Chapter 46 - Angela

I knew my mother wouldn't accept anything from Marco's family, and that was proven after she refused to wear any of the clothes Alessia bought for her and tried to twist everything that had happened to me.

When my sister came crying to my room, asking if it was true that "Marco had abused me and forced me to marry him, that I wasn't thinking straight after all the brainwashing he did," I knew I'd have to take action. I couldn't keep her there or let her spread all kinds of lies about Marco and me.

My mother only cared about her desire to see the Cosa Nostra destroyed as revenge, and she'd use anyone she could—even my siblings.

That's how I knew what I had to do: she needed to leave with her own poison. I put it in her food and made sure to bring it to her room myself, ensuring no one else had access. If she wanted to stay with my father so badly, she could join him—without disturbing my siblings' lives any further.

"Why didn't you tell me anything, Angel?" Marco questioned me after watching her fall, putting an end to our nightmare.

He didn't understand, and in that moment, I felt stupid enough for having done it to help him too. Marco was right—he never promised love; feelings weren't part of our deal. The only fool who put her heart in this game was me.

"Because even if you don't love me, I love you enough to kill for you!" I declared, looking deep into his eyes.

Incredibly, he looked at me as if speechless—something I didn't see often, the great Demon of the Camorra at a loss for words, staring at me like I was the most surprising and incredible person he'd ever seen.

Before I could pull away from him, a scream of pain and lament echoed to where we were in the garden, sending a chill through my stomach and stiffening my entire body.

"Frank!" Marco exclaimed, and everyone around us raised their weapons again, expecting something even worse than the horror show of my mother. I pulled the gun from the holster on my thigh, not caring about anything else.

We didn't wait for another sound—we ran toward the mansion, searching for Frank. Marco led the way, calling for the man, but we didn't have to go far. As soon as we reached the top of the stairs, we found Frank in the hallway, crying and screaming, with Mel unconscious in his arms.

"No. It can't be!" I repeated, unable to believe this could be happening. "No."

Marco rushed to them, taking his sister in his arms and shaking her desperately while calling her name, but Melissa was limp, eyes wide and mouth foaming blood just like my mother.

I approached and touched her beautiful face, now cold and lifeless, along with the dull, frozen eyes. That broke my heart, and I couldn't hold back.

I couldn't believe Melissa had been hit because of me. I looked at Frank, repeating incoherent words as tears streamed from his eyes, which never left her for an instant.

It was my fault—I'd brought my mother into that house. He'd helped me save the venomous snake that killed the love of his life, destroying that family even more and tearing his heart apart.

"What..." Nero lost his words as soon as he stopped beside us and saw the scene.

The huge man began to tremble from head to toe, his eyes locked on his sister as tears started streaming down his face. I couldn't imagine the pain he was feeling in that moment—it was their little sister, the princess of the two of them, and she was dead, poisoned by my mother.

I stood and hugged him, trying to provide at least physical support, but his knees buckled, bringing him to the floor. Frank staggered back, collapsing seated on the ground as Marco shook his head no.

We already knew there was no turning back—we couldn't save her. The poison had ended everything. Destroyed her life just like my mother's.

"The doctor's on his way... Oh my God!" Giovanna exclaimed, stopping her steps at the start of the hallway upon noticing the scene in front of her.

Vladimir was beside her and looked as shocked as the rest of us. Nero's engagement night had just turned into a bloodbath—two deaths and no joy.

Marco stood with his sister in his arms and carried her into the room she kept in the house, placing her carefully on the bed and out of sight of any curious onlookers in the hallway.

Then his eyes met mine through the door as I held my arms around Nero, trying to comfort him, even though I knew nothing would be enough to ease the pain he felt in that moment—nothing would bring Mel back.

Everything around us was turning into this—death surrounded us, and Marco knew it; I could see it in his eyes. We'd barely felt relief from ridding ourselves of my father, and he lost his sister—the only woman he'd loved besides his mother, the girl who lit up their life of deaths.

It took a few minutes for Nero to lock himself in his room—he didn't even say goodbye to his fiancée. The Russians left, promising to be at the funeral and giving the family a moment alone to grieve.

I slipped into the room, letting Marco handle everything while I thought about what to do with Alessia and Enrico—I needed to keep them safe, and I knew now more than ever Marco would want to conquer all the territories that once belonged to the Cosa Nostra, as a declaration of power.

"Are you okay?" I heard his voice pull me from my research on the computer. "I haven't seen you for the rest of the night."

He didn't approach, staying on the other side of the room as he stripped off the clothes still stained with his sister's blood. His eyes didn't linger on me either, darting everywhere.

"I'm sending Alessia to a boarding school in the United States and Enrico to France," I warned, finally getting his attention.

"What? When did you decide that, and why do you want to keep your family away from you right now?"

"If I could, I'd even want to stay away from myself. After everything that happened, everything I did and caused, it surprises me you're in this room," I spoke the truth of how I felt, but I wasn't pitying myself—it was more a realization that things would get even worse. I'd have to become worse, and I didn't want that for my siblings.

"What are you talking about, Angela? And where else would I be if not in our room?" He questioned, approaching me with a crease marking his forehead. "Nothing that happened is your fault."

"Only bad things have happened to you since you entered that church to take me from Filippo's hands," he stopped in front of me, arms crossed, listening attentively. "I'll be eternally grateful to you for that until my last days, but I'll understand if you want to leave me. Melissa was everything to you all, and because of my desire to save my mother, she's dead."

"Do you think this is your fault? That I'd blame you and want to distance myself from you for this?"

"You couldn't even look at me when you entered the room, Marco! It's obvious you blame me, and with every reason—I brought her into this house."

He leaned down suddenly, grabbing the sides of the chair and trapping me, making it impossible to do anything but look at him.

"I avoided your gaze because I realized I succeeded in what I planned to do with you from the moment you arrived here," Marco declared with fury. "I swore I'd win your trust and turn you into someone like me—cold and hard—and turn you against your father. You'd become your father's worst nightmare, and that's exactly what you became."

"The... what?" was all I could say, feeling disoriented by his words.

"You wanted to kill your father, and today you killed your mother, destroying their name—plus, you're helping us plan the takeover of Cosa Nostra territory, erasing once and for all the empire your father built," Marco explained, making me understand better what he meant. "You'll bring Giovanni Mancini to oblivion, becoming his worst nightmare."

I pushed his shoulders, needing to get away from Marco after hearing all that, but he didn't budge, continuing to stare at me and force me to look at him.

"That... That was what you wanted from the beginning? You always wanted to turn me into a weapon to end everything tied to my father?"

I swallowed hard, unable to believe what I was hearing. It couldn't be true—he wouldn't do that. Marco had said how much he cared for me, how he wanted me well, and always gave me the choice of what to do.

"Having you by my side would also be important to gain the support of the men who worked with your father—after all, you're a Mancini, and our marriage was legitimate, following mafia rules," he said casually, but I felt like he'd punched me in the stomach. "Those who stand against us will face our weapons."

Everything had been a lie—a manipulation and a show to lead to that moment, the moment he could get revenge against the mafia that covered up the man who raped him and did the same to his mother, destroying his life.

I'd been a pawn in his game of conquest—not more than another piece on that board, someone Marco manipulated according to his will.

Fury invaded me, and without thinking anymore, I clenched my fist and raised it quickly, punching his face hard. The surprise and force made him release the chair and stagger back. I didn't care about the pain spreading through my fingers and knuckles—I stood and went after him, kneeing his groin and leaving him grunting in pain before turning toward the door.

"I'll regret for the rest of my life the day I let you into my heart, Marco Falcone!"