** Currently in the progress of being rewritten :)**
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Angel Romano was known for his ruthless ways.
They said he was a supposed duplicate of his father, but only to be worse.
He was known for his cold exterior, his heartless heart. But most import...
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Angel ✧
Daisy's breaths settled into a soothing rhythm as she slept soundly.
I sighed quietly as I realised I'd have to leave her.
My father was insistent about not wanting me to be near her. He was well aware of what she was doing to me; it wasn't so much that she was changing me as it was that my thoughts had become preoccupied with keeping her safe 24/7.
When it came to protecting her, I didn't give a damn about the Mafia, my family, or my friends; she was the only thing on my mind.
I wasn't stupid; I knew I was somewhat falling in love with her.
Never in my lifetime did I imagine myself loving or feeling anything other than rage.
I was known for my anger, and I had to remain away from Daisy when the bomb inside me ticks off.
God knows what I'll do.
I cautiously pulled my arms from her, but this only made her clutch my hand even tighter.
I exhaled contently and took the nearest plush bear in my palm, slowly replacing it.
She snuggled back into it and returned to her usual calm slumber.
I quickly wrapped the blankets around her and walked out of the house.
I looked at my watch and noticed that I had 15 minutes left.
I stepped into my car and started it up.
Before driving away, I placed my gun on the passenger seat and sat back in my seat.
I shut off the engine and grabbed my gun once I arrived at my destination.
I stepped out of the car, ran my hand through my hair, and walked over to the rundown home.
The front doors had been already opened, making my job a lot easier.
My eyes were used to the dark it allowed me to see slightly better as I moved into the pitch-black house.
My movements were heavy and slow, allowing my victim to notice my unexpected arrival.
I chuckled darkly as I took a seat at the kitchen counter after hearing movement from the door to my right.
The property was a disaster. Empty liquor bottles, ashtrays, and smouldering cigars cluttered the floor.
Along with Marijuana bags stacked on the counter next to me.
I rolled my eyes at the waste of money she had spent.
Her footsteps could be heard as they exited the door in front of me.
Her eyes were anxiously searching for me, so I reached over to the wall beside me and turned on the light.
Only a small amount of light was enticing as the light flickered on.
