Chapter 32 : Take a guess

Michael stood frozen at the doorway, his breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a growl. His mind refused to piece the scene together, to acknowledge the sheer disgust clawing its way up his throat. 

His wife—his Angela—was sprawled out in front of him, her body used, ruined, broken. And the man standing over her? Lumian.

Michael's fingers twitched, small arcs of electricity crackling between them. The lights in the apartment flickered, as if sensing his rage.

Lumian, still inside Angela, glanced over his shoulder at Michael, completely unbothered. A slow, lazy smirk stretched across his face. "Took you long enough," he said, his tone almost mocking. "But you're still right on time."

Then, as if to taunt him further, Lumian reached over and tipped an imaginary hat. "By the way, nice hat," he mused. "It suits you."

Michael didn't respond. He couldn't. His mind was a storm, his emotions a maelstrom of rage, betrayal, and something even darker.