Chapter 8 - Marco

Her full lips molded to mine, yielding so easily to my touch. I held her face, but what I really wanted was to explore her curves. Damn the moment I promised I’d behave and earn her trust.

I bit Angela’s lower lip, urging her to open her mouth and let me slide my tongue inside, showing her how I’d soon explore her entire body. The moan that escaped her lips made me even more aroused, my cock straining against my dress pants. I cursed myself for being so easily swayed by this girl.

“Open your mouth, Angel. Let me show you how it’s done,” I urged, and her entire body stiffened.

What the hell? I was trying not to scare her, but she already seemed terrified.

“Stop, Filippo! Please.”

His name left her lips with genuine fear, and her expression was filled with disgust, completely different from the woman who had just asked me to teach her how to kiss.

But now my thoughts were racing elsewhere, imagining various scenarios where Filippo touched her and forced her to do something.

“What did that worm do to you?” The question burst from my mouth before I could think better of it. “Come on, Angel, what did he do?”

She shook her head and leaned against the desk, seeming rattled by my question. But I couldn’t care less about what she was feeling right now—there was only room for murderous thoughts in my mind.

“On the night of our engagement, my father left us alone, and he kissed me… or tried to. It wasn’t like your kiss. Filippo…” She took a deep breath, and I moved behind the desk to get a better look at her, seeing disgust twisting her sweet lips.

“Spit it out, damn it, or I’ll be forced to peel the skin off that bastard until he talks, and that would start another war,” I growled, not caring if I scared her or not.

But instead of fear, Angela raised her eyes, surprised by what I’d just said.

“He forced his tongue into my mouth, and when I didn’t open my lips, he shoved his fingers inside, forcing them and saying I’d be perfect for swallowing his… cock.” She swallowed hard and looked away from me. “Then he shoved his tongue in my mouth while grabbing my ass and trying to slide his hand over my breasts. He didn’t care about my discomfort because I’d soon be his, and then he could do whatever he wanted with me.” Angela scraped her nail against the wood, looking like a defeated little girl, and I hated seeing her like that. “I should blame the prostitute dress my father forced me to wear to show off for him, or for being told to let him do whatever he wanted, but he enjoyed my inexperience and even more when he saw me shaken.”

“Tell me he didn’t do anything more than that, little angel.”

“Why do you want to know? You don’t have to fight a battle that’s not yours. What he did isn’t considered anything to you men. I’m sure even if he had touched me in other places or forced me to do other things, it wouldn’t matter—after all, I’d still be a virgin, and he was my fiancé.”

Despite the visible discomfort in her gaze, Angela challenged me, raising an eyebrow. She was testing me to see if I’d actually care about what happened. It was clear she didn’t believe we were different from them.

“I want to know because if he only did that, I’ll rip out his tongue and the skin off his hands. Maybe, depending on his denial, I’ll take both his hands too.” Her eyes widened even more in shock, and I watched her swallow hard. I took the chance to lower my tone and give her a murderous look. “Now, if he did anything more to you, the consequences will be even worse. I’ll tear off every piece of his body that touched you.”

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, then let out a small smile. Angela might seem like an innocent, submissive girl, but the truth was she’d never had the space to let her courage and malice grow. But she was cunning, and I could see that clearly.

“Of course, if I agree to marry you, you’d want to do that to him to clear your honor.” She waved her hand dismissively. “So if I spread a rumor that I was abused by ‘Ndrangheta soldiers, would you go after each one of them?”

“Where are you going with this?” I asked through gritted teeth, not liking what she’d just said one bit.

“That you wouldn’t do anything for me, only for yourself!” Angela crossed her arms, lifting her chin as if she’d just won a battle. “You don’t care about what he did or didn’t do to me, only about the possibility of Filippo saying he kissed your woman, that he touched her before you did! But if you think about it, you can’t do anything about it. I’m his.” Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth, and she raised her hand, showing the engagement ring from that bastard. “You can’t blame him for touching what was his. In fact, in this game, you’re the one in the wrong. You stole me from him, sat me on your lap, brought me to your house, put your mouth on my legs, and kissed me.”

She was playing, clearly testing me to see if I’d let her go. If I truly claimed to be better than Filippo and her father, I couldn’t keep her here against her will, and she was saying in every word that she belonged to him.

I couldn’t deny she was clever, a little she-devil. That’s what I should call her, because that angelic air was just on the surface.

“Do you want to be his, angel? Are you declaring you belong to the man who threw you to the ground while you were being attacked? Do you want to spend the rest of your life with the worm who didn’t protect you, not even on your wedding day?”

Her smug smile faded with my questions, and a heavy sigh left her chest. We were playing dirty with each other—me with her desire to be free, and her with my need to have her by my side.

“No. I want to belong to myself!” Angela declared, standing up. “When are you going to teach me to shoot?”

“Tomorrow. Now let’s get you to your room so you can take a bath and rest.” I extended my hand toward her, and her gaze wavered for a moment. “Accepting what I’m offering isn’t accepting to be mine, angel. I’ll prove to you that you were made to be mine, remember?”

She slid her hand into mine, but I bent down and scooped her up, lifting her easily and drawing a surprised gasp from her.

“What are you doing? You can’t just carry me around like this!” she protested as I left the office with her in my arms.

“I think it’s you who can’t walk around with that sprained ankle. Which reminds me, I need to call the doctor to check on you.”

“No need! I’m fine. It’s nothing a little ice won’t fix…” Angela kept complaining as we climbed the stairs to the second floor, but we ran into my sister and Frank.

“Oh, good to see you two. I left some clothes in the room next to yours, assuming she’d stay there,” Melissa said excitedly. “Dr. Hans is on his way; he shouldn’t take long to arrive, and Dona Giovana will bring up something for your lunch. You must be starving!”

“Thank you, but… you didn’t have to.”

“Of course we did, dear. You can’t walk around in that tattered dress and go hungry for the rest of the day,” she said, giving Angela’s hand a pat before walking away. “I’ll let my brother take care of you. You’re in good hands. Call me if you need anything!”

She grabbed Frank’s arm, and they turned, heading back downstairs. My sister was thrilled about this marriage idea—she always wanted a sister—but I doubted she’d get someone for shopping and frivolities. Angela didn’t seem interested in that.

I walked to the end of the hallway where our rooms were, her eyes seemingly focused on the walls lined with portraits of my ancestors and their families.

“This is your room, at least until you decide to move to mine.” Angela turned her face, and our eyes met. “That’s my room, in case you want to know.”

She kept her brown eyes locked on mine, ignoring my room. I opened the door and stepped into what would be hers, at least for a little while, I was sure.

I carried Angel straight to the bathroom. The woman in my arms didn’t seem to care about her surroundings, her focus entirely on me. Then her hand rose, and she touched a specific spot on my forehead. I clenched my jaw, but Angela seemed oblivious to my reaction, her fingers tracing the scar that ran from my hairline to my left eyebrow, making me close my eyes at the gentle caress.

“How did you get this scar?” That question brought all my darkness to the surface. My heart raced, and my blood boiled with rage.

I couldn’t tell her that, not if I wanted her to stay by my side. So I set her down as quickly as possible and left the room at the same speed as the memories flooding my mind.