Chapter 172 - ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO

Chapter 172: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO

ANGEL

The mansion looked exactly the way it did before I left.

But it felt different.

Or maybe I was different.

Vincenzo carried me through the front doors despite my protests and didn’t set me down until we reached his bedroom.

"Rest," he said, lowering me onto the bed like I was made of porcelain. "I need to handle some things. I’ll be in my study."

His study was just the next door.

"What things?"

"Business stuff." He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips warm against my skin, "It’s just a few calls. Nothing you need to worry about."

He left.

I looked around Daddy’s room. The massive bed with its dark sheets. The heavy curtains blocking out the late evening sun.

It sort of felt like a dream, all those times I dreamt about being back here, surrounded by the familiar scent of Daddy’s cologne soaked into every surface.

I snooped around a bit, I just wanted to see what Daddy had been up to while I’d been away.

My things were still here. My pajamas in his wardrobe, folded neatly on the shelf where I’d always kept them. A picture of me on the nightstand, smiling at the camera, frozen in a moment from before everything went wrong.

Almost as though I’d never left.

It brought tears to my eyes. A tightness in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

Most of all, I was wondering. If I’d not been taken by Damien, how far would we have taken our relationship? Would we be here now, in this room, maybe married by now?

Damien ruined that. Us. Again.

And despite knowing Damien was all evil, why did this part of me still miss him? I wanted to erase him, but he wouldn’t leave. His voice still echoed in my skull. His touch still ghosted across my skin when I closed my eyes.

I pressed my hand to my belly, feeling the small swell beneath my palm. There was a baby in there. Daddy’s baby. Growing inside me, oblivious to the chaos of the world outside, and the storm in my mind.

I wanted to be happy.

I was happy.

Very happy.

And yet, so confused, because the stubborn knot in my chest refused to leave. Damien had carved himself into me, and I couldn’t seem to cut him out completely.

What’s wrong with me?

I must have fallen asleep at some point, because when I opened my eyes again, the room was dark.

The bed beside me was empty. Was Daddy still in his study?

I sat up slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the dimness. His side of the bed was cold; Daddy hadn’t been here at all. The pillow was smooth, untouched. He’d never come to bed.

Where is he?

I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor, as I padded out of the room.

I pushed the next door open, it was quiet as I walked inside his study.

Through the glass door and on the balcony, I could see a figure silhouetted against the night sky. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. The unmistakable outline of the man who owned me.

I eased the door open and stepped out into the cool night air. It kissed my skin, raising goosebumps along my arms, but I barely noticed. My attention was fixed on him.

Vincenzo stood at the railing, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring out at nothing.

He didn’t turn when I approached, but I knew he was aware of me.

"Can’t sleep?" I asked softly, coming to stand beside him.

"No."

"What are you thinking about?"

He took a long sip of his whiskey, the ice clinking against the glass.

"Nothing."

Liar.

I could almost see the thoughts churning behind his dark eyes. He was wrestling with something—demons I couldn’t see, ghosts I couldn’t fight for him.

Damien’s probably.

"Daddy," I called softly.

He turned to look at me then, his dark eyes drinking me in. The intensity of his gaze made my breath catch.

He watched as I approached, his body still. I hugged him, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his chest to hear his heart beat strong beneath my ear. Alive. Here with me.

"Are you worried about me?" I peered up at him.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer, and I felt him exhale.

"I want to fix things," he said, his voice muffled against my hair. "I just don’t know how to get back to how we were. You wanting me without his shadows lurking. I want to erase his ghost from haunting our lives."

My heart clenched.

Daddy knew I was still being hunted by Damien’s death. Shame curled in my stomach, hot and sour.

I was hurting Daddy. Even now, without meaning to, without wanting to, I was hurting him. And I didn’t know how to stop.

I didn’t know how to chase Damien’s ghost away.

Daddy’s arms tightened around me, and his fingers touched my stomach just slightly. A gentle brush against the swell.

"In all of this, I’m so glad the baby is mine. Ours. Everything about him is gone for good," he murmured.

My throat clogged, I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over. "He said you’d resent us both eventually. That you’d look at me and only see what he did. That every time you saw the baby, you’d never want me back—"

Daddy pulled back and looked at me straight in the eyes. "Even if the child was his, I would never hate it or you." His gaze was fierce. Burning. And I saw the earnest truth in it. "Damien was a liar."

The words came out vicious, sharp enough to cut.

"Everything he ever told you was a lie. Every single thing. The bullshit about me resenting you. All of it." His hands moved to my face again, tilting my chin up, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, but there was something fierce burning behind his coal-like gaze. "You’re my baby girl. I could never resent you. Ever. You’re my world, Angel. You’ve always been my world. Nothing he did—nothing he said—can change that."

And with those words coming from Daddy’s mouth, something clicked in my brain.

’Damien was a liar.’

The thought unfurled slowly, spreading through my consciousness like light chasing away shadows. He lied about the baby being his. He lied about Vincenzo not wanting me.

He lied about everything.

Which means...

He lied about coming back.

The realization hit me like waking up from a nightmare. Damien’s taunting voice in my head—’I always come back’—suddenly sounded different. Less like a prophecy and more like another manipulation. Another lie designed to keep him alive in my mind even after Vincenzo had put bullets in his body.

Liars don’t keep their promises.

Liars don’t get to haunt you.

"He lied," I whispered, pulling back just enough to look at Vincenzo’s face. There was something almost hopeful in his expression now. "About everything. About loving me. About coming back for me."

"Yes."

"He’s never coming back." I said it like I was testing the words. Tasting them and allowing them to settle on my tongue to see if they felt true. "He can’t come back. Because everything he said was a lie, and liars don’t keep their promises."

Vincenzo’s hands tightened on my face. His thumbs traced my cheekbones, wiping away the tears that kept falling despite my best efforts to stop them.

"That’s right, baby girl." His voice was low but fierce. "He was nothing but lies. And lies can’t hurt you. Not anymore."

For the first time since the rescue, the ghost in the mirror lost its power.

Damien’s smile in the back of my mind faded. I could feel his voice growing quieter. And quieter. The cold grip he’d had on my mind loosened, just a little. Just enough.

Because how could I be haunted by a man whose every word was a lie? How could I fear the return of someone who never told me a single truth?

Liars don’t get to haunt you.

Liars just... disappear.

"It’s over," I whispered, almost to myself. Trying out the words again and feeling their weight with full conviction this time. "It’s really over."

"It’s over," Vincenzo confirmed. His forehead pressed against mine, his breath warm on my lips, "And now we can begin again,"