Chapter 29 - Angela

I marched straight into the house and headed for my room. I was a mess of emotions—sadness, relief, shock, happiness.

In a single morning, I had become a killer. I had faced my father, begged for Marco’s life and his men’s, and watched my father die.

I stepped under the hot shower seeking some kind of comfort, anything that could wash away the chaos inside me. I would rather be in Marco’s arms, being held, but he had too much to deal with.

“What’s going to happen now, God?” I murmured to myself as the water poured over my body.

My mother and brothers needed me. Without my father to control the Cosa Nostra, everyone would start fighting to see who would take his place. They were in danger at home—but how were we supposed to break in and get them out?

I felt helpless. I hadn’t managed to help anyone since I’d arrived; it was just problem after problem. How could I protect my family when I couldn’t even protect myself?

The first sob escaped me, and I couldn’t stop the flood that followed. I really was lost—adrift—and I didn’t recognize that girl anymore. I bent over, crying, letting everything that had been stuck inside me pour out: the fights, the problems, the murders, all the blood spilled since my wedding. It was too much to process.

“Hey, hey. It’s going to be okay.” I heard Marco’s voice as he stepped into the shower, and I turned away, not wanting him to see me like this. “I promise it’s going to be okay.”

“Go away, just… leave me alone…” I sobbed, hitting his chest in a useless attempt to push him back.

I tried to stay strong, but he ignored me. Still fully dressed, Marco crouched beside me and wrapped his arms tightly around me, holding me while the sobs shook through me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against my hair. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

He repeated those words over and over, like I was a frightened child. And maybe now he saw me that way. But as his fingers stroked my hair, his arms tightened around me, and his lips pressed soft kisses to my head, I let myself fall apart in his embrace without caring how pathetic I might look.

I don’t know how long it took before my crying eased. When it finally did, I stood and pulled him under the shower with me. I should’ve felt uncomfortable being naked in front of him, but the truth was that Marco made me feel safe—it was strange, but it was true.

“You need to take your clothes off if you want to shower,” I said when I realized he was still focused entirely on me.

He gave me a small smile, then reached for the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one before stepping out of his pants. My eyes followed his fingers as they traced along the waistband of his boxers. That moment wasn’t about sex—it was about comfort and closeness—but I couldn’t deny that his body had an effect on me.

“Happy now?” he asked as he joined me under the stream of hot water, close enough that our bodies brushed.

Our skin slid together under the water, and Marco kept his eyes locked on me, studying every move, every reaction.

“I’m not going to fall apart again. You don’t have to keep checking on me,” I muttered as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel his gaze burning into me.

“I’m not watching you for that,” he said, making me let out a dry laugh. It was obvious he still worried I’d turn into some spoiled little princess. “You can cry all you want, Angel. I’m here for you to cry, scream, moan—whatever you need.”

I rubbed my face, finally opening my eyes to meet his. Marco’s signature half-smile was there, the one that always left me flustered.

“I wish I could be simple and straightforward like you. Not let everything that happened today get to me—but it was impossible,” I murmured. He moved closer, his hands sliding down to my waist.

“Do you really think I expected you to handle today calmly? I’d be worried if you didn’t react at all.” His fingers brushed over my cheeks as he stepped even closer. “The truth is, if I’d had the slightest idea anything could go wrong today, I never would’ve taken you. It should’ve been just signatures, handshakes, and a glass of whiskey before heading home in peace.”

“But my father was one step ahead and found a way to screw us over,” I said flatly. “Don’t you see I’m right? Your life would be so much better without me. If you hadn’t kidnapped me, you wouldn’t have lost the shipment or your men. Today was just more proof—you lost more men and nearly your own life.”

Marco lifted his other hand to my face, brushing my hair back and threading his fingers through the back of my neck, holding me still.

“I already told you—you’re worth more than that to me!” he said, leaning in until his face was just inches from mine, making my heart pound in my chest. “I’m not giving you up, Angela. And I need you to keep that in your head, every second.”

“Why?” I whispered, staring into his eyes as water dripped between us. “Why won’t you let me go? Why would you rather die than lose me? Is it just pride?”

“I took you because I couldn’t stand losing. I kissed you, tasted the sweetness of your pussy, and I’m not letting you go!” His confession hit me like a shockwave—I hadn’t expected him to be so blunt. “You’re mine. There’s no going back. We’ll stand side by side forever.”

I wanted to ask how he could be so certain, so confident when everything around us was falling apart. But the thought vanished the moment he kissed me.

His lips molded to mine, his tongue invaded my mouth without hesitation. Marco pressed against me, our bodies fusing under the hot water.

We were a tangled mess of arms, legs, and mouths until his hands slid to my ass, lifting me effortlessly and squeezing, forcing a moan from my lips.

“Marco…” I gasped, feeling his erection hard against my skin as my legs wrapped around his waist.

“Tell me what you want, Angel. Tell me—and I’ll give it to you.”