Angel's POV
The night had been a whirlwind, and even now, my thoughts were still tangled in it. Back in the room after that charged encounter with King, the girls immediately pounced on me—asking where I'd been, why I looked dazed, why I couldn't meet their eyes.
I brushed them off with a nervous laugh. "Just tired," I said, hiding the truth. "Nothing to worry about."
But my mind refused to rest. Every nerve in my body replayed the moment—his nearness, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was something dangerous, something forbidden. The moment felt too intimate to share, especially with his little sister—my best friend—sitting right there.
Morning arrived in soft gold light. I stayed under the blankets, half-asleep, half-pretending, hoping to catch my breath before facing reality.
The bedroom door creaked.
"Angel, wake up," Kelly whispered, barely containing a grin.
I groaned and buried my face deeper in the pillow.
"You're not going to believe this…King's here. Like, actually here." Her grin widened. My stomach twisted. Last night hadn't been a dream.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," she added, eyes sparkling.
"I—I'm sleepy," I muttered, swatting at her. Cheeks flaming.
Lisa appeared at the doorway, smirking. "Don't glare at me. I didn't know he'd be home this early."
"He's downstairs, and from the looks of it, in a good mood. So maybe you won't faint this time," Kelly teased.
"Wow. That's comforting," I said dryly, slipping out of bed.
A quick shower later, I dressed carefully—nothing flashy, nothing too plain—just something that made me feel like myself. I needed control over at least one thing: my appearance.
I stepped into the hallway—and froze.
King emerged from the stairs just as I moved forward. Our paths collided.
My breath hitched. His stormy gaze met mine, and suddenly the air felt impossibly tight. Part of me wanted to retreat, but I forced myself to stand tall. I wasn't a child. Not for him.
He stopped, impossibly close, calm in a way that made my pulse spike. As if last night's encounter hadn't been dangerous. As if rules never applied to him.
"I could get used to waking up to this sight," he said, a corner of his mouth lifting in a low, teasing smirk.
My face burned. Words failed me.
"Good morning," I finally breathed, trying for casual.
He chuckled softly—warm, deep, deliberate—as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
"Good morning, princess," he said, stepping aside just enough for me to pass, eyes still locked on mine. "Breakfast?"
I nodded too quickly, practically bolting toward the kitchen. The word echoed in my mind: Princess.
---
Kitchen Sparks
Angel's POV
The kitchen hummed with quiet clinks of dishes. Lisa and Kelly chatted—until they saw me, and then their grins widened like they'd spotted trouble.
No escaping the teasing.
I rolled my eyes and settled at the table, clutching my mug.
And then the energy shifted.
King entered. Tall. Broody. In a tailored suit that refused to hide the hard lines of his muscles. He moved with calm authority, silent, deliberate. No smirk. No teasing. Just the stern, unreadable version of him that filled the room without a single word.
I tried to look unaffected, but the girls were already exchanging subtle glances.
"So…" Kelly whispered to Lisa, "Angel has been floating since last night."
Lisa stifled a laugh. "It's hilarious."
I shot them a warning glare. "Stop."
"Flustered?" Kelly smirked. "You absolutely are."
I buried my face behind my mug. Pulse betraying me.
King didn't glance my way at first—a rule he seemed to have when others were around. But for a brief second, his eyes swept the room… and landed on me. Just enough to make my heart skip.
Lisa elbowed Kelly. "There it is again—the dreamy look from last night!"
"Stop it!" I hissed, nearly knocking over my fork.
King lifted his coffee, sipped slowly, silent and controlled. His presence alone made the room feel smaller.
After a moment, he set the cup down and walked toward the stairs without a word. Once he disappeared, the girls exhaled, teasing resuming immediately.
"You're doomed," Kelly whispered, eyes gleaming.
Lisa grinned. "Just enjoy it. Men like him don't stroll into kitchens every day."
I groaned into my hands. "I am not enjoying it."
Kelly poked my side. "Sure, sure…keep telling yourself that."
The kitchen door opened again, and my heart lurched.
King stood there. Close. His dark eyes catching the sunlight, sharp, unreadable. He didn't smile. He didn't move. He just watched.
"Angel," he said, voice low and clipped.
My chest raced. Fingers clenched around my mug.
"We need to talk."
The words fell like a stone between us. Suddenly the room shrank to just him and me. The girls were quiet, curious, frozen—sensing the shift.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
And I knew, with sinking certainty, whatever he wanted to say would change everything.