Page 34 of Angels Are Falling

The house was technically perfect, every inch precise and tidy—too tidy. It was empty and cold, as if no one truly lived here. The decor was sterile, lacking personal touches. Neutral walls and marble floors stretched the space, making the house seem even grander. You could get lost here, and no one would find you.

I left my purse and shoes behind and climbed the stairs, looking for the kids’ rooms. It took me almost ten minutes to find them. The three bedrooms were stacked side by side with their names painted on the doors. I tiptoed in. The kids were fast asleep.

I decided to find our bedroom instead, only to wish I hadn’t. More neutral colors, more sterile furniture. There was no way I could sleep here tonight.

I made my way down the corridor. The hallway was just as barren, stark white and unnervingly silent, reminiscent of a haunted film. In our old home, the small space made it impossible to feel lonely. Whereas this big, empty house with a minimalist design amplified my isolation.

Why was it so quiet?

“Hello,” I called out into the empty hallway. I thought Stefan had hired staff. Where was everyone?

I had two husbands and three kids. My house should be filled with the sound of children playing and someone asking me for this or that.

Suddenly, a creak made me jump. My breath quickened, panic rising. “Is someone there?”

No answer. From my teenage years, I remembered how big houses always made creepy noises. That was why I hated them.

The desolation overwhelmed me, and my heart raced. I would die if I couldn’t speak to someone. My throat was parched, my tongue thick, and I was breathing hard. I had no idea what to do.

I had lost my family in this big house and didn’t know how to get them back. The vastness suffocated me in loneliness. I had to find someone—anyone—for help.

“Mrs. Bea?” My voice trembled as I called for the nanny. She was probably asleep, too. Plus, I had no idea which room was hers.

When I saw a bathroom, I ran inside to splash water on my face. The room was sprayed with vanilla perfume, which went straight to my head. I stared at the mirror over the sink. My face was flushed, and my hands were shaking as they clutched at my chest. A sheen of sweat covered my forehead, and the sickly, sweet scent made it difficult to breathe.

I needed Stefan.

I patted my skirt pocket for my phone but realized I’d left it somewhere. Searching a mansion in my current state was impossible. Stefan wouldn’t answer anyway. He was out drinking, not thinking of me.

My fight-or-flight response kicked in, and I took off. Heavy breathing filled my eardrums, audible over my racing heart. Soft cries escaped me as I struggled to breathe while descending the stairs. My skin went clammy, and my legs shook. I managed to reach the double doors separating Stefan’s wing, nearly throwing myself into Kai’s side of the house.

Despite my shallow breathing and blurry vision, I was stupefied by what I saw. Kai’s wing had the same large windows, but otherwise, the interiors couldn’t be more different.

There was a small living room full of warm colors—teal walls, a deep burgundy chesterfield sofa set, rustic side tables. Textured pillows were scattered on the couch and armchairs, inviting you to sink in, while black-and-gold knitted throw blankets added to the cozy atmosphere. The mismatched colors somehow harmonized, but the slam dunk was the fireplace. It crackled with a warm orange glow and engulfed me in an invisible hug. Just staring at the vibrant colors slowed my racing heart.

There were a few pictures on the side tables, including one from our wedding day. I recalled the photographer snapping away at our ceremony. Kai also took a bunch of selfies. I was surprised he had them printed and framed so quickly. His assistant must have done it while we were away. There were also pictures of us with the kids from the twins’ birthday dinner at The Gilded Lamp.

When had he done all this, and why did his side look like my perfect home, while Stefan’s was a cold monstrosity?

Kai was at the breakfast nook in the far corner, perched on a stool. His laptop sat on the counter while he conducted business on his phone. He mentioned he’d be working from home for the foreseeable future. There was some massive deal he had been trying to close, and it kept him tethered to his screens.

Kai angled his head upon sensing my presence and lowered the phone glued to his ear. “You okay?”

I couldn’t speak or admit I had sought him out during a full-blown panic attack.

My brimming eyes had him jumping off the stool and picking me up. Here I thought he’d dismiss me and return to his call.

Before I could fully grasp what was happening, he carried me to the living room and sat on the couch with me on his lap. He didn’t ask why I was freaking out. For a moment, I forgot how the asshole had tricked me into sex during our honeymoon and nestled against his chest. There was warmth in his arms and the inviting room. It calmed me, and my breathing evened out.

I kept expecting him to probe me for answers, but as always, Kai was calm and collected. When he wasn’t being a sex fanatic, Kai reminded me of a rock-solid man carved from patience and control. A bomb could drop on us, and he’d remain unaffected. Nothing shook this man, which was exactly what I needed.

“Has this happened before?” he asked quietly.

I nodded. “When I was a teenager.” From the moment I was old enough to be left alone, I had slept and woken up to an empty home. Sometimes, I shouted at the top of my lungs to see if anyone could hear me, and I had recurring nightmares of dying alone. It was terrifying.

Then, I met Stefan. His parents felt terrible that Baba was always traveling for work, and they welcomed me into their home with open arms. Family dinners, game nights, Sunday brunches. My life was never quiet again… until today.

Stefan got the lifestyle he’d always wanted. Kai got the family he wanted. What the hell did I get?