Present Time

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Hale couldn't stop swearing even as he switched his laptop on and keyed in his password to gain access to the company's security network. A few more clicks, and he was now able to replay his encounter with her earlier.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He watched himself walk out on her. An act that should've given him pleasure but all it did now was make him want to run after her.

And beg for her fucking forgiveness.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It had been four fucking years, dammit.

Four! Damn! Years!

His insanely unhealthy obsession with Heaven Gaines should have died a long time ago. But instead it had steadily grown worse. Until it had taken shape and form, a monster that lived inside of him and raged endlessly to be fed.

But no way would he let that fucking happen.

Not when what the monster hungered for was her.

And that was why he was reduced into this.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Shame was no match for the need that burned through his body. He hated himself for being sick like this, but he couldn't help it.

His gaze stayed on her face as he gripped himself.

Pleasured himself.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

But even when he was fully spent, it still wasn't enough.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about her?

Why couldn't he stop hurting her?

Why, dammit? Why?

Hale stalked into his office's en-suite, a spacious marbled enclave that also came equipped with its own shower. He turned the knob completely to one side, but the blazing-hot water wasn't enough to wash away his wrath and bitterness.

Four fucking years.

It was long enough even for Hale to admit that there was a possibility he had gotten certain things wrong about Heaven. He had even hired a private detective to look into her past, but the latter's conclusions had been no fucking help.

I'm sorry, Mr. Hale. But there simply isn't enough evidence to prove or disprove her involvement in Henry Nash's crime. Maybe she knew. Maybe she didn't.

The only way for him to know the truth, in other words, was to ask her.

But as to whether he had the capacity to determine if she was lying to him or not...

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He used to take pride in his ability to see through people's guises. He used to be really fucking good at knowing who was faking things. Heaven, however, proved to be the sole exception, but why that was, he had yet to figure out.

Was Heaven a she-devil designed specifically to torment him?

Or was she his one and only chance to break away from the past and start anew?