Chapter 6
Hazel
I stared at Tyler outside.
Hands shoved in his pockets, that cocky grin plastered on his face—the one I used to think was charming. Now it just made me sick.
He actually had the nerve to show up after screwing the woman who tormented me.
I threw the filthy rag onto the counter and shoved through the coffee shop's glass door, walking straight up to him.
"Took me forever to track you down, Hazel." Tyler braced his hands against the wall, looming over me.
"Why haven't you answered any of my texts? Do you have any idea how much time I've spent looking for you?"
His tone dripped with righteous indignation. Not a shred of guilt or shame about cheating. Like he was certain I was just throwing some petty tantrum.
I straightened up and stared at the face I'd loved for a whole year.
The face I'd washed endless dishes for, just to buy him an expensive watch.
Now I just felt like an idiot.
"What are you doing here, Tyler? We're done. Completely done. There's nothing between us anymore."
"What the hell are you so worked up about?" His voice turned sharper.
He actually thought I was throwing a fit.
I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.
"At the party, I was behind that marble sculpture in the garden." I locked eyes with him. "I heard every second of you fucking Lacey Monroe. You two made me sick. Do I really need to give you any other reason for this breakup?"
Tyler's expression flickered, but he recovered fast.
He even laughed. "So what?"
"I heard everything. You and that bitch. You really think I need to explain why we're done?"
Tyler's face barely changed. He'd clearly expected this.
Without a hint of panic, he pulled out a chair from the patio set and dropped into it.
"Relax, babe." He spread his hands, voice impossibly casual. "Guys get drunk at parties. They need some fun. You can't throw away a whole year over something so small."
"Small? You're calling cheating and betrayal small?"
"She's Lacey Monroe." His eyes glinted with amusement. "You should be proud. Proves your boyfriend's got game."
I froze.
This was the real Tyler.
I'd always been insecure, drawn to his confidence. But I never realized his confidence was this pathetic—that he actually thought cheating was something to brag about.
His shamelessness shattered everything I thought I knew.
"You disgust me, Tyler. Get out. We're done." I grabbed the door handle.
I should've listened to Anya's warning. She always had better judgment about men than I did.
But Tyler shot up from his chair and grabbed my wrist, blocking my path.
"Stop acting crazy, Hazel." He leaned in close, smiling.
Tyler's smile had always been deceptive. To anyone watching, this probably looked like a couple's little spat about to end in a dramatic reconciliation.
I even heard some guys inside the coffee shop hooting with excitement, followed by a few suggestive whistles.
But outside, this handsome young boyfriend spewed poison.
"Hazel, look at yourself. You're plain. Chubby. Look at those ridiculous freckles. I told you to get work done, but you never would. You wouldn't even sleep with me. Pathetic. Dating you for a year was charity. You really think I should stay faithful to a girl like you?"
He finally ripped off the mask, exposing the contempt underneath.
My heart clenched like someone had squeezed it in their fist.
I thought his words in the garden had hurt enough. But I'd been wrong. These two years of love were just my fantasy. That gentle, confident boyfriend never respected me at all.
To him, I was just some dumpy girl lucky to have him. It was charity.
He never saw me as his equal.
I yanked my arm free and stepped back.
I tried to hold it in, but tears came anyway.
"If you never respected me," my voice shook, "why did you date me?"
Tyler laughed and leaned close to my ear. "Don't you know?"
It hit me suddenly. Tyler had chased Anya first. When that failed, he turned to me.
At the start of school, he'd courted Anya. When he came to me later, he said that was just a passing thing—I was the real deal. I believed him.
But the truth was Tyler only ever wanted to get close to Anya.
"Because of Anya?" I couldn't believe it.
"Finally using that brain." He patted my cheek like praising a pet. "Dating you got me in with Anya. You have any idea what that's done for me?"
I felt sick.
Anya must've known all along. She knew Tyler's real motive for dating me, but she never said anything because of my feelings for him. She just kept warning me. Kept trying to protect me.
She'd always been protecting me.
"Anya's family is bigger than you can imagine.
" Tyler bent to my ear. "Just knowing her gets my family respect from the underground.
So go make up with her, Hazel. I promise—" He lifted his hand and pinched my cheek like soothing a child.
"I'll marry you. How's that? Isn't that what you've always wanted? "
I stared at his face. Nausea rolled through me.
Without hesitation, I lifted my right leg and kicked him in the crotch with everything I had.
Tyler let out a piercing scream. He doubled over, clutching himself, collapsing to the ground in agony. His face turned purple, sweat pouring down his forehead.
The customers inside turned to look. The blue-collar workers and roughnecks whistled even louder than before, enjoying the show.
"Attaboy, girl!" someone shouted.
"Never let me see you again." I threw the words at him coldly.
I turned and walked back into the coffee shop, leaving Tyler wailing on the pavement behind me.
That kick would make sure Tyler—vain as he was—stayed away for good. After that scene, nobody would think we had any chance of getting back together.
I got home late that day. After leaving the coffee shop, I'd gone to the hospital two blocks over for a prenatal checkup. The baby was healthy—the only good news I'd gotten lately.
But I was a mess. Morning sickness tormented me day and night. Even Leo, usually oblivious, noticed something was wrong and told me to take a few days off.
But how could I? I needed this job. I needed the money.
