Angel's Mafia (gxg) ✓

XXXVI | Worth

DOMINIC LOOKS GUILTY. AND WHEN I SAY guilty, I mean guilty.

Pacing around the Falcone mansion, sweat growing on his neck, his forearms, he mutters to himself and glances out the window. It's him and I alone. Maria, Angel, and a few other Mafia members are upstairs, talking about some kind of restaurant and business claim.

I'm waiting to tell Angel what I found.

I know where the Jewels are.

But it's not the right time, and besides, what's the rush? We always have tomorrow. Today . . . today was eventful.

Except Dominic is stressing the hell out of me.

Finally, I snap. "What are you worried about?"

Dominic looks up, as though he's just realized I'm there. I notice he looks more tired than usual; his stubble is scruffy, his eyes are hollowed. For a moment, sympathy leaks into me. Even if he told me once to leave and never come back, I think maybe we're okay now. At least he doesn't hate me. And I don't hate him.

"None of your business," he scowls.

Well, I don't hate him that much.

"It's my business when you're annoying the shit out of me, pacing back and forth like that!"

"Look, I'm just tired, alright?"

"Then sit down!"

It's at that moment when Angel appears at the end of the hallway, a faint smile on her mouth, like we share a secret.

She's dressed in a sharp-cut black pantsuit, with red lapels and high heels.

I want to fuck her, right there.

"Hey," I say hesitantly.

I've felt out of it lately, for these past few hours. Not only have I seen three people die in the past few days, but now I've been arrested too. It's hard to stay tethered in reality when all of this feels so surreal.

"Hey," Angel says, her face lighting up like a sunrise.

"Can we talk?" I ask. For a moment, her face shows concern, but then that mask slips down and her expressions are once more concealed in stone. I know that ever since her family died, she has had to use isolation to protect herself, but it still hurts sometimes. Maybe she's not comfortable with me enough to show me her feelings.

"Of course," Angel says, and she shows up through a flight of stairs.

I remember the first time I realized she was the don of the Falcones. That was when I knew her as "Violetta." Things were different then. It feels like a lifetime, but really, this entire adventure has only been . . . what is it? Exactly two weeks. Three weeks since I met her.

At the same time, I feel like I've always known Angel. Like I've always loved her.

Although I realized it the moment I shot at Dante for her, it hits me now. Fully. The entirety of this meaning; the fact that I love a Mafia boss, the fact that I was ready to kill for her. I've never felt this way before, and it's like . . . it's like a high.

I can almost―almost―understand my mother's addiction.

"What did you want to tell me?" Angel says, closing the door to what must be her room.