Deangelo's POV Hours. It had been hours of brutal fighting, a goddamn meat crusher. My team was doing everything in their power to hold back my stepmother’s army, but it was like fighting a fucking hydra, every head we chopped off, two more grew in its place. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were playing a losing game. How the hell did that old bitch get her hands on so many goddamn troops? Only the President could assemble this kind of force, and Ximena was just some gold digger playing queen substitute. My heart took off like a kite in a windstorm. I stood side by side with Silvia in the dark hallway, our assault rifles raised, cold sweat stinging my eyes. Countless dead bodies messed up the floor, a gruesome sight of disfigured bodies and spilled blood. We were running out of bullets, running out of time, and running out of options. Leaving the massive building was damn near impossible, but staying here meant we wanted to get captured, or worse. I had to get to my princ
Deangelo's POV"Hmph…" I tried to speak, to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat like shards of glass.I managed to stand, though my chest felt like it was being crushed by a goddamn millstone. Silvia and Hugo tiptoed closer to the box, and the look on their faces when they peeped inside was like they had seen a ghost.Silvia turned to me, her voice crackling ever so slightly. "It's... It's her fingernails, boss. T-The beauty, it’s her fucking nails. I remember she had red nails the last time I saw her."Her words hit me like a goddamn punch to the stomach. "I’m sorry, boss, I can only imagine how you feel right now,"A ringing started in my ears, even as my heart was slamming against my ribcage with alarming force. I shoved past them, grabbing the box, and my gaze landed on the two goddamn fingernails inside.They were red, elegant, chipped polish clinging to the bottom; they were ripped, torn, with speckles of blood and flesh still clinging to them, someone had
Deangelo's POV The security guards, clearly eager to be rid of the mysterious packages, nodded and hurried to obey, placing the boxes softly onto the nearest desk. A few laptops and notebooks went flying, crashing to the ground with a loud thud. "Now what are you waiting for? Get the hell out of here and don't show your faces again!" I added with all my anger. The security left as fast as their feet could carry them without dropping the gun they had on their hips. They ran out of the room, as if they were being chased, leaving me alone with the boxes. I stood frozen in that position, my hand resting on the edge of the desk, feeling the strange pressure making my head spin. My head filled with the creepiest possible pictures, and I tried to shake them out of my head. I just hoped that it wasn’t human heads that were inside the boxes; that would be too cliché. I just had to resist it and think of something useful. What if this was a test? As if answering my thoughts, the light
Rosita's POV My head felt like a goddamn jackhammer was going to town inside. My eyes were glued shut, but I forced them open anyway. An unfamiliar room came into focus, all plain light brown and germ-free. Not a single damn thing looked familiar. All of a sudden, my eyes traveled to the tube, a transparent plastic tube snaking its way into my right wrist. Panic climbed up my throat. I didn't remember shit, just a pair of hands dragging me, then... pitch-black. I didn't give a flying fuck what was in that tube, I yanked it out. The needle tore a hole, and bright red blood blossomed around the wound, staining the bedsheets. I clenched my teeth against the pain, a familiar sting in a world gone sideways. I threw off the covers, ready to run out of here, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. They were weighty and useless, like lead pipes. "Fuck! Mija! Mija! Dolores!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. The poison... had it come back? Was this how it ended? Paralyzed, in some shithole
Deangelo's POV My hands were locked around Vincenzo's throat, his face turning an ugly shade of purple, when I felt a sharp pain pierce into my arms. Silvia and Romano, their faces contorted in anger and horror, were pulling me away from the foul-mouthed bastard, their combined strength completely overpowering my fury. I stumbled back, gasping for breath, the adrenaline slowly disappearing, leaving behind a troubling feeling of shame and self-loathing. I still wasn't able to control my shit, and all that people saw it, it made the situation more damn embarrassing than what I was already going to. Silvia was saying something, her voice inaudible, her face tight with worry, but I couldn't focus. It was like everyone was shouting and no one was at the same time. The air around us seemed as thick as the ocean. Hard to breathe, and no one was saying anything again. The only sound we could hear was Vincenzo choking on the bed and the rattling of the chains connected to his wrists,
Rosita's POV The ropes rubbed against my wrists, biting into my skin with each wild yank. God, I hated Don Fernando, this was all his fault. Dolores and I struggled, our bodies moved in a difficult dance of fear. We needed to escape as soon as possible. Finally, a strand gave way in Dolores’s wrists, and adrenaline pumped through my veins as her fingers brushed against mine, then darted to her legs, working quickly to untie the rope on her feet. She was behind me now, her breath hot against my neck as she struggled with the tight knots binding my hands. "Hurry up," I mumbled. "We need to get out of here before that hungry beast comes back." Sounds gushed in from the hallway, battering the both of us. We froze in that position, feeling shock and fear as we sighted the don. "That's not a very nice way to address someone who's offering you hospitality," the Don commented, his voice soft and dangerously entertained. "I'm not a monster. I just want to help you, but in exchange f