Someone nearby was cooking stew. The greasy smell hit my nose, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. I leaned against a wall and vomited violently in the corner.
"You really are pregnant, huh?"
A familiar male voice came from nearby.
I jerked my head up, wiping my mouth.
Tyler leaned against my apartment door, holding a familiar box—my pregnancy test packaging.
"You broke into my place?"
"Of course." He waved the box, a disgusting smile on his face. "You think I can't get through this shitty lock? When I found this, I didn't want to believe it. But then you went to obstetrics."
He took a few steps closer, backing me up.
"A girl who played virgin with me and accused me of cheating secretly knocked up by someone else." His voice dripped with mockery. "Hazel, you're something else."
"None of your business. Get lost." I yelled at him, hands instinctively protecting my stomach.
Tyler's smile vanished. His eyes went dark. "I'm giving you one last chance. Just help me see Anya one more time, and I'll leave you alone."
"What?" I asked through gritted teeth.
"Because I have a plan." Greed flashed in his eyes. "A plan that benefits both of us. Just get Anya to meet you. You don't need to do anything else."
Whatever his plan was, it couldn't be good for Anya.
"Never," I said without hesitation. "Not a chance."
Tyler sneered. The next second, that handsome face twisted into something vicious. He grabbed my arm and dragged me inside the apartment.
"You bastard. This is my home." I stormed in after him, pointing at the door. "Get out. I'm calling the police."
Tyler stood up, completely unfazed by my threat. He slammed the door shut and locked the deadbolt from inside.
The cramped room held just the two of us.
"I came here to offer you a lifeline." Tyler stood in front of me, eyes gleaming with greed. "Let's get back together, Hazel. If you agree to be my girlfriend again, I'll claim the kid as mine."
I stared at him in disbelief.
"What the hell is wrong with you? After everything that's happened, you think I'd ever have feelings for you again?"
"You think I want to raise whatever bastard you're carrying?" He jabbed his finger into my shoulder. "For your own safety, you better choose to get back together with me."
I froze, not understanding what my safety had to do with this.
"Contact Anya right now. Tell her you're pregnant. Tell her it's mine. Tell her we're desperate, can't even afford food. She's loaded—she could spare us pocket change. Use that thing in your belly and go beg that rich princess. She'll forgive you, even though you slept with her father."
Tyler's shamelessness broke through every human boundary. He was ordering me to exploit my unborn child to milk Anya for money, feeding his greedy delusion of climbing the social ladder.
"Dream on! I'll never let you near her again!"
I grabbed a heavy glass from the table and hurled it at Tyler's head with all my strength.
Tyler dodged. The glass smashed against the wall behind him, shattering into razor-sharp pieces.
I went wild, grabbing everything within reach and throwing it at him.
A book I threw hit his shoulder. He staggered back, wincing.
My resistance enraged him completely. The fake kindness vanished, replaced by savage fury.
"You ungrateful bitch."
Tyler lunged forward. Using his physical advantage, he seized both my wrists. He shoved hard, slamming me onto the hard spring mattress.
My back hit the bed frame. My stomach immediately started aching.
Tyler straddled my thighs, pinning his full weight on top of me, trapping me beneath him.
His hands clamped my shoulders, making it impossible to move.
"You dare fight back?" Tyler's breathing turned heavy, spit spraying my face. "You always acted so pure with me. I didn't touch you, so you went out slutting around. It's your fault I had to fuck Lacey. All your fault."
He was blaming his cheating on me.
"Let me go! Help! Somebody help!" I thrashed, screaming.
"Scream all you want. You think anyone in this dump will save a slut with a reputation like yours?
" Tyler lowered his voice, turning lewd and vile.
"If you don't get back with me, what do you think Viktor will do to some random girl pregnant with his kid?
With all his enemies, you think you'll actually get to deliver this baby? "
Tyler reached into his black bag with one hand and pulled out a thick nylon rope.
Terror froze my blood.
"No. Tyler. Please. Let me go." I sobbed, kicking frantically at his back.
Tyler ignored my begging. He cruelly yanked my hands together and tied my wrists tight with the nylon rope, then bound the other end to the iron bedframe.
The rough rope cut into my wrists. I'd lost all ability to fight back.
Tyler stared at me with eyes full of lust and violence. He grabbed the collar of my T-shirt.
He ripped it apart.
The fabric tore with a sickening sound. My shirt split open. Cold air hit my exposed skin.
I screamed in terror, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for hell to descend.
Someone save me. Anyone. God—
A deafening bang exploded in the cramped room.
My flimsy door—lock and all—disintegrated under the bullet. Wood splinters flew through the air.
Then the shattered door got kicked in from outside. The whole thing crashed to the floor, raising a cloud of dust.
A suffocating, terrifying pressure flooded the room.
The gunshot made Tyler flinch. He even stopped tearing my clothes, whipping his head toward the doorway in terror.
Through my tears, I forced my eyes open.
Dim hallway light spilled through the doorway, outlining a tall figure—black as death itself.
The man wore an impeccable black custom suit. In one hand, he held a smoking gun. Those ice-blue eyes—devoid of all warmth—looked past Tyler's shoulder, coldly fixed on me tied to the bed.
The absolute ruler of Los Angeles's underworld.
Viktor Gromov.
Standing at my door like a god descending from heaven.