ANNA'S POV
A profound silence settled over the kitchen, broken only by the sound of Angel's ragged breathing. She had reached the end of her devastating confession.
"To make matters infinitely worse, I called my mom. I told her everything, but she simply refused to believe me and demanded tangible evidence," Angel continued, her voice trembling.
"Desperate for proof, I drove back to Alex's house to check if they were still there, but of course, they had gone. I finally decided to head back to my hotel room at the City Choice Hotel—just to try and cool off my head. But when I reached my room, I encountered the most shocking, sickening sight: Alex was there, having sex with three different girls, including Annabelle. As if what he did with her earlier in the house hadn't been enough, the brute was having a full-blown orgy."
Angel finished, her voice breaking completely, still completely lost in the deluge of her tears.
I was so utterly shocked to hear her final revelation that I immediately recoiled, withdrawing myself and releasing her from the protective embrace of my arm.
"What!" I shouted, the word catching in my throat. "What kind of monstrous man is he? Someone who is actively planning his wedding next week? Next Saturday, he is supposed to be standing at the altar, promising you 'for better or for worse,' yet this is how he behaves?"
"And that promise will not be made," Angel declared, furiously wiping away the residual tears streaking her face.
"I've already told him that I absolutely cannot marry him."
A sudden, heavy silence descended upon the kitchen. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain collected, because I knew Alex too well. He was not a man who accepted defeat easily, especially when it came to ownership.
He was a ruthless billionaire; he had the financial means and the overwhelming influence to get whatever he wanted, even if it meant resorting to aggressive tactics or outright force.
My mind immediately flashed to the potential legal nightmare—he might drag Angel to court, demanding restitution for every exorbitant cent he had spent on her.
"And what exactly was his precise reply to this ultimatum?" I asked, my voice low now, eager to gauge the scale of his inevitable reaction.
"That arrogant fool," Angel spat, the raw pain momentarily replaced by white-hot fury. "He told me, right to my face, that countless other women desire him, and he chose me. He claimed that I don't have the right to break up with him. But this time, he will certainly see my reaction."
With that final, trembling statement, Angel abruptly turned and stormed toward the door, tossing over her shoulder that she would see me later.
"Angel, wait! Where are you going so suddenly? At least let's finish the cooking so you can eat something before you leave," I pleaded, trying urgently to call her back.
"I'm going to my house. We'll talk later," she shot back, bursting through the back door. I followed her automatically, watching as she practically threw herself into her sleek car and sped away without a backward glance, the tires spitting gravel.
A profound sense of helplessness washed over me, overwhelmed by my best friend's devastating predicament. I recalled the endless stories she used to tell—how she would constantly praise Alex, showering him with sweet, idealized names that were so convincing they almost made a person reject their own fiancé in favor of 'her type' of man.
And now, the true, repulsive Alex had decided to pay her back with soul-crushing heartbreak. I slowly walked back to the stove, determined to finish the preparation of the elaborate meal before my own fiancé arrived.
Only a few minutes later, Frank—freshly showered and wrapped in a crisp robe—strolled into the kitchen and found me in the middle of stirring a pot.
"Where's your friend, Angel?" he asked casually, leaning against the doorframe.
"She has gone," I replied curtly, not bothering to lift my gaze from the simmering sauce.
"That was a rather sudden departure, wasn't it?" Frank pressed.
"Nothing much," I said, keeping my focus absolute, "she just realized she had another appointment she needed to catch up with." I continued to concentrate intensely on my cooking, resolutely refusing to look up.