Page 233 of Before Dawn

I woke up with a jolt, heart racing and body drenched in sweat, trying to shake off the nightmare.

“Mikkel?” My voice trembled as I turned to wake him. He stirred, blinking sleepily as he reached for his glasses on the bedside table.

“Baby?” he asked, concern knitting his brow. “Are you okay?”

“I… had a nightmare,” I managed, my breath still coming in ragged gasps.

He sat up, brushing my damp forehead. “What happened? Talk to me,amor.”

“I… d-dreamt about my past,” I whispered, trying to stop the shaking.

He nodded, worry in his eyes. “Stay here.” He slipped out of bed and returned with water. I drank, the coolness easing mythroat.

Mikkel wrapped his arms around me. “I promise, no one will ever hurt you again,” he murmured, kissing my forehead.

His warmth settled me, and soon, we drifted back to sleep.

By morning, he was gone, but his embrace lingered. In the kitchen, I found breakfast, a note filled with love, and bouquet of yellow and white roses. A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips as I read his words—touched by his care yet weighed down by the guilt of what I hadn’t told him.

I had an early meeting. Hope you’re feeling better. Te amo, mi vida.

—Mikkel.

Frozen in the café doorway, the heaviness of past pain pressed down on me. Joshua sat at a corner table, his smile a mask for the turmoil in his eyes, a haunting reminder of the past.

I hadn’t come here out of desire but out of necessity. I needed this to end. I needed him to understand that whatever he was clinging to was just a ghost of something long gone. This wasn’t about closure—at least not for me. I had rediscovered who I was and learned to love myself again, all while the best man I had ever met held my hand. This was about finally putting an end to the shadows he kept casting over my life.

I took a breath, straightening my spine, and walked toward him, each step a silent declaration of everything I had reclaimed since him.

“Hey, love, missed you,” he greeted, his voice sweet but fake, a blade twisting in my gut.

“Get to the fucking point. Why am I here?”

His eyes flickered for a second, a flash of annoyance before he masked it. “You wound me, love,” he replied, but the charade didn’t fool me.

“Why did you want to see me?” My voice trembled with something deeper—rage, sure, but also something harder, something I didn’t recognize in myself until now.

“I just wanted to see you one last time,” he said, leaning in, eyes intense, searching. “Before I leave for Europe, I had to see my favorite girl—the one who gives the best head—one last time.”

The words hit me like a slap, but I held my ground, gripping my bag so tight I thought it would snap. “I’m leaving,” I said, standing up, my legs shaking, but my voice strong. “You’re fucking disgusting.”

“Don’t go so fast,” he muttered, his voice softening just enough to make my skin crawl. He raised his phone, the screen gleaming like a knife. “Sit down. Let’s talk, Abigail.”

I didn’t move. The blood drained from my face as he hit play. The video began—my stomach lurched, nausea rising.

“W-why do you still have the tape?” I stammered, a tear slipping, but I wiped it away before he saw.

His finger hovered over the screen before he tapped it again, slow and deliberate—like this was all just a game to him. His voice dripped with manipulation as he said, “Why would I get rid of something so valuable?”

A chill ran through me.

“This will always be here,” he continued, his smirk sharp and cruel. “You’ll always remember who you really are. Not some polished princess with a perfect billionaire on her arm.The whorecapable of everything and more in that tape.”

I could feel the tremor in my chest, but my voice was firm. “I hate you,” I spat, the words tasting like acid.

“You loved me once,” he said, smug.

“IthoughtI did,” I corrected, meeting his eyes without flinching. “You’re pathetic.”

---