Page 9 of Stolen By the Devil

I sighed, retreating back to my room. How was I going to fix this? These children needed so much more than a nanny. They needed stability, guidance, and love. They needed someone who could balance discipline with compassion. Could I be that person?

I lay down on my bed, my mind racing. Thoughts of my mother filled my head. Was she okay? Did Drago keep his word?

As I drifted into a restless sleep, I felt a strange warmth wrap around me, a sense of otherworldly light. In my dream, I saw myself as a child, my mother whispering to me that I wasborn of an angel. That I had been sent to this earth for a purpose. I awoke with a jolt, the truth of it settling deep in my bones.

This was my purpose. These children had become my responsibility, and I would not fail them. Drago, with his dark and fiery presence, wasn’t the only one with power here. I had my own fire—an angelic fire—and it was time I wielded it.

But even as I resolved to fulfill this mission, my thoughts drifted to Drago. There was something dangerous about him, something that called to me in a way I didn’t understand. His fire, his darkness—it was like nothing I’d ever felt before. He was demonic, I was sure of it, and yet…

I shivered, feeling a strange pull deep in my core. I was innocent, untouched by desire. And yet, as I thought of Drago, I felt something stir inside me. A hunger I didn’t recognize. His presence filled me with both fear and longing. The thought of his touch, of the heat that radiated from him, sent my mind spinning in directions I’d never allowed before. My heart raced as I thought of him, my body warming in a way that made me uneasy. But I couldn’t stop the thoughts from coming—visions of his powerful hands, of the way he commanded every room he entered, filled me with an excitement I didn’t understand. His darkness was calling to something inside me, and no matter how much I tried to push it away, it lingered, and I found myself craving more.

I prayed for another vision to guide me, to show me what to do, but this time, there was only silence. No angelic whispers, no divine intervention. I couldn’t help but wonder: was this attraction part of a divine test? Was my soul already falling prey to temptation?

As I lay there, my body trembling with the weight of emotions I didn’t know how to handle, I couldn’t help but wonder: was I strong enough to resist The Devil?

Chapter Four

Drago

It had been a week since Angel had arrived, and despite my best efforts to stay focused on business, she had infiltrated my thoughts in ways I never expected. I tried to ignore it, bury myself in work, drown in the ruthlessness that had built my empire. I spent my days as usual—forging relationships with those who would be useful to me, carrying out deals, and swiftly taking care of unfortunate matters—but no matter how much I immersed myself in the cold calculations that power demanded,she lingered in the back of my mind like a soft flame that refused to be extinguished.

This wasn’t like me. I had never allowed anyone to take up residence in my thoughts. Not even my late wife had ever affected me like this. But Angel…she was different. She wasn’t just beautiful—there was something about her that was beyond the physical. A quiet strength, a softness that made me wonder if perhaps I had underestimated her.

I spent the morning in meetings, overseeing my operations, enforcing deals, and ensuring that everything ran smoothly. My associates feared me, respected me. I could see it in their eyes every time I walked into a room. But despite the power I wielded for my enjoyment, there was a part of me that still found my mind wandering, drifting back to that quiet woman with her pale hair and blue eyes, the way she had stood her ground and owned her sphere despite her circumstance as my captive.

By the time the afternoon rolled around, I was restless. I dismissed my men earlier than usual, feeling an unfamiliar pull toward home. That’s when I realized it had been days since I’d seen the children or checked in on how Angel was managing them. I suspected she was doing fine since I’d heard no complaints from the staff, no reports of trouble. But something in me wanted to see it for myself.

The house was quiet when I arrived, the soft murmur of voices and the clinking of dishes leading me toward the dining room. I stopped at the doorway, watching the scene unfold before me. Angel sat at the table with Liliana and Marco, helping Marco cut his food as she spoke softly to them. It was a rare sight—one I hadn’t realized I missed. The children, for once, weren’t bickering or tormenting anyone. They seemed…content.

But as soon as I entered the room, the atmosphere shifted. The children stiffened, their small bodies tensing with an instinctual fear that had been ingrained in them from years of my presence. I couldn’t blame them. They had seen enough of my anger, my impatience, to know better than to relax around me. Yet, Angel remained calm, her gentle smile faltering only briefly as she glanced in my direction.

“Papa,” Liliana said quietly, her voice a shadow of what it had been moments ago. Marco followed suit, his hands clenching his fork.

I watched them for a moment, then surprised myself by pulling out a chair and sitting down with them. This wasn’t something I usually did. Family dinners had never been on my radar. But tonight, something was different.

“Shall I bring you a plate, Mr. Barone?” asked Rosa, my cook, who had come in from the kitchen with a basket of hot rolls.

“Yes, thank you,” I said, nodding as she set the basket on the table within arm’s reach. After she retreated, I turned towards the children.

"How’s school going?" I asked.

Liliana was the first to speak, her voice measured and careful. "It’s fine, Papa," she said, casting a sideways glance at Angel, her eyes daring her to say otherwise.

Angel didn’t hesitate. Her blue eyes met mine, and there was no fear in them, only quiet determination. "It’s not fine," she said softly but firmly. "The tutor, Miss Gustino, isn’t doing her job. The children are behind in almost every subject, and if they don’t get proper help soon, they’ll fall back even further."

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. Most nannies wouldn’t dare criticize anything in my household, let alone theeducation I provided for my children. But Angel wasn’t most nannies. She wasn’t afraid to speak up, even in front of the children. “Is that so?” I asked, more curious than accusatory.

She didn’t flinch. "The children deserve better. They deserve someone who cares about their future. If Miss Gustino is not equipped, we need to hire someone new—or I can take over their lessons myself."

I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised by her offer. "You want to tutor them? Tell me, why should I choose you?"

She held my gaze, unwavering. "Because they will need a proper education to continue your legacy. They both have a great deal of potential, but without being held accountable, they cannot learn how to hone their strengths or use them wisely. They require someone who is strong enough and patient enough to help them grow. And that person is me."

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, I was taken aback by the conviction in her voice. She wasn’t saying this out of obligation or for praise—she genuinely cared about the children’s well-being. It was rare to see that kind of devotion, especially from someone I had essentially forced into this role.

Liliana’s expression darkened, and I noticed something strange. Her eyes flickered red for a brief second, like the demonic fire that sometimes ran through my own veins, a heritage passed down from my cursed bloodline. I tensed, recognizing the signs. She had inherited it—the dark influence, the power that pulsed through our family. The same fire that burned within me was beginning to show itself in her.

Before I could process it, Marco grabbed a bread roll from the basket and hurled it at Angel, a small act of defiance that I might have overlooked on a normal day. But today, it struck me differently.

---