Angel (Made Men 5)

It was a simple kiss, almost innocent, yet it had a roughness to it that shook her to her core. It was like true, utter, sweet bliss; the kind you didn’t know existed until you were frightened to death of it ending. It was a feeling she shouldn’t be having with a man like Angel and with a kiss like that, which made it the most intimate and beautifully breathtaking thing she had ever experienced.

One that would be impossible to ever forget because it was …

Simply perfection.

Pulling his lips away from hers, he held her right where he wanted her, keeping a firm hold on her chin, not letting her drop from her toes just yet. There was one last thing he had to say.

“You may have just saved your own life, sweetness, or you may have just cost it.” With that, a hazy Adalyn was released.

She watched him walk away, her mind slowly coming back online. She didn’t know if he meant taking the ring had saved or cost her her life, or …

If it had been that kiss.

Shit.

That wasn’t what he had planned—to kiss her like that—but she had been so pliable, so submissive underneath him. How she craved a man without morals, one who was evil, corrupt, a man … like him.

Never before had he met anything like her. Someone who wanted those qualities in a man yet was the complete opposite herself. Adalyn was pure and fun, but inside, she had a side to her that was desperate to get out. A side that he was capable of bringing out. A side that he had never experienced before because the women he had dealt with were either evil on the outside or too good on the inside.

He could be his true self with her, but it was a commodity that would only come with a high price tag.

There were certain things Luciano men were never supposed to do, a list of rules to live and die by, and kissing her, a Caruso, was on the “do not do” list. One thing was for sure now …

There will be hell to pay.

Fifteen

Force of A Thousand Bullets

One … Two … Three … Four … Angel didn’t know how long it had been since the closet door had been closed.

Five … Six … Seven … Eight … All he knew was that he was hungry, thirsty, and in pain.

Nine … Ten … Eleven … Twelve … And even though it was pitch-black in there, he felt like the already tiny space had somehow grown smaller and smaller with each passing hour.

Thirteen … Fourteen … Fifteen … It was almost like a game to see who would crack …

Crack.

… first. To see who would break …

Break…

…Before Angel could even awaken enough and move from his bed, one of the masked men was dragging him out of it. The noises he had been hearing was his door being busted in, but his nightmare had been just too strong to be drawn out of it. By this time, it was just too late …

Three men wearing black ski masks were all he could see before he put his arms up to protect his face.

Lying there on the floor of his hotel room, he took the beating of a lifetime.

The obscenities that were thrown around were ones he had heard since birth.

“You fucking piece of shit.”

“All you Lucianos are the same.”

“Lazy motherfuckers.”

“Nasty, tatted bitch.”

All words that he had heard repeatedly, words that had been etched on his skin like the tattoos that had been imprinted on his body. Except they went deeper than his tats. They scratched scars into his soul.

There almost wasn’t one part of his body that hadn’t been hit by the time the masked men stopped to catch their breath. A normal person would have passed out from the pain, but it only made him feel more alive.

“We should have killed every last one of you with your sick fuck of a father.”

Angel began to laugh madly through the pain of his injuries as he stared up at the man who had been the most vocal. Remembering that voice, he knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Do you really think you’re hiding from me with that mask? Why don’t you fucking take it off and face me like a man!” He spat on the ground, blood hitting the man’s shoes.

Taking off the mask revealed an intense Joey, who gave him a promise of a lifetime. “I’m going to kill you one day. I’m going to kill every last one of you until the Luciano name doesn’t exist.”

Any gray in Angel’s eyes vanished to the black orbs that now pierced Joey with a force of a thousand bullets that dared him to keep his promise. “We can’t fucking wait.”

Hearing a noise, Joey slid his mask back on before he and another masked figure headed for the door. The last one, who seemed to be the biggest assailant, stayed back a moment longer to tell the battered Angel one thing.