Chapter 22 – BELLA
CHAPTER 22
BELLA
I t's been a full day since I learned about Heather's threats, and the knowledge sits like a lead weight in my stomach. Every shadow, every unexpected noise makes me jump. I find myself constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if today will be the day she tries again.
But today, I push those dark thoughts aside.
Because today, I finally get to see Skye.
My best friend braved LA traffic just to have coffee with me. The fact that she was willing to do that means more than I can say. It's been far too long since I've seen a friendly face that doesn't come with a pile of complications and existential panic.
As I walk into the quiet coffee shop, flanked by Troy, Liam, and Savva, I can't help but smile. They're trying so hard to be inconspicuous, but it's a lost cause. Their massive frames and intense presence draw curious stares from other patrons. Especially Savva, who looks like he just stepped out of a GQ photoshoot in his perfectly tailored suit.
I spot Skye immediately. Her purple-tipped hair stands out, even here. When she sees me, her face lights up, and she practically leaps out of her chair to engulf me in a hug.
"Oh my God, Bella!" she squeals, squeezing me tight. "I've missed you so much!"
I hug her back just as fiercely, realizing how touch-starved I've been. Braxley isn't exactly the cuddly type, and the alphas...
Well, that's complicated.
As we pull apart, Skye's eyes widen as she takes in my escort. She practically chokes on the latte she just took a sip of. "Holy shit," she whispers to me, her eyes darting between Troy, Liam, and Savva. "My stalking did not do them justice."
I can't help but laugh at her expression. It's a mix of awe and unbridled lust. "Down, girl," I tease. "They're here to protect us, not to be ogled."
"Speak for yourself," Skye mutters, her eyes fixed on Savva as he approaches the counter to order. Even I have to admit, he manages to make ordering a simple espresso look like a scene from an art film. His long fingers gesture gracefully as he speaks to the barista, his voice a melodious rumble.
Troy, never one to miss an opportunity, catches Skye staring and throws her a playful wink. I watch in amusement as my usually unflappable friend blushes furiously, nearly knocking over her latte in her flustered state.
As I order my own latte and we settle into our seats, I can't help but notice the way Liam prowls the perimeter of the coffee shop. He looks like a tattooed warrior god, all rippling muscles and intense focus. More than one patron nearly walks into a table, too distracted by his presence to watch where they're going.
"So," Skye says, leaning in close once she's recovered from her initial shock. "Spill. What's really going on? You look... different."
I blink, surprised by her observation. "Different how?"
She studies me for a moment, her head tilted to the side. "I don't know. You're carrying yourself differently. There's a spark in your eyes that wasn't there before. But you also seem... tense. Like you're ready to bolt at any second."
I let out a shaky breath. Leave it to Skye to see right through me. "That obvious, huh?"
She reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. Now come on, tell me everything."
So I do. Over lattes—and Skye's not-so-subtle ogling of the alphas—I fill her in on everything that's happened. The behind-the-scenes details of the assassination attempt in Spain, the threats from Heather, my growing doubts about marrying Braxley. And, because I can never hide anything from Skye, my confusion and guilt over how close I'm getting to the Vanguard Pack.
Skye, being Skye, doesn't hold back her opinions. "Okay, let me get this straight," she says, her voice low but intense. "You've got a psycho ex of Braxley's trying to kill you, a fiancé who cares more about his follower count than your safety, and five smoking hot alphas who are literally willing to die to protect you. And you're confused about what to do?"
I wince at her blunt assessment. "It's not that simple, Skye."
"Isn't it?" she challenges. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty damn clear. Braxley is a self-absorbed asshat who cares more about his followers than your safety. These guys?" She jerks her thumb toward Troy, who's pretending to be very interested in the pastry display. "They actually seem to give a shit about you."
I can't argue with her logic, but still, I hesitate. "But my family?—"
"Fuck your family," Skye interrupts, her eyes flashing. "I'm sorry, Bella, but they don't get to pimp you out to the highest bidder just because they can't manage their own finances."
Her words hit me like a slap, but I know she's right. I've known it for a while now, but hearing it said out loud makes it impossible to ignore.
