Prologue
I wrapped my arms around myself to shelter my body from the sea breeze. The night air was cool yet humid, the lingering smell of rain mixed with salt. A sudden flash of lightning brightened the dark sky, a beautiful sight followed by the inevitable. I placed my hands over my ears, burying my head between my legs. The crash of thunder startled me. Slowly, I raised my head and uncovered my ears, then listened to the low rumble disappear into the night. I hated storms, they terrified me, but here I sat, waiting patiently as I always did. This was our special place, but tonight—with the moon obscured behind the dark thick clouds—this no longer felt like our safe haven. Anxiously, I pulled out a weed that stood between the rocks and tore it apart until there was nothing left. The lightning struck once again and the threat of thunder forced me to bury my head. I rocked back and forth as I hugged my knees. Unwillingly, my mind returned to the night my fear of storms began…
“He is the most beautiful man you will ever see. His soul will capture you, but don’t be fooled, Mi Corazon. He will use all his powers to draw you in when there is nothing left to do but take the one thing you’ve been holding on to.”
It was past my bedtime but I couldn’t sleep. A storm was rolling in and the thunder was getting louder. I pulled the covers over me, frightened by this creature Momma spoke about. With my heart racing and my voice shaking, I dared ask the question that haunted me.
“Who is he, Momma?”
Placing the book down, she paused, staring out of the large window. Fear passed over her classically beautiful face as she continued. I wasn’t sure why. Daddy would protect her. Daddy had a gun and said if anyone would ever hurt us, he would hunt them down like hungry wolves.
“The Dark Angel,” she whispered.
The name alone frightened me. Was he like the big bad wolf? I didn’t understand what I would be holding on to. I was only eight. This fairytale was nothing like the others. Where was the happy ending? Did the Dark Angel turn into a prince like in Snow White or Cinderella?
“Will he come for me, Momma?”
The thunder shook the house and I clutched her arm as tight as I could. I was scared, the thunder was so loud and I didn’t want the Dark Angel to come for me. He scared me. I wanted to stay with Daddy and Momma. As the noise became louder, I buried my head under Momma’s arm, trying to shut out the horrible sound.
“Momma, I’m scared.”
“Sleep, Mi Corazon.”
Humming my favorite lullaby, she stroked my hair to calm me down until I fell asleep in her arms.
I never believed it but for some reason it stuck with me and unfortunately so did my fear of storms. Just poor timing, I kept telling myself. Frustrated, I looked down at my watch. You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought. He’s an hour late.
Just as I was about to get up and leave, I felt his masculine arms wrap around me, warming my body. Placing soft kisses along my neckline, the stale smell of tequila lingered on his breath. My heart sunk; I knew something was wrong but I wasn’t in the mood to be sympathetic. I was sick and tired of all this sneaking around.
“Rough night? Haven’t you heard of a cell?”
“Rough doesn't even cut it. I’m sorry, my cell was acting up.”
Distracted, he moved his hands underneath my jacket and ran them along my stomach.
“You smell like you've been to a frat party,” I said. Unable to hide my annoyance any longer, I moved his hands away but he stopped me immediately. He tightened his grip around me and buried his head in my hair.
“Your hair... It's so... I miss you...” He mumbled words that made no sense and I grew even more irritated. I pulled away and stood up.
“What is this? I know you—better than you know yourself. You’re drunk for a reason.” Without hesitation I blurted out the words that plagued my mind. “You’re going to tell me it’s over? The signs are here, you’ve been acting weird all week.”
He stood up fast, unsteady on his feet. I half expected him to laugh it off but even in his intoxicated state he seemed to understand what I meant. The hesitation alone was enough for me to think the worst but I stood and waited without taking a breath. His eyes fixated on me, a trance I tried not to get pulled into, but slowly I felt myself drawn in, cast under his spell without any hope of climbing out.
“Over? I can’t breathe without you, Charlotte. How do you expect me to live without you?”
> I understood how he felt because I felt it too. Gently, he ran his finger down my cheekbone just as he had always done, then slowly and reassuringly he placed his lips on mine.
“Look at me, Charlotte,” he begged.
My eyes found their way back to his, and just like they had done a million times before, the emerald green shone back at me. In their reflection I saw only us.
He placed my hand over his heart. “As long as this beats, it’s for you. I’ll find a way for us to be together. Don’t give up on us; we happened for a reason. The rest are obstacles we can overcome. As long as you place your trust in me, I promise to never break you. I love you…only you.”
I gave into him that night because I loved him more than life itself, but it was soon afterwards I realized what Momma tried to tell me all along. That he would come for me, take all that was mine, then leave me alone in the dark. He would empty me of everything good and pure, leaving me hollow and unable to love, wandering alone in the darkness like a tortured soul. I prayed that he wouldn’t come for me, but he did. His name was Alexander Edwards, and that night he filled me with promises, made me believe it was only us in this world, that we only needed each other.
That was the last time I saw him.
Chapter 1
Charlie
The oddest thing about me was that I loved Monday mornings; I didn’t suffer from the so-called ‘Mondayitis’ like everyone else I knew. There was something about a new week, a fresh start, that excited me. The possibilities were endless. Unfortunately not everyone shared my enthusiasm. As I sat here in the boardroom, I looked at my surroundings as I waited for our weekly meeting to start. All heads were down, fingers busily typing away on their smartphones. In a room full of people there was nothing but the sounds of tapping and the constant ping or chirp followed by more tapping. If I could I would never leave this place. Some called me a workaholic. I preferred the word “passionate.” I loved everything about my job, and I loved all my co-workers who also happened to be my close friends. I closed my book and focused my attention on my new shoes. Okay, so I had a problem, I had no doubt in my mind I was a shoe addict. These new Louboutins were fresh off the fall line and I was a woman possessed by my need for shiny new patent leather and a heel that could poke your worst enemy’s eye out. As I crossed my legs admiring my new guilty pleasure, I caught sight of Eric taking a photo with his phone.
“Absolutely gorgeous, Charlie. Let’s hashtag this.” Fingers busily typing away, Eric smiled. Moments later he flashed me the photo.
“How nice of you, Eric. Did that interrupt your busy Candy Crush schedule? You have a problem, you know that right? I’d like to see you live one day—actually, no, make that half a day without your cell.”
“I did, remember?”