Page 20 of Wicked Angel

"Angel." Gaven cupped my face, bringing my eyes back up to meet his. I hadn't even realized I'd lowered them. "Tell me the truth."

The truth?I thought bitterly. The truth was that I hadn't wanted this marriage. I didn't want to be any more involved in my mafia family's business than I already was. I was Alice falling down the rabbit hole, desperately trying to claw my way back to the surface.

I shivered in his arms, wincing as the strap of my heel scratched the back of my ankle. He cursed, dropping his finger away from my chin. Gaven's gaze examined me, and after finding the issue, he reached down and slipped a warm finger between my skin and the strap, sliding first the broken shoe off and then the unbroken one.

"Angel—"

"Thank you," I muttered, cutting him off. Gaven's head came up and his eyes focused on my face once more, lips parting in surprise even as his gaze hardened in careful consideration. "I didn't say it, but thank you."

Without him, I might not have been sitting there. Seven years ago, he’d saved me; today, he’d done so again. I might've been bleeding out on the street, and though a part of me hated him for his role in forcing me away from my dreams of normalcy, I had to admit, he wasn't exactly acting the part of a hitman and future mafia boss. His gentle touch and unexpected affection … it was as though he genuinely cared about me. It was silly and childish to think that way, knowing who and what he was, but I couldn’t silence the notion no matter how hard I tried.

Once more, his finger found my chin and lifted my face. He stared at me for several seconds before dipping his head. My heart thundered against my ribcage, threatening to race right out of my chest as he neared. I could smell the scent of mint on his breath. Gaven brushed his full, masculine lips against mine, sparking something inside of me that had been there ever since I'd first laid eyes on him. It was only growing, and if I wasn't careful, it would completely consume me.

Marriage? To him? I was already fucked. Already trapped in this world I'd been born into, but perhaps … just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad if I was trapped in it with him.

His kiss overtook me, his mouth slanting over mine and his tongue delving deep. The world disappeared as I reached up and sank my fingers into the wickedly soft strands of his dirty blond hair. They called me Angel, but he indeed played the part. The savage passion in his kiss speared me. He was a fallen divinity being here to wreak such terrible havoc and all I wanted was for him to destroy me before the terrible things in our world did it first.

Because Iwasscared. Terrified that one day I'd end up just like my mother. Left bleeding alone in a pool of my own blood with no one there to hold me as I left this world. It could've happened today, and maybe that was the reason I caved to my desire to return Gaven Belmonte’s kiss. Maybe I needed this physical connection to bring me back to the real world.

Our story, I realized, hadn’t started that day in my father’s office. It’d begun seven years ago when I’d asked of him the darkest thing a person could ask from another.

I’d asked him to kill for me, so now I had to wonder …had he?

9

ANGEL

They were arguing, my father and Gaven. I'd never heard my father argue with anyone before. He was a commander. He gave orders and his men saw them through. There was no back and forth, no resistance. But Gaven was not like other men. He was my father's equal in every way—in strength, in mannerisms, and in control.

"She could have died," Gaven gritted, his voice lowering until it was almost impossible for me to hear.

“I’m well fucking aware of that!” My father’s tone was brisk and angry, but deeper than that, he was scared. I rarely ever heard the emotion coming from him, but now I did. My heart stuttered in my chest.

“You know what this is—it’s a fucking scare tactic,” Gaven snapped.

“It’s jealousy,” my father replied, his voice even despite the tightness of his clipped words. “It must be because of the wedding.”

“Of course it is,” Gaven growled back. “They don’t like that you’ve chosen me or what this union will mean. Angel damn near—” He cut himself off, but he didn’t need to finish for me to know what he’d been about to say.

Why I was standing out here like this, pressing myself up against the door like a child wanting to know what her parents were getting her for Christmas, I wouldn't have been able to explain. It didn't feel right to barge in, even knowing I was the subject they were discussing. As far as both of them were concerned, I was simply a woman in need of protection. This, though ... this felt necessary. I had to know what they planned to do about what had happened on the street.

Just how close had I come to ending up like my mother? Dead before my time.

A sinister part of my mind reminded me that despite Gaven’s protectiveness, his true anger must have been because his ticket into the Price Family had almost died. Ours was not a match made for love. He’d never mentioned what happened seven years ago. The thought that he didn’t remember me was growing in credibility.

Still, the gravelly way he spoke, the cutoff curses, and the rage burning off of him in waves—even through the door—was enough to make my insides flutter like some schoolgirl without a brain. It made me want to take a knife to my stomach and cut all those feelings out.

"But she didn't," my father replied sharply. "For which, I cannot thank you enough. Angel is…” My father’s voice trailed off. “Very precious to me.” My heart thudded against my ribcage. My father was not an emotional man, so hearing him speak candidly was rare. “I don’t know how I would handle it if I lost her after already losing my wife. I am grateful that you were there to protect her."

"Your guards are not enough," Gaven continued. I winced at that comment, knowing that some of the men in question were in the room with them, likely taking the brunt of Gaven's anger as well as my father's. I'd only just come from the doctor's a few minutes before, so I was sure there was more I'd missed. And I had no doubt that Gaven had laid into them—maybe not physically, not yet anyway—but certainly verbally. "They weren't paying attention. She would've been gunned down in the street and left to bleed out on the fucking pavement had I not been there, Raff."

I swallowed roughly, knowing he was right. Turning and placing my back against the door, I released a breath. Dead. Gunned down in the street. The understanding of just how real that might have been slammed into me.

"I don't need you to remind me what could've happened," my father bit out in response. "I know very well the dangers of this life. Why do you think I selected you to marry one of my daughters? They both need a protector."

A protector,I thought,as if this is the middle-ages and he’s a king bestowing me to some ruling warlord.I shook my head in disbelief. This was ridiculous. And yet, I didn't march in there and say so. No, instead, I remained right where I was, listening in on their conversation. It might have been the lump in my throat that warred with my agitation, knowing my father wanted to protect me instead of tie me here to the family business. Or perhaps it was because, deep down, I felt as though my father wasn't completely in the wrong. I knew next to nothing of the mafia world. Only it was dangerous and it had gotten my mother murdered.

Staying here—marrying Gaven Belmonte—might mean that the exact same thing was bound to happen to me. I’d be taking up space in a casket right next to my mother. I shook my head. I couldn’t let that happen.I wouldn’t.

---