"Tell me about them," Skye says, her voice softer now. "The alphas. What are they really like?"
I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. "They're... amazing. Complicated in their own ways, but amazing." I tell her about my training sessions with Liam, how he's teaching me to defend myself. How Troy always knows how to make me laugh, even on my darkest days. How Savva can make even the most mundane task look elegant.
"And what about the other two who are stuck on Braxleysitting duty?" Skye prompts. "Roman and... Cole, right?"
I nod, a strange warmth spreading through my chest at the mention of their names. "Roman is the Vanguard Pack's leader. He's intense, always so focused on keeping everyone safe. But there are moments when I see this softness in him, this vulnerability he tries so hard to hide."
"And Cole?" Skye asks, leaning in closer.
I hesitate, not sure how to describe the enigma that is Cole. "He's... probably the most complicated," I say finally, trying to come up with a way to describe him without betraying his privacy. "He keeps to himself most of the time. Doesn't talk much. I thought he hated me. But he carved me this." I pull the wooden duck out of my purse, where I've been carrying it like a talisman.
Skye's eyes widen as she takes in the intricate details of the carving. "Holy shit, Bella. It's beautiful." She looks up at me, a knowing glint in her eye. "He made this for you?"
I nod, feeling a blush creep up my neck. "Yeah. At that park I love."
She waggles her eyebrows at me. "You went to that romantic little park with a Vanguard alpha?"
"It wasn't like that," I mumble.
"Sure," she says in a clearly disbelieving tone.
"It wasn't," I protest, a bit more firmly this time. "He was stressed out, so we went to the park to cool off. That's all."
Skye's eyebrows shoot up. "Okay, back up. You're going to need to explain that one. Because you know how I feel about alphas who need to 'cool off.'"
So I do. I tell her about finding Cole in the alley, about patching him up afterward. As I talk, I can't help but notice the way Skye's expression changes. She's looking at me like she's seeing me for the first time.
"What?" I ask, self-conscious under her scrutiny.
"Nothing," she says, but her tone tells me it's definitely not nothing. "It's just... the way you talk about him. About all of them, really. I've never heard you sound like this before."
I fidget with the lid of my latte cup, not sure how to respond. "They're just... they're good guys, Skye. They've been through so much, and they still manage to be kind and protective and..."
"Sexy as hell?" Skye supplies with a grin.
I laugh, feeling some of the tightness ease from my shoulders. "Yeah, that too."
Skye's expression turns serious again. "Can I ask you something? And I want you to be honest with me, okay?"
I nod, a bit wary of what's coming.
"Do you have feelings for them?"
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. I open my mouth to deny it, to laugh it off, but the words stick in my throat.
Because the truth is, I don't know.
What I feel for the Vanguard Pack is unlike anything I've ever experienced before. It's not just attraction, though God knows they're all unfairly gorgeous. It's deeper than that. A connection that feels almost... fated.
"I... I don't know," I admit finally. "It's all so confusing. I mean, I'm engaged. Or almost engaged. I shouldn't be having these feelings."
Skye reaches across the table to take my hand. "Bella, honey, listen to me. You don't owe Braxley anything. You didn't ask to be in a relationship with him. I get that these alphas aren't 'normal,' but nothing about this situation is normal."
I shake my head, feeling overwhelmed. "It's not that simple. And it isn't about normalcy, it's just…" I trail off, losing my train of thought. I'm not even sure what I was about to say before I got lost.
It's just what? My family who doesn't even like me half the time? Obligations and expectations?
"No," Skye agrees. "It's not simple. But nothing worth having ever is." She squeezes my hand. "Just... promise me you'll think about it, okay? Really think about what you want, not what everyone else wants for you."
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I promise."
We sit in companionable silence for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. Then Skye's eyes light up with that mischievous glint I know all too well.
"So," she says, a grin spreading across her face. "Tell me more about Cole. I couldn't find any pictures of him online other than one ancient one from when he was in basic training. What's his deal?"
