XIII | Angel of Death

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I STOP BREATHING.
Where is the Angel?
In my mind, I pictured the leader of the Falcone Mafia as a tall, dark man with black hair slicked back and tattoos creeping up his neck. He-the Angel-can't be her, can't be Violetta.
"What are you doing here?" I whisper. Motionless. Unwilling to move, to believe.
Violetta, the Angel, stares at me with those piercing honey eyes. That warm, wicked grin, that sharp cut of her gaze-the confidence. The swagger.
I remember her calm, always. When we first met, there was a gun on her nightstand. She disabled it in ten seconds flat, even while I was pointing it at her. And the cash, the loose euros everywhere . . . arrogance. Sheer arrogance.
It made sense. Too much sense.
But this woman, who had watched me undress with burning eyes, who had taken my hand, who had driven me on her motorcycle-it couldn't be. It couldn't.
"What are you doing here?" I repeat. What I want to hear is, I'm a prisoner like you. Or, The Angel will be here soon. Or anything, anything that means she isn't the ruthless, merciless leader of a gang.
"I saw what you did to Dominic," she begins. Her black hair is pulled into a soft twist. She is wearing a close-cut black suit, and the neckline plunged deep towards her ribs. I can see the smooth skin between her breasts.
"I did what I had to," I say stiffly.
But instead she laughs. She pulls one of the two chairs in the room to the middle and sits in it. Her legs are spread wide. Dominant.
"He had what was coming," she says. Her lashes are long enough to brush against her cheekbones, and I notice then that she wears no makeup. Not even the red lipstick I've always seen her with.
"Your boyfriend will be furious at me when he wakes up, though."
Why did I say that? Why did I mention her boyfriend?
I don't care. I don't want to know. It's not important to me, whether Dominic holds a grudge against me. Whether he's her boyfriend or not.
But as I stand, gripping the back of my chair, I can't help but hold on to her words as she says, "Dominic? He's not my boyfriend."
I press on, "Are you the Angel?"
I can't help but ask for confirmation. I already know it's true, but when she nods, I feel my heart sink in my chest. Even if she isn't dating Dominic, she's still the heartless leader of a mob. I can never be with her, never even think of it.
Anger fuels me. "Why am I here? Why did you take me? I thought we had a deal. Fifty percent and we would be done. What is it . . ." Tears threaten, but I hold tight to that fury. It is all that's keeping me from dissolving. "What is it that you want with me?"
Angel-Violetta-keeps a stony mask. But for a moment, it looks like real pain flickers across her face.
"You will get your fifty percent cut," she says. "I just need more from you. That's why I brought you here."
"No," I spit at her, and take a step back. "You kidnapped me. And if you had asked . . . You could have asked."
"Cade," she says. Soft. I feel like I'm drowning in those honey eyes.
I step back again. "Don't," I say, tears heavy on my lashes. "Just-don't. I have a life, too, you know. My roommate, my school, a tuition I'm paying for. I can't just leave. You can't just take me. I'm not something to be taken!"
I can't help the way my voice lifts into a shout. "And how can you be the Angel? I thought . . ."
Violetta's eyes darken. "You thought I was a man."
The heartless, cold leader of the Falcones. The last one alive. Out for revenge, thirsty for blood.
Yes, I thought you were a man.
I continue on, hot, furious. "We slept in the same bed. I rode your motorcycle. I helped you steal from the museum, twice. How could you?"
I slam the chair into the wall. Move closer to her. I don't know what I want-to confront her, to have her care.
But her eyes are hard with their own fire as I say, "You really are just a cold, empty-"
In one swift movement, she stands up from the chair. Her hand, covered in a multitude of thick rings, is on my throat. Cold.
My breathing slows in shock.
For a moment, her eyes are roiling with emotion. But they shutter. All I can do is look at her face, locked in a tense stare.
I notice the tattoos on her knuckles, twirling up from her wrist. Beautiful. Art.
"I'm not," she says, breathing hard. Then she lets go of me as though burned by my skin.
I stumble back, feeling the phantom touch on my neck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, but . . . I look away.
"The paintings from the museum are worth a lot, but not enough for what I need. You know everything about art, about history, and that knowledge is the kind of thing I can't buy. That's why I need you. I have to find the Crown Jewels that went missing in England almost a hundred years ago. They're worth over half a billion dollars. We need to steal them back from whoever stole them first, and if it's not you who can find them, nobody can. This is why I need you, Cadenza."
Violetta's voice turns pleading. As though she isn't the one who ordered me kidnapped, as though she isn't the one who set me up in a trap, who lied about who she was.
I open my mouth, to scream, to insult her, to tell her to fuck herself, but all I can say is, "What makes you think I can find them?"
Violetta's eyes are soft, liquid. Her mouth curves, and her lips look lush. I want to meld them to mine, to explore them.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
"I know you can, Cade," she breathes. "If anyone can, it's you."
I don't know to feel. The faith she has in me, in my abilities, is astonishing. Unbelievable.
Especially with Nathan's voice in my ear. You'll never be anything. You'll never be worth anything. What's the point of trying?
It's a reminder of why I need to do this. I need the fifty percent cut. I need to be free of Nathan, once and for all.
"But . . . University. Friends. My family. I can't just leave it all behind," I say.
Violetta looks apologetic. "You can contact them before we leave, but you won't be able to access them once we're gone. We need absolute secrecy, no way for anyone to trace us."
Leave? This is news to me. But I shake my head. "University. I can't just leave. They won't have me if I disappear."
Violetta's mouth curls into a slow, delicious smile. "We have connections, Cade. Your tuition is paid for . . . all four years. And they're ready to welcome you back after any absence of leave. No matter how long it takes."
The thought scares me. How long will this take? But it's not enough to let me say no, because I know that if I don't do this now, Nathan will be chasing me forever. A lifetime of fear, of being the one hunted.
"What do you say?" Violetta asks. She looks nervous, but how can that be? I don't have a choice, not truly. If I said no . . . . Would she let me leave? Would she leave me free? The thought makes my hands shake. I think I know the answer already.
I shake my head. But I do need this.
Before I even know what I'm doing, I nod my head.
Agreeing.

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