Chapter 28 - Marco

It was hard to tell Angela what her own father had assured me. To matter so little to someone who was supposed to protect you must be horrible. I would never know what that felt like—my father may not have been perfect, but my mother had literally given her life for me.

"Then he’s going to kill me just so he doesn’t have to give you the satisfaction of winning. I should’ve known."

I could hear the sadness in her voice as she said it. My little angel’s shoulders slumped, and she lowered her head, staring at her hands.

"We still have a chance. We’re getting out of here!" I said firmly, even though I didn’t believe it myself. The helicopter could take too long to arrive, and if Mancini’s soldiers got here first, we wouldn’t survive.

Mendoza bent over his cousin, grabbed him by the shoulders, and started dragging him away.

"What are you doing?" I heard my brother ask as he followed closely behind. "Using the dead man as a shield now?"

"No, but I’m going to hang him outside as a warning to the bastards who show up," he growled, startling me—finally showing he’d gone back to being the man he was known to be.

I knew Mendoza’s reputation in Mexico. He was a man who lived by the rules of the underworld—loyal, ruthless, and disciplined. He’d let his cousin’s death show how much it had shaken him, a mistake that could have cost him his life, but apparently, the betrayal and the imminent danger had brought him back to reality.

"I only make things harder for you. I only bring problems into your life," Angela’s whispered voice drew my attention. "You’d be much better off without me."

"What are you talking about?" I frowned and tried to lift her chin, but she turned away, stepping back from my touch. "Angela, talk to me."

Instead of answering, she turned to Frank, denying me the chance to touch her and not even bothering to explain anything to me.

That was not the time for one of her childish breakdowns—we were on the edge of death. Couldn’t she understand that? Had I been that wrong to think Angela was anything like me?

"Do you think if I turn myself in, he’ll let you all go?" she asked him, and Frank just shrugged, his brow furrowed in as much confusion as mine.

"There’s no guarantee of that. Your father could just take you and kill all of us anyway," he tried to explain, but Angela only stared down at the phone in her hand as if weighing her options. But she didn’t have any options. I’d never let her do something that stupid.

"You’re not doing that!" I snarled, moving closer to snatch the phone from her hand, just as Nero and Mendoza came running back.

"They’re here! The convoy is armed to the teeth—our men will only be able to hold them off for a while!"

"Mancini’s with them—he’s leading the group," Mendoza confirmed what I feared.

That bastard would never let his men kill us without confirming it himself. He’d want to see our bullet-riddled bodies with his own eyes. He still wanted revenge for his brother.

I didn’t see them coordinate it, but the instant Angela started walking away, Frank grabbed me, stopping me from going after her.

"Angela, come back here! I forbid you to do this, damn it!" I shouted, struggling as more arms held me back. "Let me go, fuckers! I swear I’ll kill you bastards!"

"Take care of him for me, Frank!" I heard her shout from a distance. No—she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t turn herself in to her father.

I threw my body backward with all my strength until we slammed against the wall. We were a tangle of bodies and arms, but I managed to free one by slamming someone’s head into the concrete.

"Stop it, Falcone! She’s trying to protect you!" Mendoza shouted in front of me, but I just rammed my forehead into his nose, making him stumble back and let go of me.

Then I punched Frank, who was still clinging to my left side—again and again—even as blood splattered. The man didn’t let go, and his weight kept me from moving fast enough to reach her.

I heard the door open, and, luckily, Nero grabbed Frank and pulled him back until I was free.

"He’s not worth it—let him go after her," I heard Nero say as I was already running toward the woman who would be my undoing.

"Angela! When I get my hands on you, you’re going to regret this!" I yelled, sprinting until I reached the door.

She was a few steps ahead, phone to her ear, probably speaking to her father. My men stood in front of her, forming a barricade, but they were no match for the small army he commanded.

"Let them go. I’m here, Father. You don’t have to kill all these men because of me."

I couldn’t hear his response, but it was clearly a refusal—her body tensed even more. "I just... please, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll marry Filippo today and it’ll all be over."

"You really think I’m going to let you go back to him?" I asked, close enough to grab her if she tried to run again.

"What the hell are you doing out here? Get back inside! I don’t want you to get hurt!" She placed both hands on my chest and tried to push me away. "Go inside, Marco! Go and let me negotiate with him. I want you safe!"

"And I want you by my side—I’m not giving that up." I touched her face, but Angel slapped my hand away.

"Don’t be stupid! We’ll both die out here if you keep this up!"

"What a beautiful couple!" Mancini shouted, making us turn toward him. "It’s a shame you made so many bad choices, Falcone! Choosing that girl was your biggest mistake!"

"I believe the opposite—Angela is perfect for me." I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulling her body against mine, not caring about him.

"Of that I have no doubt. She’s childish, weak, and foolish—just like you. Two kids thinking they could run a mafia..."

"Well, that kid over there is the one who killed your ally hanging right there!" she shouted, pointing at Martinez’s body tied to a pillar. "You don’t know me. You never cared to know any of your children, Mancini!"

Hearing her call her father by his last name for the first time shocked me—and not just me. The bastard’s eyes widened, and he roared in rage as her fingers intertwined with mine.

He raised his gun, and in the same instant, Angela turned and threw her arms around me, as if she could protect me. My heart stopped for a moment as I looked down at the small being in my arms, holding me as if she could stop a bullet.

I placed my hand over her soft hair and turned our bodies, laying her down and covering her with mine.

"You’re mine. And I told you I wouldn’t let you go anywhere," I murmured, seeing her frightened eyes staring up at me—and then I kissed her.

My men fired back, and some were already down. We really were going to die there, but I was content knowing I had managed to turn her against her father—to the point of facing him to protect me. If Mancini killed me there, he’d know he’d lost. I saw it in his eyes when he heard her call his name.

Then the sound of the helicopter filled our ears—the deafening noise and wind made me lift my head. Maybe today wouldn’t be the day he killed me after all.

The machine gun fire from the aircraft was strong enough to hold them off, long enough for us to run back into the warehouse. I knew exactly what was coming next, and we needed to be safe.

As soon as we passed through the door, I knelt behind one of the shelves, covering Angela’s body with mine—and then the impact hit. The RPG exploded, shaking the ground, blowing the warehouse doors apart, and rattling the structure. But we were okay.

The ringing in our ears would fade in a few seconds, as would the dizziness, and soon we’d be home.

"Go, go!" I heard Nero and Frank shouting as they dragged us outside.

Mendoza tore away a piece of debris from our path, helping us through before running with us toward the helicopter—which didn’t even land, because we needed to get out fast.

"Looks like you really are a crazy son of a bitch," Mendoza said with a grin as the helicopter lifted off. "And I’m going to love working with you. I’m taking over the Martinez cartel—everything’s mine now. You’ve gained half of Mexico as your allies!"

And he wasn’t lying. The Martinez cartel was the largest, and Mendoza the second. United, he would be the king of Mexico—no one above him anymore. I reached out and shook his hand firmly, sealing our deal.

But when I turned to find Angela, expecting her to shake his hand too, her eyes were fixed on the fire burning in the yard below as we pulled away. The tall car where her father had been was now overturned and engulfed in flames.

"Are you all right, Angel?"

"Do you think he’s dead?" she whispered, and I just shrugged, kissing her hair and pulling her closer. "Do you think this nightmare is finally over?"

If Mancini was dead, it would be two major victories in one day. I’d marry Angela soon, and then we could take control of the Cosa Nostra. With him out of the way and allied with the biggest drug distributor on the market, no one would stand in my way.

I could only hope the bastard really was dead.