Castle.Why the hell did I bring Angel to my house? Seriously. What was I thinking?Now he had gotten a front-row seat to the one thing I never wanted him to see. He had seen my house and he was smart. He was going to start asking a lot of questions, and I was not sure I have the answers that would make him stay.Thing was that I was just too tired to think clearly when I was driving him away from the bar in the wee hours of the morning. I didn’t have the energy to argue with myself or call some fancy hotel. I just drove us here. I figured I would deal with it later.Yeah, big mistake.I remembered what he told me when I was upstairs, “Your place looks like it belongs to one of those old mafia families.”He was obviously joking about it, but he wasn’t wrong. In fact, he was so close to the truth that one wrong move would implicate me. The kitchen was quiet when I walked in. It was two floors down from my wing, way in the back of the house. There was a soft clatter coming from the
Angel.I woke up to silence and that was the first sign that something was wrong. Normally there should be traffic in New York by this time of the morning, but here it was so silent.The first thing I registered was that I wasn’t home, obviously. The second thing was that my mouth tasted like a paper bag and stale liquor.I squinted against the unfamiliar softness beneath me. My bed back at home wasn't hard actually, but it wasn't this soft. This mattress felt like clouds, the sheets were cool and smelled faintly of cedarwood and something sweet. The pillows were darker than anything I owned, a deep slate gray, and the duvet hung heavy across my legs, too expensive to kick off casually.This was not my apartment. This wasn’t anyone’s apartment, for that matter. This was something else.I sat up slowly and winced, every movement scraping against my skull like sandpaper. Finally resting against the headboard, I looked around the room. It was enormous. The walls were charcoal grey wit
Castle. The night was nearly over, and the early morning was creeping up. It was three forty-five, and the last bar was already emptying. Across the street, the last patrons of the bar stumbled out. One of them tripped on the curb and laughed. The bouncer leaned in the doorway, bored with his arms crossed over his chest.I kept my gaze fixed across the street, waiting for a certain FBI agent to exit. I had him followed after he left work, not wanting to dismiss Flair's threats.Four o’clock struck, and my stomach twisted when the bouncer who had been lounging outside went in. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was already crossing the street. “Wait,” I called out.He stopped and glanced at me, “Sorry, we’re closed. Go drink at home.”“Dan, come here,” someone inside shouted.My gaze went back to the bouncer, “I’m not here to drink. I'm here to pick up my…”Before I could conclude, the person inside called the bouncer again.“I have to go. Maybe you missed whoever you’re l
Angel.I slid my hands inside my coat pocket as I stepped out onto my porch. The morning air was cold and fresh so I decided to take a walk to work, instead of getting a cab like I had originally planned.Leaves rustled at my ankles as I walked, the wind rustling them. The sky was a dull gray, and there was the scent of damp pavement in the air.Normally, I would have been behind the wheel of my car at this moment, trying to beat traffic while drowning out my thoughts with music. But last night, after I finished interrogating the suspects at the holding facility and filled my reports, my engine gave out when it was time to leave. It was around 11:30 pm by then so I tried fixing it with my limited knowledge of car mechanics. I popped the hood, cursed at the engine, and kicked the tire as if it would knock some sense into it. But of course, nothing happened. Finally, I gave up and called a cab. I was almost freezing to death as I waited under the security lights that were flickerin
Castle.The last two days had been hell—the kind of hell that sank into your bones, where tension curled under the skin and paranoia clung to every corner of the mind.My people were restless, and god dammit, so was I.The FBI raid had rattled the foundations of our world, and since then, things had started to fray at the edges.Ten rookies, yanked from Kaito’s territory like weeds. They had parents, relatives and they were beginning to distrust me. While trying my best to placate the aggrieved relatives, I have been trying to gather information. But there's been nothing, just silence.And silence was a dangerous thing in this business.I had tried to stay out of the thick of it. I really had. For months now, I’d been keeping my hands clean, or at least cleaner than usual.I've been delegating more, and showing my face less. I let my subordinates handle the operations while I focused on bigger pieces of the board.But the truth is, I’d stepped in more times this last week alone, and
Angel. I didn’t eat lunch, I couldn’t. My stomach churned too violently with rage and regret to even consider food. Instead, I stormed back into the office with the kind of determination that only heartbreak can fuel, laced with venom. I wasn’t just hurt, I was furious. Furious at myself for even thinking Marcello could be different. Furious that I had dared to hope. I mean, this was why I didn't do feelings and long term shit. I’d left a case—the case—to go see that two-timing, lying son of a gun called Marcello. I had left behind the very thing that might finally bring justice for my father… for what? For a man who didn’t even flinch when I walked away with my soul in shreds? Never again. I swung open the office door, already mentally preparing a plan to dive back into my files and drown myself in paperwork until my bones ached. But the universe wasn’t done screwing with me today, because Dan was there. Dan, who had been dodging our shared office like it was a problem. A