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Todos los capítulos de The Angel's Sin: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

46 Capítulos

Twenty

Tony laid Angel down gently.Clothed with only a white dress shirt and covered with red silk sheets.It was now close to three in the morning.‘He’s light for someone so tall.. maybe too light. Has he gotten thinner?’How could that be?‘Are these assholes not treating you right?’His jaw clenched.Then he stared at Angel’s sleeping profile.‘He’s so beautiful. Too beautiful.’Something tightened in his chest as he stared at him with wonder.He sat down on the bed and held Angel’s hands.He lifted it up and kissed it.Smelled it.Felt his warm hand against his cheek.He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside him—wrap him up in his arms and stay there.Or better yet, make love to him until morning.But he wasn't that cruel.Not when Angel was sleeping this soundly.‘No. I’m actually a cruel bastard. But I found out.. that when it comes to Angel….’He fucking cared.Too much.Even he himself was surprised by the protective instinct that comes out naturally.He breathed in.An

Twenty One

Earlier..Don Leon’s POVIt was 9:40 pm on the clock.Don Leon sat quietly in his study room, behind his massive desk—sipping his vodka.It was windy.He could smell Lake Como—Lario—an ancient glacial lake of Lombardy.Its chill mingled with the earthy, fruity scent of a half-burned Cuban cigar—resting in the ashtray.The thick smoke coming from it was immediately suppressed like a mirage.Together with the sharp clarity of his scentless vodka—filled the room.A crystal bottle sat uncapped on the mahogany table.Half drunk.Forgotten.Outside, the wind rattled the pines along the estate wall.He could hear it.Loud.But it did nothing to distract him.The past still came knocking quietly on the windows of his mind.His gaze shifted to the quiet Leandro, seated in the middle of the room across from the Don—on the brown leather couch.Quietly signing some documents.The same couch Antonio, his grandson, occupied just the night before.Don Leon’s mind replayed Antonio’s words before he l

Twenty Two

Don Federico Luchese’s POVThe click-clack of ivory tiles was the only sound that dared pierce the suffocating silence.Don Federico couldn't hear the music and laughter from the dinner party on the fourth floor.It’s where he had been earlier that evening—before everything turned into a shitshow.Irritation was clearly written in his sharp, pale brown eyes.His thin jaw was clamped tight.The old lines on his face deepened.He should’ve been touching soft, milky flesh right now—not ivory tile!If it hadn't been for Leandro’s call earlier..‘That damned call!’Interrupting his speech in the grand room—Ruining his scheduled meeting with his important clients—And worst of all, cutting short the unwrapping of his gift!He gritted his teeth.Seething.They’d asked him—HIM—to set up a mahjong table, like he was some hotel clerk.As if the Luchese were at Santa De Leones’ beck and call.And Federico, like an old fool, had actually arranged one.Leaving his own party and his guest!‘It’s be

Twenty Three

The hotel—fucking—Valgrande.Straight out of a goddamn billionaire’s catalog.All polished stone and darkwood.Clean lines and soft lighting.It pretends to be peaceful.But it's crawling with the mafia—and rich, sick, twisted people who do deprived things in their spare time.Like illegal hobbies.And some acts or things that can be considered as criminal.Like orgies, arms dealings, drugs and murder.Six stories high, it was tucked into the quiet streets of Domodossola—like it didn't have secrets bleeding from its walls.The kind of place that whispered money.Not power.And that made it more dangerous.‘You can fucking buy anything and anyone with money.’The CIA wouldn't make it past the gate without a bullet snapping at their heels.And if they managed to get inside?They’ll disappear like magic.It’s like these people have built-in CIA undercover detectors.No body.No nothing.Just gone.Without a trace.Tony only managed to get inside because he knew how to blend in.He knew h

Twenty Four

Bernardo’s POVIn a five star restaurant in the same area around Hotel Valgrande…The clink of a wine glass against the table broke the stillness.Dinner had come and gone.Plates cleared.Guests departed.But neither Bernardo nor his eldest daughter moved—nor talked.The lighting was dimmed around them.No waiters.No staff hanging about.Only the ghost of truffle oil and aged balsamic—a luxury clinging to the air like a secret.Like this undisclosed meeting.Bernardo swirled the last of his Barolo.Rei di vini—the king of wines.Fitting.For he will be king in a few minutes.A sardonic smile graced his lips.But his gaze was distant.His mind was on a certain hotel near where he was.Across from him sat Beth.The daughter that was born from a business trip in America—before his marriage with Alessandro’s mother.Before his burning ambitions turned ruthless.One of many.But the only one that he can use.A CIA agent.Useful.A specter of a past he never acknowledged.She’s quietly si

