He is a force to be reckoned with. A lift of his finger & people are beheaded in seconds. A word from him & the streets of NY are bathed in blood. Any evil deed, you name it & he has done it. Vicious, nefarious, brutal & downright cruel. Majestic in...
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*(If I don't see 50 votes on this chapter, I won't continue)*
Alessandro's POV:~
“Angel!”
I dash towards her lifeless form, my feet slamming quickly down the tiny marble steps leading to the bathtub, and check her pulse.
It is shallow. But it is still there.
My initial fear gives way to concern.
While kneeling on the rough stairs, I hold her face in my hands and tap her cheeks, trying to rouse her awake. However, Angel does not respond. She remains still, her exhaustion evident. So I give her shoulders a shake.
Slowly, Angel moves, her eyes opening with a look of confusion in them, and my breath catches in my throat as relief washes over me.
“You fell asleep.” I let out a sigh, my features softening as I caress her pink cheek.
“I am sorry. I was just so tired. I did not realize when I...” Comes her hoarse voice.
“It is alright.” I smile, though anxiety still lingers.
My hands reach out to pull her from the water, but accidentally graze against one of her nipples. My body goes rigid. I shut my eyes to shake off the image and look at her face, oblivious to my thoughts.
I totally forgot that Angel was naked under the surface.
I quickly pull off my jacket, slipping it backwards over her shivering figure submerged in the water, and with gentle strength, being careful not to rush or overwhelm her, assist her out of the bathtub.
Upon setting her down on the countertop, I remove the jacket. My eyes fix on the mirror above her head as I slowly discard the now wet garment. Her body is shaking, and her teeth are chattering from spending too much time in the water. I take out one of the bathrobes from the cabinet and wrap it around her.
Only when I am assured that she is fully dressed do I hug her close to my heart, and kiss her forehead, my arms creating a protective shield around her as the organ still beating in her chest somehow soothes mine. “You scared me, Angel. Do not do it again.”
With her face dug into my neck, her arms extend to touch my back. “I am sorry. I did not mean to.”
Wordlessly, I guide her to the bedroom, my steps steady and purposeful. I sit her down in front of the mirror and open her wet ponytail. Her reflection on the glass reveals the raw vulnerability etched on her face — one of a little girl all alone in this huge world without anyone to go to. I fetch a towel from the bathroom and start to dry her damp hair, each stroke of the fabric against her strands calming the raging storm inside me.
