Mafia's Angel

ela Montoy

gone. But it still felt like he was right there-a cold feeling in the air, the faint s

g weak, like her bones were tired. But his order-Stay. Don't move. Don't make noise-held her there tighter than any rope. He promised revenge, yes. But thos

. The heavy silence pressed down. The only sounds were her own heart hammering agains

hing different. Rough shouts, sharp orders echoing from the main courtyard outside. The sound of heavy things being

way. These must be other people. The attackers? No, the commands sounded different,

ide, hide! The command wasn't a thought; it was pure instinct flooding her, screaming silently from her very core. Shut your eyes! Don't look! But a small part of her couldn't look away. The part that

at was out there? Inch by painful inch, she crawled towards the edge of the huge table that faced the windows. She stayed flat against the floor. The velvet cloth still hid her. She lifted her head just a tiny bit, peeking through the

words pouring out. Another just stared straight ahead, his eyes wide with shock or maybe because he knew he was doomed. The third man strained against

Around them stood maybe six other figures – men dressed in dark clothes like the young man wore. Their faces were grim, watchi

into her view. The

the dark undershirt now, clinging slightly, defining the lean strength in his arms and torso. Blood still tracked slowly from the cut near his temple, but he ignored it completely, like it wasn't even there. He was

ietly, pointing towards the kneeling attackers. He

d towards them. His boots crunched softly on loose bits of stone. The crying man stopped suddenly, his pleas dying in his throat as the young man g

He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His silence

ness under the table. Just pretend none of this was real. But she couldn't. Couldn't move. C

lmost casual movement. One of his men stepped forward. He pressed something

eling men. He shifted his feet slightly, planting himself firmly.

er felt clear, like she was right there, fixing her scraped knee after she fell off her bike. The memory flashed brightly, hurting-a sudden, sharp sweetness c

ted th

stice. No questions asked. J

A

a jumped hard, slamming her hand against her mouth, choking back the scream tearing at her chest

A

ys instantly, like a doll with it

struggling, let out a choked cry a

A

of death, real and ugly. Three bodies lay still on the sun-warmed stones. His

swirling away into nothing in the warm afternoon air, gone almost before you saw them. A tiny, fleeting sign of the violence just done. His face hadn't changed. No

wn. I will make the

. The understanding landed cold and heavy in her stomach. This was paying. This fast, brutal erasing of life. This wasn't like Papa's stories about knights and justice. This wasn't about being fair o

lifetime, weak and useless against the truth right in front of her. This was the language spoken now. The la

s total control when she felt completely helpless. He was dangerous, terrifying, the maker of this horror. But he had also promised... He had killed the men who kille

without looking. He said something low, giving an order. The men no

he t

nst the bright courtyard sun. His face was lost in shadow. But somehow, even from far away, she felt his eyes lock onto her hiding spot. It

d burned in her mind: him, standing there surrounded by death, turning... looking right at her. Silence flooded back, heavy and choking, carrying the sharp