Chapter 9
“Hold still,” I said, dabbing gently at Bryant’s temple with a damp cloth.
Bryant winced, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “You‘ re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
I gave him a pointed look. “Enjoying seeing you bruised and battered? Hardly. But maybe this will teach you not to pick fights.”
The television in the corner of the room flashed brightly, drawing my attention. A breaking news alert scrolled across the bottom of the screen. The reporter’s voice was crisp, almost dramatic.
“Earlier today, a heated altercation between Rocco and Bryant Jones turned violent. Witnesses report that the fight, said to be over their love for Amanda Smith, escalated quickly-”
“Love for me?” I muttered, glancing at
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Bryant, who looked utterly unapologetic.
“I shouldn’t have done it,” he said, breaking the silence. “But Gabriel–he said things about you, Amanda. Awful. things. I couldn’t just stand there and take it.”
I sighed, sitting back on the bed. “Still, Bryant, it doesn’t matter. He lost. And you…” I gave him a soft smile. “You‘ re marrying me, so these fights are useless! He was just provoking you.”
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His expression softened, his hand reaching for mine. He pressed a kiss to the back of my hand, his lips warm and tender. “And I will never waste that opportunity. I‘ 11 cherish you forever.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The room was quiet, save for the hum of the television and the faint patter of rain against the window.
Then his hand slipped to my cheek, his fingers brushing against my skin. Slowly,
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Chapter 9
you,” Bryant grumbled on the other end. “I want to see the gown too, you know.”
“And spoil the moment when I walk down the aisle?” I teased, adjusting the hem of the dress. “Not a chance.”
Bryant groaned dramatically. “Fine. But you owe me a sneak peek at least.”
“No way,” I laughed. “You‘ 11 just have to wait like everyone else.”
Before he could respond, a sudden shout rang out from outside the fitting room.
I froze, my heart leaping into my throat. “Hang on, Bryant,” I said, holding the phone tightly.
A deafening explosion shook the building, the walls trembling as the lights flickered. The floor beneath me felt unstable, and the sound of shattering glass sent chills down my spine.
“Amanda? What’s happening?” Bryant’s voice was sharp, panicked.
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“I don’t know,” I said, my voice trembling. I ran to the door and tried the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. “The door‘ s locked. Bryant, I think there’s a fire.”
“What? Get out of there!”
“I’m trying!” I shouted, banging on the door. Smoke began to seep through the cracks, curling into the room like dark, ghostly fingers.
Coughing, I grabbed my phone again, pressing it to my ear. “Bryant, there’s smoke everywhere–I can’t breathe-”
“Stay calm,” he said, his voice frantic. “I’m coming, Amanda. Just hold on!”
I dropped the phone as the smoke thickened, the acrid smell burning my throat. My hands scrambled for the fabric of my dress, trying to cover my mouth, but it wasn’t enough.
“Help!” I called weakly, pounding on the door one last time.
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My knees buckled, the room spinning around me as the smoke filled my lungs.
The last thing I heard was Bryant’s voice yelling my name through the phone before. everything went black.
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