Chapter 55 - Marco

Those were the four longest weeks of my life. I would have returned sooner if the confrontations there hadn't been so intense—the Japanese were allying with the rival cartel, trying to see if they could take Mexico or part of Mendoza's territory. All that chaos was delaying the delivery of our drugs, and we couldn't let it continue for another day. But when news about Angela arrived, I wanted to leave that place in an instant—everything I heard gave me the certainty that she was losing herself in her own pain and becoming something even she didn't understand.

However, now I was back, and this was going to be resolved!

As soon as I entered the house and searched for her with my eyes, I realized how much I'd missed her more than anything. I followed the sound of conversations coming from the dining room, and as soon as I stopped at the entrance, my eyes met hers—she was sitting at the head of the table, eating with a bandage on her forehead that wasn't there when I left.

"Brother, finally..." Nero didn't have a chance to finish, because Angela raised the gun toward me and fired without blinking. "You're here."

The bullet grazed me the instant I turned just in time—by a centimeter, it would have buried itself in my shoulder.

"What the fuck is happening here? Have you lost the rest of your sanity, angel?" I shouted at her, who didn't flinch for a moment, keeping the gun aimed.

"Don't call me that—you don't have that right," she spat the words, giving me a look of contempt before picking up her cup and bringing it to her mouth, letting me notice the scraped knuckles from all the madness she'd been up to in the last few weeks.

"Is one of you going to explain what's happening here, or has this house turned into a complete madhouse?" I questioned my brother and Frank, who were at the table, both silent, just watching the scene.

I didn't wait for an answer before marching toward Angel, confronting her up close, not caring about the gun still raised, following every one of my steps.

This could only be a cry for attention, because I couldn't imagine anything that would make her hate me like that. I knew Angela wanted distance from me when I left the country, but there wasn't that look of disappointment and contempt I saw now.

"Once I told you that if I found out you'd been with another woman, I'd kill you," she replied calmly and set the cup back on the saucer before turning her gaze to me. "I wasn't joking, Marco."

I blinked twice, unable to believe what she was saying—it couldn't be; Angel couldn't be fantasizing that I'd been with another woman and acting like a maniac because of it.

"You're putting on this show because you think I cheated on you? And you two over there didn't even try to stop this insanity?" I questioned the two who remained silent. "What the fuck were you thinking letting something like this happen?"

"They don't have to allow or not. This house is mine—I'm part of the Camorra and give orders to them just like you!" She stood, pushing the chair back and facing me head-on. "Or did you forget everything after rolling in bed with a slut?"

I clenched my teeth in anger at her words, but I couldn't help noticing how much weight she'd lost. She was wearing a black jumpsuit that, even loose, let me see she'd lost even more. The bandage on her forehead, along with the dark circles around her eyes, were other things that irritated me.

My little angel was going through hell, and yet she wouldn't let me help.

"You're in no condition to give orders. Can't you see you're losing your mind? You're not even thinking straight."

"You won't manage to label me as crazy, Marco. To your misfortune, I have proof," she turned, grabbing the phone from the table and fiddling for an instant before turning it toward me. "Go ahead—say it's a fake."

I stared at the screen, seeing the photo where I was talking to some of Mendoza Cartel's men during one of the meetings, and a girl was sitting on my lap, one arm around my neck and the other hand on my chest. I couldn't believe some damn bastard had done this and sent the photo to her. Hell—as if all the problems we were going through weren't enough.

"Fuck—how did you get this?" I questioned after going through all the photos twice.

Angela let out a scornful laugh and sat back in the chair, staring at the men in front of her.

"In my defense, I believed you'd have a better explanation than asking where she got the photos," Nero grumbled, raising his eyebrows.

"Go fuck yourself, Nero. You really think I'd betray my wife?"

"Explain the damn photos once and for all, Marco. We've all had enough time to think of all the scenarios, but only you know what really happened," Frank urged me, and I wanted to punch both of them before dragging Angela upstairs and showing her that for me, only she existed.

"The girl sat on my lap for two seconds before I asked her to leave, and then she went to the lap of the man to my right. That's what they were there for."

"So the slut sat on your lap, and you want me to believe it lasted only a few seconds and nothing more?" She set the gun on the table and crossed her arms, turning to me. "Good thing I had her brought here."

"What?" I questioned, unable to believe it when she shouted one of the soldiers' names, and the same entered with the woman from the photo handcuffed, being dragged by the arm. "What the hell are you thinking, Angela?"

"Let's see how much your stories match—come on, dear, come over here," Angel waved to the woman, who staggered uncertainly with a frightened look staring at us. "Tell me what was happening when this photo was taken?"