Chapter 27 - Angela

I focused on the situation unfolding before me; I wanted to understand how his deals worked and who his allies were. But my thoughts returned to Frank’s words.

Who could be the woman he was once in love with? The one who messed with his head enough to haunt him the way I do?

Marco found me just as I was staring at him, as if his body could somehow give me the answers I was searching for. I was being foolish, a complete fool for worrying about this.

I looked away and stepped aside, needing to think far from those inquisitive eyes. But even as I moved away, his voice still reached me—deep and powerful, echoing through the warehouse until it reached where I stood.

My gaze wandered over some crates and other objects that could only be illegal to be kept on those shelves. That would be the future beside Marco—secrets, illegality, and being unable to distance myself from his presence.

“Lost, beautiful?” I hadn’t even noticed the man in front of me until we were far too close.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” I questioned, stepping back, wanting to get away, though I could still hear Marco’s voice nearby.

“Hey, easy. What’s the rush? We’re all here closing a deal together. Your friend Marco isn’t any better than us,” he said, grabbing my arm tightly, trying to keep me in place.

The memories of what had happened at the club flooded my mind, and before I realized it, my hand was reaching inside my jacket, pulling out my gun.

I didn’t even think before doing it—my finger was already on the trigger, and the shot came quickly. The impact threw my body backward, making me pull the trigger again. The man staggered as another bullet hit him.

“Angela? Where are you?” Marco’s shout reached my ears, but all I could do was stare at the lifeless man on the floor, eyes wide open, staring back at me. “Answer me, Angel. Where are you?”

What had I done? I just... became a murderer? How could I have done this? His eyes seemed to stare back at me, asking the same questions.

I felt a hand touch me, carefully taking the gun from my grasp, and soon after, Mr. Mendoza arrived shouting, but nothing could stop me from staring at the man I had killed.

“What happened here? Martinez? Martinez?” he asked, holding the man in his arms, and I wanted to scream that I was the one to blame, that I had caused this. “Why? Why did you kill my cousin?”

My mouth opened and closed without any sound coming out. I was incapable of doing anything but stare at him as he held his dead cousin.

My eyes filled with tears, and I trembled, even as Marco wrapped his arms around me.

“Your cousin? Henrique Martinez is your cousin? What the hell were you two planning, and why was he hiding here?” Marco stepped forward, questioning him with a hardened voice, overflowing with rage.

“What the hell are you talking about? We didn’t have any kind of deal! This is your warehouse, where you insisted we meet!”

“Nero!” he only had to shout his brother’s name for the other man to kneel over the dead body and start searching his pockets.

Mendoza tried to stop him, but Frank was quick to pull him up and pin him against the wall. The man was strong and much bigger than Frank, but the situation had truly shaken him—he didn’t even seem to know how to use his own strength anymore.

My mind began to clear, and I looked around, searching for his men—the people who were supposed to be there to protect him.

“Where are his guards? If this is an ambush, why didn’t they come in when they heard the gunshots?” The words left my mouth before I could even process them.

Marco quickly moved toward the back door of the warehouse, taking me with him to the only spot where there was a small window. But there wasn’t a sign of anyone out there.

“No, no, this can’t be happening!” He brought his hand to his wrist, sliding his fingers across his watch screen, and started talking to someone. “Where are they?”

“We have no idea. The car that was here took off as soon as we heard the shots, and we’ve lost contact with the others.”

I was still confused by everything, shocked that I had killed a man. My nerves trembled as if I had a fever or something, but I tried to remain clear-headed—the same way I saw Marco and his friends staying calm.

I didn’t want to be like Mendoza, easily thrown into a corner and subdued. I needed to stay strong; giving in to the whirlwind of emotions would be my greatest weakness now.

“Fuck, this can’t be! Call for reinforcements immediately! I want the helicopter here now!” he ordered, then grabbed my face firmly, looking at me in a way I had never seen before—his eyes filled with concern and fear. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. I put your life in danger.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“This is an ambush. They pulled back for a bigger attack. If we leave here without heavy escort, we won’t make it far. Our only chance to get out of here alive is if the helicopter arrives in time!” Marco pressed his forehead against mine, close enough for our breaths to mix. “I put your life in danger. If something happens to you here today, it’s all my fault.”

“Don’t say that. Our lives are always at risk. We’re not normal people, remember?”

He gave me a small half-smile, and I couldn’t resist pressing my lips to his. I was terrified, but seeing him afraid for me—and not for his own life—somehow calmed me and gave me certainty that Marco would do everything to make sure I got out of there safely.

I just had to make sure he got out alive too.

“Marco!” It was Nero who called, forcing us to pull apart. “We found something on Martinez’s phone, and you’re not going to like it.”

We went back to where the others were. The body was still in the same place, face up. But Mendoza looked different—he wasn’t shaken anymore by his cousin’s death; now there was a murderous fire in his eyes, something dark and terrifying, the kind of look I had only seen once before—in Marco’s eyes when he broke into the club bathroom.

“They’re in the warehouse. Just a confirmation, and everyone will walk out of here, leaving those bastards to die without even knowing what hit them.”

“Great! Soon we’ll be celebrating the deaths of Falcone and Mendoza. The path will be clear for us to take everything!”

Those were the messages Nero showed us on the dead bastard’s phone. They were going to kill us all without hesitation.

“That son of a bitch,” Mendoza spat, kicking his cousin’s corpse. “He sold out to Mancini and corrupted my men. They all ran because they knew about his plan. We’d be attacked and killed here while he took over my side of the cartel and Mancini did the same with your side of the mafia.”

“My father did what...”

“Your father? You’re the daughter of that bastard Mancini?” Mendoza took a step toward me, stopping only when Marco moved forward. “I heard the stories about the wedding kidnapping. I didn’t think you were that crazy, but apparently you are!”

“My life is none of your fucking business! You should focus on getting out of here alive and dealing with the traitorous rats who just handed you over!”

“Wait, Mancini wouldn’t attack if he knew his daughter was here. He still wants her for that marriage with the scumbag,” Frank said, drawing everyone’s attention. “We can just tell him his little princess is here in the warehouse.”

I grabbed the phone from Nero’s hand, but Marco stopped me, holding my wrist and giving me a guilty look. What could it be now?

“Your father won’t stop the attack because of you.” I frowned, not understanding—my father might not love me or have any paternal instinct, but I was his bargaining chip; he wouldn’t give that up so easily. “He told me in the car when we confronted each other—he swore he’d rather kill you than let us be together.”