I hesitate, not sure how much to share. Cole's past isn't mine to tell, but I also know Skye won't let this go. "He... was injured," I say carefully. "I don't really know how, but I know he was in the military like the rest of the Vanguard Pack. He has some pretty severe scarring."
Skye's expression softens. "Oh, shit. Is that why I couldn't find any recent pictures?"
I nod. "Yeah, he avoids cameras like the plague. The scars are just part of it. He's been through a lot, I think. More than any of the others, maybe."
Skye leans in, her eyes alight with interest. "But he made you that duck. That's got to mean something, right?"
I sigh, glancing down at the wooden carving that's still cradled in my hands. The lines of the feathers ground me as I rub the pad of my thumb over them. "I don't know. Maybe. It's hard to tell with Cole. One minute he's opening up, and the next he's shutting down completely."
Just then, Savva walks past our table for what must be the third time in the last fifteen minutes. His eyes scan the coffee shop with laser focus, but I catch the way his gaze lingers on me for just a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
"Girl," Skye says, fanning herself dramatically, "if you don't want these alphas, I will gladly take them off your hands. Especially Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Sophisticated over there."
I can't help but laugh at her antics. "Skye!"
"What?" she says innocently. "I'm just saying, if you're not interested..."
"I didn't say I wasn't interested," I mutter before I can stop myself.
Skye's eyes widen, and I realize my mistake too late. "Oh my God, you are into them!"
"Shh!" I hiss, glancing around nervously. Troy and Liam are pretending not to listen, but I catch the way Troy glances at us, his eyebrows shooting up for a millisecond before he pointedly stares back at the pastries. "It's not... I mean, I can't..."
Skye's expression softens. "Bella, honey, listen to me. You don't owe Braxley anything. You don't owe your family anything. The only person you owe anything to is yourself."
"But what if I'm wrong?" I murmur. "What if I'm just... confused?"
"Then you figure it out," Skye says firmly. "But you do it on your terms. Not Braxley's, not your family's, not anyone else's. Yours."
The laugh bubbling up in my throat breaks off. "When did you get so wise?" I ask hoarsely.
Skye grins. "I've always been wise, babe. You've just been too busy playing Stepford Wife to notice."
I laugh again, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. This is why I love Skye. She always knows how to cut through my bullshit and make me see things clearly.
But then her expression turns serious. "Now, tell me more about this Heather bitch. What exactly has she been saying? I know you couldn't say much over text."
I feel my stomach clench at the mention of Heather. It's been easier, somehow, to focus on my confused feelings for the Vanguard Pack than to think about the very real threat hanging over my head.
"It's... pretty bad," I admit, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Remember the fan who spilled a drink on me at that event?"
"Yes," Skye says warily.
"Well, she's been leaving these comments on Braxley's social media. At first, they seemed harmless. Just typical fan stuff, you know? But then they started getting more... possessive. Aggressive."
Skye's eyes narrow. "What kind of aggressive?"
I swallow hard. "She called me a slut. Used a knife emoji."
"That fucking bitch," Skye hisses, starting to shred the napkin she's been picking at on the table. "I'll kill her myself."
"Skye, no," I say, reaching out to grab her hand. "It's not... I mean, it's just words, right?"
But even as I say it, I know it's not true. The Vanguard Pack wouldn't be taking this so seriously if it was just an overenthusiastic fan. There's more to it. There has to be.
"Bella," Skye says, her voice low and intense. "This isn't just words. This is a threat. A very real, very dangerous threat. You can't brush this off."
I nod, feeling the weight of the situation settle over me once again. "I know. The pack... they think she might have been involved in the shooting in Spain."
Skye's eyes widen. "Holy shit. Are you serious?"
I nod again, my throat tight. "When she spilled that drink on me, she insisted on helping me clean up in the bathroom. And she kept asking all these questions about Braxley, about our relationship. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now..."
"Now you realize she was pumping you for information," Skye finishes, her face grim.
I nod, feeling sick to my stomach. "God, Skye, I was so stupid. I should have known something was off."
"You are not stupid," Skye says firmly, reaching out to grab my hand. "This is not your fault, Bella. You hear me? This psycho bitch and whoever she's working with are the ones to blame. Not you."
