Little Angel

Chapter:38

Vivian Flammery.
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"No, mamma, I am full." I whimpered like a child when Gabriel's mother pushed one more spoonful of soup into my mouth.

She sighed and gave me a disapproving look. "You lost a lot of weight. So you have to eat. Now open up, or I will tie you to your bed and force-feed you; either way is fine with me." She said it sternly, and I sighed, nodding and opening my mouth again as she gave me another bite.

Angus, Gabriel's father, who was sitting on the couch in the corner reading the newspaper, chuckled when his wife threatened me and hid behind the paper when I glared toward him.

Daring him to laugh again.

Two days. I had been unconscious for two days after the attack, and I woke up three days ago. Since I woke up, people have come to visit me, even people I don't know—staff members from the mansion, men that work in warehouses, and the bodyguards around the house whom I have lunch with. All of them come with a bouquet of flowers in their hands. It's cute to see big men look nervous and shy as they pass me the flowers.

I have been receiving bouquets, get-well soon cards, and even gifts from people that I never even met because apparently I was on the news. Gabriel somehow proved that the car I was in had a brake failure, and the car went down the embankment, causing a life threatening accident. So people from his legal side of business are sending me gifts since I am his girlfriend.

Currently, I was sitting on the bed, propped up with pillows, while Gabriel’s mother forced-fed me. My head pounded if I didn't take painkillers on time, and my body felt like it was made of lead. This attack had shaken me to my core. I had never felt so vulnerable before.

I am still weak, and my body is a patchwork of aches and bruises. But I was alive, and at the end of the day, that was what mattered the most.

The soup was warm and comforting, and the familiar aroma was a balm to my frayed nerves. The hospital food is worse, even though I didn't eat much, but the few bites that I had killed the little appetite I had.

When Gabriel's mother saw how little I was eating, she took it upon herself to feed me homemade food or soup, since that was all I was allowed to eat.

Gabriel's mother, a woman who exuded a quiet strength that could make even the toughest men tremble, continued to feed me, her eyes filled with concern and affection.

She pulled away the spoon, her gaze scrutinizing my face. "You need to eat, my child. You are like a little bird, so thin and fragile."

A wry smile touched my lips. "I am not a bird, mamma. I am a wolf; I kill five men, remember?" I joke and gesture with my hand like I have claws. I am still surprised when I remember the people whose lives I took. At first, I blamed myself and even hated myself, but now I have no regrets. It's either their life or mine.

Of course, Gabriel was the one giving me all the reasons I shouldn't be worried about it because they are all criminals, and I had done humanity a favor by ending their lives. But still, I couldn't shake the feeling away.

Wherever the guilt tries to consume me, I remind myself that it is a kill or be killed situation, and I have done what I can to protect myself.

She chuckled, a sound that was both gruff and affectionate. "A wolf with a delicate stomach, it seems." She teases me.

I am already feeling tired after eating three or four spoons full of soup.

I try to push her hand away, and she looks at me, and her face softens. She put the spoon back in the bowl.

"Are you sure you don't want more?" she asked, her voice softer than usual. I shook my head, unable to force down another bite. She placed the almost empty bowl on the bedside table, her hand lingering on mine for a moment before gently retracting it.