Chapter 52 - Marco

I was still in disbelief at everything Angela had done to that man. I'd always known she'd become like me—bloodthirsty and wild, letting that dark side fully emerge. I just hadn't imagined it would happen so suddenly.

But I couldn't deny the look of relief that took over her face with every cut, every scream she provoked. Angel was getting her revenge, and I could see her expression lighten when she realized the bastard was dead.

Unfortunately, the brief joy didn't last. When Filippo opened his filthy mouth, she paused on the stairs for an instant before continuing, pretending nothing had happened.

"How did we make Marco watch everything we did to you? I'm sure he enjoyed the show."

"Tell me you didn't see it?" That was the first thing out of her mouth when we reached the training room. "Tell me you didn't watch the videos he sent."

Her gaze was fixed on my face, waiting for an answer. I'd waited so long to have her eyes on me, but it was only happening in bad situations, like this one.

I couldn't lie to her—not about this. My own expression should have served as the answer.

"I saw them—all of them."

"Why? What the hell—everything wasn't bad enough already?" Angela shouted, looking away from me and throwing her arms up, seeming ready to destroy the entire room.

"I could say I watched to find something that might tell us where you were, but I'd be lying. I had to know what was happening to you, and watching was the way I found to not listen to my imagination."

"How can I... I can't even think of you watching those things..."

"Don't forget I've been through something like this, Angel. You can talk to me—tell me how you're feeling and what's on your mind. I want you to trust me," I said, believing my words would relax her, at least enough to talk about it. But it was the opposite—Angela screamed, throwing everything off the table onto the floor.

"Yes, I know we've been through similar things. Finally, you had me just as you wanted—broken, bloodthirsty, a killer, a dark soul. We share demons, and I was counting on that to rebuild the bridge between us," she shook her head in denial. "But knowing this changes everything—there's no possibility of it happening now."

"What are you talking about? This is the second time you've accused me of getting what I wanted. Do you really think I wanted something like this to happen to you?"

When she said it in the hospital, it was like a punch to my stomach, and now again—I knew she blamed me for not being able to protect her and letting it happen. But to believe I wanted this for her, that I wished it would happen...

"You said it yourself—you planned to make me cold and hard like you and use me as a weapon against my father and the Cosa Nostra. I didn't forget that you told me that day you couldn't look at me because you saw you'd succeeded—and now it's even worse. I'm a broken soul just like you; I hit rock bottom and saw the darkest side of people. I live with my demons every instant in my mind, just like you," she bellowed, leaving me surprised. I didn't even remember saying I couldn't look at her. "How do you think we can get back together? I can't even look at you after knowing you saw everything!"

"Melissa had just died—I was angry. Don't mix things up, Angela!"

A fake laugh echoed as she kept her back to me, even as I tried to get closer. If I didn't have so much fear of triggering something in her mind, I'd have thrown her against that wall and held her neck, forcing her to look at me while we talked.

"Filippo was right—he fucked with your head and ended us both. Now, even when that bastard dies, I won't be able to erase from your mind everything you saw."

"I don't need you to try to erase anything for me—I know how to deal with my demons very well," I took a step forward, ready to hold her, but she turned in that instant, coming face-to-face with me, and her body shrank back.

"Can you deal with the image of seeing your wife raped and tortured by several men? You, who's always been possessive and proud of being my only man. Will you still desire me? Will you be able to touch me the same way without remembering those images?"

I swallowed hard, speechless to respond to her. It wasn't what I'd expected to be worrying her. I'd thought of all the other scenarios, but not about our intimacy.

"We don't know how it'll be, Angel. The only certainty we have is that everything has changed, but we'll make it work," that was the only thing I could say to her, who for the first time seemed like the innocent, frightened girl who'd arrived here, defensive against everyone.

"We'll make it work? Do you really think a marriage without love is worth all the effort?" She hurled the questions at me, using my words to attack me again. "We can divide the territories—I can take care of one part, and you another. The Cosa Nostra territory is huge; we'd live far from each other and..."

"NO!" I bellowed, grabbing her arms. "We're not separating, and we're not staying away from each other in any way. We'll live under the same roof and solve our problems. Nothing and no one will separate me from you, Angela!"

Her chin trembled, and her whole body shuddered under my hands, but before I could hug her, my little angel flared her nostrils and pushed me away.

"For now, I'll sleep in the guest room—I'll ask them to move my things," she murmured with a choked voice and left with hurried steps.

As soon as she crossed the doors, Nero gripped my shoulder, stopping me from following her, unsatisfied with that conversation.

"Give her some time—today's already been an agitated day."

"A little time and that's it—I'm not giving her a damn divorce. Angela is mine!"

"Everyone knows that, but maybe she doesn't have the same certainty as before," he said, opening my eyes to all the madness she'd just uttered.

"She hasn't forgotten the things I said on our last night together—both about not loving her and wanting her to be like me," I pointed out, threading my fingers through my hair and pulling hard. "We didn't have time to process the fight, her mother's death, and Mel's death. The next day, our lives were already back to a rollercoaster of horror."

"Maybe that's exactly what you both need—time to process everything. Why not take the trip to Mexico? Helping Mendoza will take your mind off the problems here, and when you return, you can solve it all together."

I took a deep breath, staring at the rain outside getting even stronger, matching the confusion inside me, but maybe Nero was right—a little time away could give her the space she needed to process everything before we could talk like two normal people.

I just needed an opportunity to tell Angel.