I squeeze her hand, grateful for her unwavering support. "I just... I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Skye's eyes flick to where Troy, Liam, and Savva are standing, pretending to be interested in their coffees. Savva's the only one who looks like he belongs in a coffee shop. "Well, at least you've got some seriously capable protection. And let's be real, they're not hard on the eyes either."
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can't help but laugh.
"What?" she says innocently. "I'm just stating facts. Those alphas look like they could bench press a car while reciting Shakespeare."
I roll my eyes, but I can't deny the warm feeling that spreads through my chest at her words. Because she's right. The Vanguard Pack isn't just physically imposing, although they certainly are that.
"You're right," I say. "And I do need to figure this out. All of it. Braxley, the Vanguard Pack, what I want for my future. I can't keep living like this, always trying to please everyone else."
Skye grins, raising her coffee cup in a mock toast. "That's my girl. To new beginnings and telling assholes to fuck off."
I laugh, clinking my cup against hers. "To new beginnings."
Skye leans in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, are you going to introduce me to these hunky alphas or what? I mean, I've been shamelessly ogling them this whole time. The least you could do is let me actually talk to them."
I laugh, shaking my head at her boldness. But why not? It's not like they haven't been listening to every word we've said anyway. "Alright, alright. I'll call them over. But behave yourself, okay?"
She puts on an exaggerated innocent expression. "Me? I'm always on my best behavior."
"Sure you are," I snort, then turn in my seat. Troy, Liam, and Savva are all pointedly not looking in our direction, but I can see the way their bodies are angled toward us, alert and ready for any sign of trouble. It's both comforting and a little unnerving to be the focus of such intense attention.
I catch Troy's eye and wave him over. He grins, nudging Liam and Savva. As they approach our table, I feel a flutter of nerves in my stomach. It's silly—I've been living with these men for days now—but something about introducing them to Skye makes this all feel more... real. Like I'm acknowledging that they're more than just bodyguards to me.
"Guys," I say as they reach us, "I'd like you to meet my best friend, Skye. Skye, this is Troy, Liam, and Savva."
Skye's eyes go wide as she takes in the full impact of the alphas up close. I can practically see her brain short-circuiting. "Holy shit," she breathes, then claps a hand over her mouth. "I mean, uh, nice to meet you."
Troy laughs, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Nice to meet you too, Skye. Bella's told us a lot about you."
"All good things, I hope," Skye says, recovering some of her usual sass.
"Oh, you know, only the most embarrassing stories," I say with a grin, unable to resist teasing Skye a little. Her eyes widen in mock horror, and I can't help but laugh. It feels good to laugh, to feel normal for a moment.
But even as I banter with Skye and watch her flirt shamelessly with the alphas, I can't shake the undercurrent of anxiety thrumming through my body. The threat of Heather looms large in my mind, a dark cloud on the horizon of this brief moment of levity.
After all, that's why the Vanguard alphas are here.
Troy leans against our table, his easy smile belying the alert gleam in his eyes as he scans the coffee shop. "So, Skye," he says, his voice light but with an undercurrent of something I can't quite place, "Bella tells us you're a nurse. That must be exciting."
Skye snorts, taking a sip of her latte. "Oh yeah, nothing more thrilling than getting pissed and shit on by entitled patients who think five minutes of Googling makes them more qualified than actual medical professionals."
I watch as Troy's grin widens, a spark of genuine interest in his eyes. He and Skye start sharing stories as I relax and listen, sipping my latte and letting my mind wander. It's strange, seeing the Vanguard alphas interact with someone outside our little bubble. A reminder that there's a whole world beyond the penthouse and the Vanguard Pack.
It's strange, but I can't help but feel like something has shifted. The world hasn't changed. Heather is still out there, Braxley is still my almost-fiancé, and I'm still tangled up in a web of family expectations and societal pressures.
But I've changed.
Or maybe I'm just starting to remember who I was before all of this. The Bella who painted for the joy of it, who dreamed of an impossible life filled with love and laughter. She's still in there, buried beneath years of people-pleasing and self-doubt.
And it's time to let her out.