're in this suit, you cannot confirm if I'm lying or not." Her fingers brushed across his chest as she pretended to dust his suit. "And I highly doubt the other royal children know about her either."
"If that's true, then why are you telling me this?" Michael demanded, his tone low and dangerous.
"Because you're looking for her," Calyn replied, her voice velvety soft, almost intimate. "And if you wanted to confirm this with another royal, then it must mean she's important. And if the only one holding that information is our eldest brother…" She smiled, leaning closer until her lips hovered near his ear. "Then you'll never get it easily. And that makes you feel so small, so low, doesn't it? That's why we Blackhearts savor this. This is how we let you taste hell on earth, Heavensblade. And we will bask in it."
Straightening her posture with a satisfied smirk, Calyn turned her gaze toward Hailey.
"Enjoy your date," she said mockingly, before sashaying away from the table, her hips swaying deliberately with each step.
Michael stood abruptly the moment Calyn was out of sight.
"Let's go. I'll send you home," he said to Hailey, not sparing her a glance, not even waiting for her before striding out of the restaurant.
Hailey froze in surprise but quickly scrambled after him.
Inside the car, silence weighed heavily between them until Hailey finally broke it.
"That Calyn, she said she's family. But I've never seen her in any of the Heavensblade gatherings."
Michael's jaw tightened. "A family I would rather not be associated with. So do not mind her. Forget about her."
"Who is this Seraphadneel? And why are you looking for her?" Hailey pressed, her eyes searching Michael's cold, golden gaze. For a fleeting second, she caught something there, an emotion she couldn't name, one she didn't dare to.
"Stop asking questions that are none of your business and do not concern you," Michael replied sharply, his gaze fixed outside the window.
Hailey's chest constricted. "None of my business? Doesn't concern me? I am your fiancée, Michael!" she cried, her voice breaking as the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over.
Only then did Michael turn to her. His hand moved with surprising gentleness, brushing away the tear on her cheek. Hailey leaned instinctively into his touch, until his next words froze her.
"And I can always make you not my fiancée anytime," he said calmly.
Yellow had always been Hailey's favorite color. The color of the sun, the color of warmth. More than anything, it was the color of Michael's eyes. Yet unlike the sun, his golden gaze had never given her warmth. It had always been cold. Just like now.
He had reminded her once again that he could replace her at any moment. That she was nothing more than something he could discard, just as Calyn had said, Michael's toy. Something he could switch out when he grew tired.
"Stop the car. I want to get off here," Hailey said, her voice trembling but resolute.
"We're still far from your house," Michael replied coldly.
"I don't care!" Hailey shouted. "Stop the car! I said I want to get off here!"
"Stop the car," Michael ordered, his tone like ice. The driver obeyed immediately. As soon as the vehicle halted, Michael himself opened the door beside Hailey so she could step out.
Hailey looked up at him in disbelief. "You're not even going to stop me?"
"You wanted to get off here, didn't you? Why would I stop you?" Michael replied flatly.
Her heart twisted painfully. With a choked sound of frustration, Hailey climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. The instant she did, Michael's car pulled away, his bodyguards' vehicles following close behind.
"Michael!" Hailey screamed, her voice raw, watching in shock as he left her standing alone on the roadside. "Calyn was right, you really are such a douchebag!"
Her tears finally fell uncontrollably as she stared after the retreating cars, her chest heaving with anger and despair.
"I hate you," she whispered, so softly it was almost a plea, as if he could still hear her through the distance. "I hate you so much."
Hailey didn't know how long she stood frozen in place, staring into the direction Michael's car had taken. Her heart silently begged, prayed even, that he might turn around, come back for her, and coax her back into his arms.
"Why are you fooling yourself, Hailey?" she whispered brokenly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "He will never turn back. Because that's who Michael is. He never waits for anyone. He never turns back for anyone… not even for you."
Hugging herself, not only against the chill of the night air but against the deeper cold gnawing at her heart, Hailey finally forced her legs to move. She began walking, her heels clicking faintly against the pavement.
She could have called her parents, asked the driver to pick her up. But she didn't. Because she knew they would ask what had happened. And if they learned the truth, they wouldn't comfort her, they would scold her.
For the Carter family, it was the greatest honor that among all the women tied to the Heavensblade, it was Hailey whom Michael had chosen as his fiancée. That meant she had no right to question him. All she was expected to do was obey, say yes to whatever Michael wanted, whether she liked it or not.
"Hi, miss. Need a ride?" a man's voice called out.
The sudden voice startled her. A motorcycle pulled up beside her, the rider removing his helmet.
She opened her mouth to snap at the stranger but froze when she recognized him.
"Flynn?" she asked hesitantly.
"Flynn Drilon, at your service, madame," Flynn replied with a wide, easy grin as he dismounted, holding his arms open in invitation.
Relief broke Hailey's composure. Tears blurred her vision as she ran to him and collapsed into his embrace, sobbing uncontrollably.
Flynn wrapped his arms around her, his hand gently rubbing her back in slow, soothing motions. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay," he murmured softly, over and over, letting her cry until the storm inside her eased.
He didn't mind how long she wept. He simply stood there, solid and steady, offering her his quiet strength.
At last, when her tears subsided, Hailey pulled back slightly, sniffling. "I'm sorry," she whispered between hiccups.
Flynn chuckled lightly and handed her his handkerchief. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I told you before, if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'll always be here."
He gently brushed a few strands of her hair away from her damp cheeks. "But why are you out here alone on the side of the road? Where's your driver?"
"I didn't have one tonight," Hailey admitted. "I… I had a date with Michael, and I threw a tantrum."
Flynn blinked at her in disbelief. "So he just left you here? Alone?"
"It's not his fault," Hailey said quickly, shaking her head. "I was the one who insisted."
Flynn exhaled heavily, shaking his head in frustration. "Stop covering for him, Hail. I really don't get why you're so in love with that ice statue. I mean, yeah, he's handsome, rich, intelligent… but he's also cruel, arrogant, and acts like he's above everyone else. He doesn't deserve a lovely girl like you."
Hailey's lips twisted bitterly. "What? Do you want to be my boyfriend instead?"
Flynn flicked her forehead lightly, making her flinch. "Don't be gross. You know I like boys too."
Hailey pouted, lips trembling but finally curving into a small smile. "You're one of the reasons there are so few gentlemen left for us girls. You're sweet and kind, but you prefer boys. So you don't get to complain when we end up settling for red flags."
That made both of them laugh, the sound breaking the tension of the night, easing Hailey's pain if only for a moment.