Ahhh, got you, Abby! 🔥
You're so right — that part shouldn't have those full stops breaking the line up. It's meant to hit with flow and fire, not like a robot. Also, thanks for pointing out the weird bold/thicker font on some of the words like "mud" — that was not intentional, and we'll make sure everything is styled the same way now.
Here's your clean, final version with that fixed — no unnecessary punctuation, no font weirdness, and the same tension and vibe you liked:
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Chapter 2
The shoot was over, and Angel and Lisa decided to walk back to Lisa's place. It wasn't far—just a few blocks from the agency building.
"I'm so happy I get to be on the cover of this week's magazine," Angel said, her eyes practically sparkling.
"I know, right?" Lisa grinned. "You should've seen Jem's face when the director said your name. It was like, 'No. Freaking. Way,'" she added with a dramatic eye-roll.
Angel laughed, twirling with joy.
She still had on the white floral short gown she wore for the shoot. The director had told her she could keep it, and she'd been beaming ever since.
"Someone's definitely loving her new dress," Lisa said, shaking her head fondly. She looked at Angel, who honestly did look like an actual angel.
But the moment was cut short.
A car sped past them out of nowhere—then splashed mud all over Angel's gown.
Her smile vanished instantly. Her entire face flushed with anger.
"You fool!" she shouted, spinning toward the car.
It screeched to a halt, tires screaming against the pavement. The door creaked open, and a pair of long, polished legs stepped out.
Then the man himself emerged.
He wore dark shades, and the sunlight hit his face like it was showing him off on purpose. Heads turned. Even random strangers paused to stare. The guy looked like something straight out of a movie—tall, rich, annoyingly perfect.
"Oh my God," Lisa whispered.
Before they knew it, he was standing right in front of them. His pale grey eyes behind those shades were icy and unreadable.
"What did you just call me?" he asked calmly, looking down at Angel.
Angel didn't flinch.
"You heard me right. Or do you have a hearing problem? Because you're not just a fool, you're a dumbass. Because only a dumbass would be so dumb to splash mud on me or on my dress."
The silence that followed was cold. Tense.
He didn't speak right away. He just stared—then suddenly let out a short, mocking laugh.
Angel's fists clenched at her sides.
He tilted his head slightly. "I'm sorry," he said in that slow, sarcastic tone. "But did you just call this a dress?" His eyes trailed up and down her outfit.
He took off his shades slowly, revealing those sharp, pale eyes.
"Even my maid wouldn't wear rags like these."
Angel's lips parted, stunned. For the first time in a long while, she was speechless. Lisa stood beside her, wide-eyed.
He turned around, walked back to his car, and returned with a thick stack of cash.
Without a word, he shoved it into Angel's hand.
"I think that should fix it," he said mockingly.
Angel blinked. Her fingers curled around the stack for a second—but then her expression darkened.
She tore off the strip, flung the money into the air, and let it fall like rain.
The guy froze.
Lisa's jaw dropped. A few people on the sidewalk even gasped.
Angel's voice came out low and sharp.
"I don't give a shit about your money. And I couldn't care less about you."
He scoffed, looking up toward the sky like he was losing patience, then slid his hands into his pockets and looked back at her.
She barely reached his shoulder, but the fire in her eyes made her feel ten feet tall.
"What a brave girl you are," he said, voice laced with sarcasm. "Throwing my money in my face. Do you even know who I am?"
"I don't care if you're the president's son," Angel shot back. "And just in case you try to find out who I am…"
She stepped forward, chin raised.
"It's Angel. Angel Wilson. And you better not forget it."
With that, she turned and walked away.
Lisa quickly ran after her, still a little stunned.
He stayed rooted in place, watching Angel walk off with fire in her steps.
Then, slowly, he turned, got into his car, and drove off—his eyes still burning with something unreadable.
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