THE BILLIONAIRE STILL WANTS HER!
Chapter 39: Yeah, it is...

Chapter 39: Yeah, it is...

"Oh... I really thought he was about to say something else," Angel muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

Tryson’s sharp gaze flickered toward her. "Did you say something?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

Angel stiffened for a fraction of a second.

She knew that no matter what he was about to say—no matter how much she wanted to believe in something more—she risked breaking her own heart.

If she ever found out that the only reason he was doing all this was because of the contract, it would crush her.

So, she swallowed the lump in her throat and gently shook her head. "It’s nothing. You’ve already said everything you needed to say," she murmured, forcing a small, unreadable smile. "I was just curious... about why he said that I had taken you further than you were supposed to be."

Tryson’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Don’t mind him," he said quickly, a little too quickly. "Like I told you before, it’s just a silly thing."

But even as the words left his mouth, they tasted bitter.

Because the truth was—he was lying.

And the worst part?

It hurt.

It hurt to see Angel accept his excuse so easily, to watch her retreat into that guarded space she had built around her heart.

Because Tryson knew... if she really thought he was lying about something important, it wasn’t because she was naive.

It was because deep down, she was afraid of the truth.

And so was he.

Because the truth was... Tryson was greedy.

He wanted things he knew he couldn’t have.

And Angel was at the very top of that list.

If only he had stayed away from the reckless games he played in the past.

Maybe then, he wouldn’t have ended up hurting someone as pure as Angel.

She didn’t belong in his world—the ruthless, twisted world he had built for himself.

She was too innocent, too kind, too untainted by the darkness that followed him like a shadow. And yet, despite it all, he was the one who wanted to protect her.

Her and the child she carried.

Even if it tore him apart to accept that the child belonged to Arthur.

The thought alone was like a knife to his chest.

Tryson wanted—needed—Angel to understand that everything that had happened two months ago hadn’t been his intention.

That the whole contracted relationship had ended the moment he lost her.

Because this time, it wasn’t about contracts.

No games. No pretense.

Just his raw, unfiltered feelings.

"Yeah... it is," Angel muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The sadness in her eyes was unmistakable, and at that moment, Tryson wanted to punch himself for being the reason behind it.

His fists clenched at his sides, but he forced himself to breathe. To focus.

"Angel," he said softly, his voice low, careful. "The doctor advised that you start going for regular checkups... for the baby." He swallowed, watching as she lowered her gaze, her fingers unconsciously resting on her stomach. "What happened might have been normal, but you still need to take care of yourself... and the child."

Angel said nothing.

Instead, she simply stared down at her belly, her expression unreadable.

But Tryson saw it—the way her eyes softened, the way she cradled herself so gently.

Admiration.

Love.

She already loved this child—Arthur’s child.

And Tryson had never felt more helpless in his entire life.

Tryson knew that this was a bittersweet moment for Angel. He could see it—the quiet pain flickering in her eyes as she gazed down at her stomach, her fingers lightly resting over the small swell.

And yet, despite knowing how much this child’s existence hurt her, he couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread through him at the way she looked at her unborn baby.

Maybe it was because, deep down, all he wanted was to ensure that both Angel and her child were safe.

A strange silence settled between them, neither of them knowing what to say. Until, finally, Angel broke it.

"Am I allowed to get discharged now?" she asked softly.

Tryson turned to her, his expression unreadable. Then, after a brief pause, he nodded gently.

Angel exhaled. "Okay then... Can I leave already? I feel a bit suffocated staying here." Her voice was quiet, yet firm, carrying a lingering exhaustion.

Tryson nodded once more and stood up, ready to help her. But before he could move, the door to the room creaked open, drawing both their attention.

"Moore?" Tryson’s brows furrowed as he watched the man step inside, dressed in his hospital scrubs.

Moore’s gaze flickered between them before he spoke, his tone calm yet knowing. "I heard from the doctor earlier about your request for discharge," he said.

Angel nodded, and Tryson instinctively stepped back, allowing Moore to approach her.

"I know there’s a lot on your minds right now," Moore continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But like I told you before, you need to prioritize your health. You’re still at three months, and this is your first trimester. Once you enter your second trimester, things become more critical. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself and your baby."

Angel and Tryson exchanged a glance before nodding in unison.

Moore sighed, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Just... take it easy, alright?"

And at that moment, for the first time in a long while, Tryson realized—no matter how complicated things got, Angel’s well-being would always come first.

Even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

At that moment, Angel couldn’t find the right words.

She turned her head slowly, her gaze locking onto Tryson’s. There was something in his eyes—something unspoken—that made her chest tighten.

For a long, stretched second, neither of them said anything. The air between them felt thick with emotions neither dared to voice.

Then, finally, in a quiet, almost fragile whisper, she said, "I’ll try my best to be better."

*

The silence between them was almost deafening.

Angel sat in the passenger seat, her fingers idly tracing patterns on her lap as Tryson drove.

The hum of the engine filled the space, yet the unspoken words between them carried more weight than anything else.

Then, suddenly, her brows furrowed.

Something felt... off.

She turned her gaze toward the window, noticing the unfamiliar streets flashing past. The route—this wasn’t the way home.

Confused, she shifted her attention to Tryson, her voice laced with suspicion.

"Tryson, this route... aren’t you mistaken?" she asked, her tone cautious.

But Tryson didn’t falter. Without taking his eyes off the road, he shook his head. "No," he said calmly. "I know you’re bored of being cooped up in that house. So I thought... why not take you somewhere else?"

That was when he glanced at her—just for a second—but that second was enough.

Enough for her to see the truth in his eyes.

"Angel," he murmured, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. "When that happened to you... I was scared. I—I couldn’t stop blaming myself. I still do."

He exhaled heavily, his grip tightening on the wheel. "And the truth is, I just want to fix everything. Every single thing."

Angel’s lips parted, but there was no warmth in her expression, no flicker of hope in her voice when she responded.

"You know things will never be the same, Tryson." Her words were cold, final. "You know that."

The car came to an abrupt stop.

Angel gasped as her body jolted forward, her hands instinctively flying to the dashboard. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she whipped her head toward Tryson, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Tryson! What the hell was that?!" she burst out, breathless and startled.

But before she could say anything else—before she could even process what was happening—Tryson reached for her.

His lips crashed onto hers.

Angel’s world tilted.

Her eyes widened, her breath caught in her throat as the warmth of his mouth consumed her. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was fierce, raw, aching.

A kiss that spoke of everything left unsaid, of regret, of longing, of a silent plea for something neither of them could name.

She was frozen at first, trapped in the whirlwind of emotions that came with the taste of him. But Tryson didn’t waver.

His hands held her firmly, as if afraid she’d disappear the moment he let go. His lips moved against hers, demanding, pleading—needing.

And for a single, breathless second...

Angel let herself drown in him.

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