Little Angel

Chapter:50

Vivian Flammery.
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They say love changes you, but I never thought it would push me to the brink of darkness, and what surprised me more is that I have accepted it with open arms and jumped right into it. Without looking back, without any regret.

I never thought I would find myself in a place like this. A year ago, I was just Vivian Flammery, a simple girl who worked in a bakery the whole week and spent her weekends curled up on the couch, sipping herbal tea while watching romantic comedies. I was the type of girl who believed in forgiveness, kindness, and the world being a good place. I wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone enjoy someone getting hurt.

There was once a time when the mere thought of violence would make me shudder, when bloodshed was the stuff of nightmares.

Yet here I am, sitting in one of the rooms in the warehouse. The walls are painted gray, and the floor is made of concrete. My heart was racing with an odd exhilaration as my fiancé was poised over a man who had dared to take me from him: Marko.

Gabriel stood just a few feet away, towering and majestic, his knife glinting under the harsh lights. His dark hair fell over his forehead, and a wicked smile played on his lips, a devilish grin full of promise. Every time he flicked the blade in Marko’s direction, my heart leapt in excitement, and Marko had one new cut to add to his collection. He was in control, and he loved every second of it.

And I love watching him; he looks hot as fuck playing with a knife.

I was sitting in the corner of the room on a chair. There was a table beside me with different bowls filled with different snacks and chocolate and juice in wine glasses—yep, I am getting Queen treatment, not just from Gabriel but from everyone that works in the wearhouse. Marko was back on his joy of being my bodyguard, standing on my right and my new bodyguard on my lift.

Yep, I have two bodyguards now, and when I tried to argue with Gabriel about it, he said the other one was for the baby.

In the middle of the room, Marko stands almost on his toes with his hand chains up over his head. His whole body was covered in blood. Gabriel is standing beside him, holding a knife, and smiling like he is having the time of his life, and the fact that I can't wait to go and join him is the icing on the cake.

Marko. Just the name sent a shiver down my spine, but not out of fear. No, it was anticipation—the kind that set my blood on fire, the kind that wanted me to curve revenge.

I watched as Gabriel, the notorious mafia don in all his glory for the first time, maneuvered with a grace reminiscent of poetry in motion.

Today I realize where the name ruthless, cruel, and sadistic words came from and why people call him the davil.

He is my lover, my protector, and the man who carved out a life for us in shadows and whispers. The chill of the room only amplified the warmth that I felt for him now. The world was painted in shades of gray, but Gabriel was my vibrant burst of color.

A twisted smile crept onto my lips as Gabriel closed in on Marko. His voice was low, almost a purr.

“You see, Marko,” Gabriel purred, his voice as smooth as the blade he held against Marko’s cheek, “you made a mistake. You touched something that belongs to me; you hurt her. And when someone touches what belongs to me, they become... disposable.” Each word dripped with venom, and there was a beautiful dance in his movements, every twist of his wrist a sinister serenade as he made yet another long cut from his collarbone to his chest, and Marko cried in agony like he had been doing for hours.

The crimson blood ran down his body.

Marko, the man who had dared to touch me, the man who had stolen my breath and my freedom, was now a canvas for Gabriel’s artistry. A canvas painted with pain, etched with terror, and bled with the crimson of betrayal.