Twenty Five

Silence remained.It was deafening.“Urgh..”Then a groan.Tony scanned the surroundings as best as he could in his position.Silver eyes sharp and narrowing.Eyes went to the place where the bullets had come from—above the building across the streets.But he couldn't see beyond the pierced, shattered wall glass.‘They’ve become frosted from the cracks. What kind of fucking glass is it? Reinforced?’But he was thankful for that.Add the fact that there are high awnings and big umbrellas scattered outside the front entrance.It stretched up to the long and wide open courtyard of the hotel.And it ended before the open parking lot with tall high gates, cutting the streets.Alvaro was still under him—trembling like a leaf.Tony immediately pulled him in an angle where they couldn't be seen from above, taking with them a leg of a table, making it topple.Using it a shield.Hiding behind it.Out of the sniper’s visuals.‘Thank God for the useless decor.’In between the front wall glass ent

Twenty Six

‘Half brother? What kind of fuckery is this?’Tony’s face twisted in disbelief.It was written all over his expressions.But then again, this family was never normal to begin with.So.. it kinda makes sense. Or not.Don Leon coughed again.Choking on blood.Tony winced.He didn't want the Don to speak anymore.‘If it's Bernardo then it's Bernardo’s handiwork, and if he was actually the old man’s brother, then, he’s my grand uncle.’The hows and whys didn't matter anymore.Tony closed his eyes and buried the old memories that resurfaced.Like how he had always done.Then he opened his eyes and furrowed his brows.A storm brewed in his eyes.Bernardo had crossed the line.And that was that.‘He tried to kill the old lion. Even my father, Alvaro and.. me.’He forgot all about Don Federico.‘And that’s a great sin in itself—even if you’re family.’Tony’s jaw clenched.Remembering his betrayal before he ran away.‘Although I did the same in the past. Who’s calling the kettle black now?’T

Twenty Seven

“Now then.. go out with me..”The entire space inside the ruined restaurant of hotel Valgrande, stilled.Even the air seemed to hesitate.Tony’s voice wasn't even that loud.But somehow, the wind carried it, slicing clean through the blood, the bullets, shattered glass, debris and confusion.Angel could only blink, as did everyone else inside the restaurant..If only the earth could open and swallow him whole—Angel would gladly go down without a damn fight.‘This guy has nerves of steel! This bastard!’The silence, coupled with the stunned, almost comical expressions of the two witnesses, made Angel even more tongue tied and mortified.“W-wha..what?” Angel whispered.His face bloomed red, a furious red, like vivid roses.His fingers curled into the hem of his white dress shirt.It suddenly felt a thousand times too thin.Too short.Too transparent.Tony grinned, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d unleashed.Unbothered by the soft gasps and wide eyed stares, he leaned forward with a voice

Twenty Eight

Tony’s eyes narrowed at the dark-skinned woman standing a few steps behind Bernardo.Dressed in a beige office suit—a stark contrast from the red dress she wore before.Her face was blank.Emotionless.As if none of this had anything to do with her.‘Beth.’‘I fucking knew it.’His grip on Angel tightened.They were still sitting on the floor.‘I knew something was off about her.’His mind snapped back to a month ago—Beth’s convenient explanations.And the way she acted.It was all over the top—like she was reciting her prepared lines.‘Is Nick in this too?’Remembering Nick calling him about a higher up in the CIA that wanted to talk to him in Piazza Navona.Tony was more bitter at the thought of Nick—his superior—being one of them.Nick, who always invited him over for thanksgiving.The only one that Tony could call his friend.But then—Bernardo stepped forward, cutting into Tony’s line of sight like a curtain of arrogance.Beth disappeared behind him—not out of protection, but beca

Twenty Nine

“Is he still alive?”Calm.Composed.Maria Santa De Leones.A socialite.The cold witch.Don Leon’s daughter-in-law.Her life now was defined by lavish parties.Custom-made jewelry.The sleek, expensive lines of her personal Bentley.Not from her husband’s pocket—but her own.She even bought Alvaro a new car recently.One that now sits, riddled with bullet holes in this very Hotel Valgrande parking lot.‘I’ll buy him a new one,’ she thought.But once—She’s known as ‘the wild heiress’.A princess from a small mafia family that no one took seriously.Not big enough to threaten.Not loud enough to remember.But they were loyal.To a fault.Their business?Heavy duty weapons.Missiles.RPGs.Anti-aircraft.Tanks.And their clients?Not street gangs.Not thugs.They catered to Russians.Arabs.Ukrainians.Military grade.Top shelf.Clean hands.It was something that Bernardo overlooked.Underestimated.Because ever since she married the soft spoken Leandro—She went quiet.Tamed.Or so it

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