Love and Devotion No Longer His to Claim (Angela and Dexter) novel Chapter 50

Chapter 50 

Angela’s breath hitched. 

It was Dexter. Why was he here? 

Dexter’s sharp gaze scanned the room. He immediately locked onto the hand on Angela’s shoulder. 

Without a word, he strode over and pulled her aside. Then, he rolled up his sleeves and delivered a powerful punch straight to Dave’s fat face. 

Dave hadn’t seen it coming. The force of the blow nearly snapped his neck. 

A bruised purple imprint quickly appeared on Dave’s face. It was a horrifying sight. 

Dexter’s eyes were menacing, filled with murderous intent. He looked as if he were about to devour Dave. 

As he delivered punch after punch, each one seemingly with lethal force, it didn’t take long before Dave’s face was left unrecognizable. 

“Mr. Bamford… Mr. Bamford, please stop!” one of Dave’s lackeys pleaded, but he was kicked across the room in the next instant. 

Still not satisfied, Dexter grabbed a bottle from the coffee table and smashed it down on the hand that had touched Angela. 

With a loud crash, the bottle shattered. 

A scream echoed through the air, and the faint smell of blood quickly filled the room. 

Angela’s head spun. She could barely comprehend the scene unfolding before her. 

Just as she was wondering if she was dreaming, she heard Dexter’s voice. “How dare your touch her? You’re courting death.” 

Gazing at Dexter’s angry, bloodshot eyes, Angela struggled to regain some clarity. She reached out and tugged at his sleeve. “Dexter, stop.” 

If this continued, Dave might die. 

“Get lost!” Dexter yanked his arm away from her. 

The force sent Angela stumbling toward the couch. But he was quick. He caught her just in time. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Dexter finally noticed her flushed face. 

Through the thin fabric of her clothes, he could feel her body burning with heat. 

Angela felt a strange sense of guilt and kept her head down. 

“Aidan, take care of these idiots.” With that, Dexter lifted Angela with one hand and headed for the door. 

Aidan Hewitt, his new bodyguard and assistant, was known for being quiet but extremely skilled in a fight. 

Angela clutched Dexter’s clothes. “And my colleague, Clara. Can you have someone send her home? Don’t let anything happen to her.” 

Dexter let out a scoff. “You’re barely holding it together, and you’re worried about 

someone else?” His voice was icy, as if wrapped in frost. 

Angela felt dizzy, and her stomach churned as Dexter’s brisk pace made everything worse. “Please, don’t shake me. Let me down.” 

She felt on the verge of vomiting. 

“Shut up!” Dexter snapped. 

But the next moment, Angela couldn’t hold it in anymore and vomited. The warm sensation spread across Dexter’s back. 

He froze, stiff as a board. 

“Angela Graham!” He gritted his teeth. He felt an overwhelming urge to rip her off his shoulder and throw her into the nearby greenbelt. 

“I–I told you not to shake me. I didn’t mean to.” Angela’s voice was muffled, filled with helplessness. 

She thought he might finally leave her alone, but to her surprise, Dexter threw her down and made sure she stood on her own. 

Then he swiftly removed his jacket and tossed it toward a nearby trash can with an effortless motion. 

He was left with only his black shirt. With his cold, detached expression, he appeared even more imposing. 

Angela’s dizziness wasn’t from alcohol. It felt like she had been drugged, and she could barely stand. 

Everything around her blurred, and the man in front of her seemed to multiply, which felt a bit absurd. 

She gave a silly, almost delirious smile. 

However, she didn’t notice his increasingly dark expression or the terrifying glint in his 

meyes. 

“Get in the car!” Dexter grabbed her wrist and shoved her into the vehicle before climbing in himself. 

Erica, who had been sitting in the back seat, couldn’t help but frown at the scene. 

Was she supposed to get out?