Chapter 59 - Marco

I woke with a jolt that made me open my eyes quickly, expecting the worst. But the small body next to mine shook again, and before my sleep-clouded mind could process what was happening, her scream echoed through the room, freezing my body.

I'd heard that macabre scream many times before—the one that seemed to come from her soul, tearing her insides. But every time I'd heard it, it was from afar, from outside her room in the hospital or from my own room. This was the first time I heard it right beside me.

"Angel? Wake up, love," I called, already turning on the bedside lamp and grabbing her shoulders. "Wake up, come on, Angela! It's just a nightmare!" Her scream echoed again, and I pulled her body into my arms, finally seeing her eyes open wide with genuine terror. "It was a nightmare—it's over. You're in our home, in my arms; no one can touch you here!"

Her eyes darted from side to side as if she were assimilating where she really was, and then her nails dug into my back. Angela buried her face against my chest, starting to breathe deeply against my skin—she seemed to desperately need to feel my scent, and I knew how that felt, needing something to bring back reality and send the ghosts back to their cells, even if it was something simple like the scent or body heat of someone we love.

"Marco," she whispered after a long time, then let out the breath against my body, seeming a bit calmer.

"It's me," I murmured against her hair. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

I started rocking back and forth, cradling her body against mine, hoping she'd manage to fall back asleep, but her ragged breathing and the heart pounding fast against my hands told me she wouldn't.

"I need air," she jumped from the bed in the thin satin nightgown covering her body and marched out of the room with astonishing speed.

"Angela? Where are you going at this hour? Fuck!" I growled, running after her and grabbing only our robes. I hurried down the stairs, tying mine without caring if I wasn't wearing anything underneath—I wanted to reach her and stop her from doing something crazy. "Damn it, Angel, stop and listen to me!"

She seemed blind and deaf, crossing the front door and stepping onto the cold grass without caring about the soldiers around or her lack of proper clothing. She looked like a woman on a mission no one could stop.

As soon as she reached the training room, I knew what she wanted. Even though they'd said she sometimes lost herself for hours training, I knew that wasn't what she was seeking now. Angel was after Filippo!

"Wake those sons of bitches up!" she shouted from the start of the basement stairs, not stopping for even a second.

"Are you sure you want to do this in the middle of the night?" I questioned her when I reached the last step, watching her pace back and forth impatiently, barefoot, wearing a damn nightgown in that hole surrounded by men.

"If I can't sleep, neither will they!" She affirmed, heading straight to the cabinet where the tools were kept.

The table was strangely clean—for sure they'd ordered it cleaned after she left, since she'd been spending too much time in that place. Since my last conversation with Nero while I was in Mexico, I knew she was going there frequently and had killed several in a single day, even breaking her own fingers.

We still hadn't talked about this lack of control—I didn't want to push her too hard in one day—but I saw I needed to do it urgently.

"Already missing it?"

"Losing your teeth didn't affect you, huh, Filippo," she replied, and I needed to take a second look at the man, who didn't resemble Filippo at all, who had been there a few weeks ago.

He was thin, naked, with bruises and cuts on every visible part of his body. His face was completely disfigured, the nose very swollen and purple in different shades—there was so much dried blood on his face that it was hard to identify the skin there.

"He looks more like the rat he really is," I said, walking toward him and liking the work Angela had done. I felt a great pride in her for facing her abuser head-on and leading him to know hell. "A beautiful work of art."

"And you're here because you can't fuck the slut? I said I'd torture you with the videos—she knows," even with his slurred voice, the bastard wouldn't stop talking.

"I'm just not punching you because I respect Angela's request—you're all hers."

As if taking the cue, she approached, twirling pliers in her fingers with a calmness that hadn't been there a second ago.

"He's eager to die, but I already told you—you'll suffer a lot first," she circled him, and when she placed the pliers on his shoulder, he jumped in the chair, showing how anxious he was. "Only when you forget your own existence."

Angela grabbed his hair, yanking his head back brutally until it was against the chair's backrest, and with a punch, made the bastard open his mouth, letting out a groan of pain.

Without him expecting it, she shoved the pliers into his mouth, grabbing one of his teeth while her other hand stayed on his chin, keeping his mouth open.

He had almost no teeth left in his mouth, and I had to give her credit for doing it with such composure. Angel twisted the pliers from side to side, making the bastard start screaming and writhing in the chair before finally pulling hard, letting the blood drip as Filippo screamed.

But she didn't seem anywhere near satisfied—even smiling, I could see Angel had much more in mind. And that's how it went for a few minutes until I was tired of seeing her give so much attention to that piece of shit.

"Let's go home, Angel."

"I haven't finished with him yet, but you can go..."

"I'm not leaving and letting you stay here dressed like that!" I reminded her to see if common sense returned. "You can torture him as much as you want tomorrow, but now let's sleep."

I approached her, taking the small hammer from her hands and throwing it away. But Angel raised an eyebrow, clearly in challenge.

"I won't be able to go back to sleep anyway—so go; everyone here is used to seeing me dressed like this," she said with composure, turning to the table while I couldn't believe her words.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I questioned, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back to me. "You really come here dressed like this every night?"

Angela stared at me in silence, just our eyes locking in a standoff to see who would back down first, but I wasn't going to back down when it came to her and that damn nightgown.

"Yes," Filippo grunted, starting to laugh. "She prefers visiting me... over you. I'm better for burning off that... adrenaline, aren't I, kitten?"

Even slurring, he taunted me, making my blood boil with rage. I knew it was true—I hadn't been here long, and the only way for her to vent the anger and tension after the nightmare was there. Angel had done this before, and everyone told me. But now it was different—I was back.

"Is that what you want? To burn energy? I can show you a much more interesting way to do it," I said, grabbing her waist and pulling her against me.

"What are you doing?" She asked, perplexed, when I slid my fingers between her legs. When her brows furrowed, I knew she was starting to get aroused, and I didn't wait before pushing her against the wall, lifting her leg around my hip so I could thrust my fingers inside her. "Marco..."

Her moan inflamed me even more with lust, and my cock sprang hard against the robe fabric. I lifted her easily, trapping her body between mine and the cold wall, but that didn't seem to matter, as Angel wrapped her legs around my hip, moaning as I fucked her with my fingers.

"Everyone out. Now!" I exclaimed when she ground against me, showing me what she wanted, and my soldiers left the place in an instant. "Now I'll make you scream my name in pleasure—and learn that when you can't sleep, you should wake me to give you pleasure until you're too exhausted to stay awake!"

"Ohhh... please, fuck me," she moaned when I hit the right spot in her core, but I stayed there, fingering her, watching her body writhe, nipples hard and marked against the golden satin, her cheeks turning even redder as her breathing lost its rhythm.

I gripped her neck, joining our lips and sliding my mouth against hers at the same pace my fingers thrust in and out of her. Her hands grabbed my neck, pulling me closer as if she wanted to fuse our bodies.

I felt the first spasm of her pussy against my fingers and continued feeling her clench and moan before escaping my mouth to scream my name as she came deliciously.

Our eyes met, and she flashed a naughty smile, showing me that was my she-devil. Her ragged breathing joined mine, and with a quick peck, she lowered her legs, pushing me back until I sat in the empty chair near Filippo.

"Now it's my turn!" She exclaimed, sitting on my lap.