His Angel of Vengeance
Her eyes were red as she glared at him.
“My husband, Nazzolini, fought for you for ten years, showing his loyalty. Yet, all for a woman, you killed him like he meant nothing.”
Victor’s face twisted in pain, but he didn’t move as the spit slid down his cheek.
He lowered his head and whispered an apology, “I’m sorry–”
Chiara’s hand struck his face hard.
“Sorry? To hell with your sorry!”
Her anger exploded. She slapped him again and again, left and right, without stopping. At my signal, the bodyguards restrained his arms tightly, leaving him no way to dodge. This was what he deserved.
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