All Chapters of The Angel's Sin: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Angel’s POV‘How did it come to this?’Just yesterday..‘Or had it only been yesterday?’He’d been lying in a hotel bed, dreading his fate.Imagining himself being handed over like a welcome basket to the perverted old mafia Don—who was due to return that night.The Don of Luchese—famous for his perversion and his penchant for young men.Angel wanted to hurl.He tried to recount the events that led to this predicament.It started when his parent’s restaurant began to fall apart.Competitions popped up out of nowhere.Bad reviews—one star after another—started appearing like rot under floorboards.Customers stopped coming.Then came the troublemakers.People fighting inside.Vandalism.Sticks, stones and hair found in the newly served soup.Their regulars—disappearing.Their ingredients would go bad in the fridge before they could cook anything.Employees got scouted by newer, shinier places.And when they’d finally decided to close for good.Don Federico Luchese’s people came in—Like

(Continuation of Tony's POV from Chapter 29)The air still reeked of gunpowder and blood.Smoke clung to the walls like a second skin.It curled through the shattered remains of the Hotel Valgrande’s once grand restaurant.The marbled floor was slick with dust, shattered glass, and a crimson streak that hadn't yet dried.Chunks of rubble lay scattered across the floor like broken teeth.Muffled groans intermingled with the urgent shouts of paramedics and the sharp barks of Santa De Leones’ men as they swarmed the almost pulverized scene.The chaos churned, but it was an organized chaos.Controlled.Bernardo and his thugs littered the ground—some unconscious, some shackled and kneeling.And the rest?Dead and mangled.Their threat had been extinguished.Don Leon lay under careful watch, paramedics on either side.His breathing was shallow—but steady.While Franco hovered protectively nearby.Not far off, Alvaro and Maria knelt beside a newly awakened Leandro, whose lashes fluttered wit

The sun had already risen by the time Angel and Tony emerged from the underground parking lot.Right before them, the first to be dragged out was Don Federico Luchese—Bleeding, groaning, cursing and crying Angel’s name like a madman.Behind him, his men, bloodied and defeated, followed in complete silence.Then came Beth.Snarling.“This isn’t over! Santa De Leones! I have connections from above!” she hissed, even as her wrists were cuffed and her shoulder was shot.“Don’t touch me!” she yelled, but no one listened.They pulled her out of sight.And behind her, several CIA agents who had surrendered without a fight.Bernardo and his crew were already gone—likely en route to a brutal end, the first to meet their maker.Mafia style.Their fates were already sealed.Outside the shattered remains of Hotel Valgrande’s restaurant, the grim aftermath of the previous night’s chaos was plainly visible.Curious onlookers, and passersby hovered with phones raised.Snapping pictures—until the pe

The kiss was fast.Brutal.Lips crashing like two grown-up strangers who knew better—but didn't care.The bottle of wine that the man was offering Angel hit the floor with a dull thud.It didn’t shatter.Neither did they.Instead, the contents spilled.The aroma of wine filled the air, it made him feel drunk.And somewhere in that chaos, their teeth clashed—hard, uncoordinated, desperate.Then Angel tasted blood.Salty.Coppery.‘The stranger’s?’No—his own.His own lips were stinging.Didn't matter.They kissed like they were starving.Clothes came off in frantic pulls.Shirts peeled.Skin exposed.All the while not breaking the kiss.If you could still call it that.Angel’s body felt hot.Like he had caught a fever.Cool afternoon air hit his bare torso, chasing goosebumps down his arms.The tiny hairs on his body stood on end.His back touched the soft cold bed…‘Wait—I’m already lying down? When the hell did that even happen?’One thing was for sure, the stranger was a veteran!At

(Almost Two Months After The Epilogue)Angel’s POVPietrapaola, A quiet inland village in Calabria, ItalyThe wind smelled like lemon trees and old dust, tangled with the warm summer air.It was a quiet night.Too peaceful.Tony stood on the narrow balcony.Shirtless.Wearing jeans.Barefoot.His slightly longer dark hair danced in the small breeze—like some goddamn hot statue brought to life.A cigarette burned low between his fingers.Its tiny embers flew like sparklers—a type of fireworks.Angel clicked his tongue at the sight.‘That’s his tenth today.’ He imagined scolding him like this—‘...You don’t love your lungs, clearly!’—but he stopped himself.Not liking how that sounded like they were an ordinary couple.‘I think he’ll only like it and will only tease me with it,’ he scowled.‘Then it will end with me staying in bed worn out and useless for days.’And Angel hated being useless.Hated being defenseless.Hated letting Tony do all sorts of things on his body.He blushed at t