Chapter 58 - Angela

I couldn't believe I'd managed it—I'd faced the panic and fear I felt when he touched me. The sensation of being touched by Marco, feeling desired and loved by him, was so much more potent than the fear that had settled inside me.

With every affirming word he spoke, every time he called me his she-devil—a nickname only he knew—Marco managed to bring me back to reality, pulling me from my nightmares and painful memories.

"I thought I'd never feel pleasure again," I murmured with him still over me, lying on the dining room table, naked, as if nothing else mattered. "I thought I wouldn't be able to bear being touched by you again."

"I wouldn't give up—no matter how long it took, I'd be right here, waiting for the first chance to be by your side," Marco kissed my shoulder and lifted his torso. "I didn't lie when I said our marriage would be forever—there's no other woman I'd marry; you were the only one who managed to grab the monster."

I smiled at his words—it truly felt like a declaration of love, even knowing he'd never love me one day, but I could content myself with that, with that possessive and dominant part that being with someone meant to him.

Marco believed he couldn't love anyone, and I understood him—after talking to Frank and seeing everything Marco was willing to do, I knew he was just someone even more broken than I was. There was no point insisting on it; protection, care, companionship, and a warm body were all he thought he could offer.

And even knowing that, I couldn't make my heart go back a step and stop loving him—it was impossible, especially when he was right there in front of me, willing to take a bullet to stop me from doing something crazy.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," I grabbed his face, planting a quick kiss, and he took the chance to pull me from the table onto his lap.

"Never—you won't get rid of me even in hell," I gave him another kiss as he draped the suit over my shoulders before starting to walk with me clinging to his body, one leg on each side and arms around his neck, with his hand holding me by the ass. "Let's get out of here before someone walks in and sees you like this—I'm not in the mood to gouge out some eyes today."

His words drew a genuine smile from me—I didn't know how he could still feel jealous over me after everything, but it was good to see that some things wouldn't change despite it all.

He climbed the stairs without stopping sliding his lips over my skin, now kissing or brushing, rubbing them against me, keeping me in a state of arousal.

"You're teasing me," I murmured almost breathlessly just before he kicked the door shut and headed straight to the bathroom.

"Teasing? No—just keeping you warm, because I plan to hear you moan my name many times today!" He affirmed, tossing the suit on the floor and stepping under the shower.

The hot jet hit our bodies, drawing a little yelp from me that made him smile. It was impossible to see him like that and not be hit by a wave of sensations spreading through my entire body, leaving me paralyzed in front of him, as if I just wanted to etch that moment and what he made me feel into my memory.

Now, more than ever, I knew how important happy memories were, and moments I hadn't even paid attention to were etched inside me with such force that they could send me to a little happy world, even if I was facing a painful hell.

"I love you," I murmured, seeing surprise take over his face as he leaned toward me. "I love you, Marco Falcone. And if I never thanked you before for everything you did and everything you gave me, thank you."

"What are you talking about, she-devil?" He squeezed me tighter against his body, and I grabbed his face with both hands, feeling the need to touch him in some way as I opened my heart like that.

"I may not have been a grateful person since we met—I really don't know how I acted like you in all those small moments when you helped me, saved me, or even showed me who I really was. But while I thought I was going to die, it was our happy memories that kept me standing and prevented me from going mad," I planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Forgive me for everything my stupidity caused—I know how much those images affected you and Nero, bringing back old memories."

It was impossible to control the tears that came to my eyes, but this time they were of relief, happiness, and lightness. It was liberating to put it all out there.

"What are you talking about? This... you don't have to apologize. None of what happened was your fault!" He affirmed firmly and pulled me away a bit, holding my torso and looking into my eyes. "It was me who hurt you, when I threw all those things in your face—I wanted to hurt you; you were right. But that stupidity of mine was what pushed you away and caused all this. If I hadn't said those things, you wouldn't have left home without telling me and wouldn't have put yourself at risk. I know you blame me, and you're right to do so."

"I don't blame you," I pushed Marco, getting down from his lap once and for all. "What are you talking about now? I was stupid—we were at war; I should have thought better and not let my anger toward you control my actions."

I placed my hands on my hips, staring at him totally confused. Why would I blame him for what Filippo did? He'd argued with me on the phone before it all happened, precisely reprimanding me for leaving without security.

"You couldn't even look at me—you didn't even want me to stay by your side in the hospital," he said with a deep crease forming between his brows. I could see better now how much he'd aged in the last few weeks—dark circles and wrinkles; I could even say there were more gray hairs in his head now. "Nero and even Frank you allowed to visit you, but not me—your husband."

"Because I couldn't look at you without feeling guilty!" I exclaimed, seeing him seem even more confused. "I know how all that would affect the Camorra, what people would say about you and me, plus the memories it brought back for you and your brother. I never wanted that, but my thoughtless act put me in Filippo's sights, and it could have been anyone in the situation we were in."

"But those things you said to me in the hospital, when you sent me away?"

"I was angry and hurt from the night before—after hearing you say you'd turned me into your version, I couldn't forget that we really were alike in that moment: both without parents, lives destroyed, bound to each other with souls shattered by a monster," I told him what had been going through my mind since I was taken from the airport, feeling my heart ache, but in a different way—it was a relief to share everything I felt. "I couldn't look at you, not even smell you without feeling guilty, and having our happy memories invaded and stained by those worms finished me off—the only things I could remember about you without hearing their disgusting laughs and phrases were the bad ones."

He took a step forward, still seeming incredulous about everything I was telling him, but wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him again.

His fingers slid over my face, wiping away the water mixing with tears, before holding the back of my neck, keeping my head toward him.

"Angel, are you saying it was our moments that helped you? I believed it was your anger toward me that kept you focused—your desire for revenge, both against them and me."

"My revenge kept me focused on what I'd have to do afterward, but it was you who occupied every protected space in my mind—they could do whatever they wanted; they couldn't kill me, not as long as I kept visualizing us together," he leaned down, kissing my forehead three times before pressing his to mine and staring into my eyes.

"The only one who should apologize here is me. Forgive me for hurting you by saying those things," he said without stopping caressing my face. "I know I really thought those things when I met you—that was my goal: to make you your father's worst nightmare, someone bloodthirsty enough not to care about killing him. But I never wanted you hurt—I'd put myself in your place a thousand times if it could free you from everything you went through."

I shook my head in denial, unable to avoid being hit by his words. He knew how to strike my heart and leave me flustered, even more in love with him.

"I forgive you, but I advise you not to do it again," Marco smiled and grabbed my ass, lifting me back onto his lap. "I'm eager to create new memories with you."

"All even happier, transparent, and hot!" He affirmed, pushing me against the wall and starting to kiss me.