Castillo Del' ?ngel: Marked By Vengeance.

CHAPTER: 30
*

Castle.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring into space like the expensive paint on the wall was going to give me answers.

There were none—no answers, no purpose, and no goddamn fire left in me today.

I should've been at La Iglesia already. I should've called a meeting and demanded updates from the other leaders.

I gave them a task—to root out the traitor who killed a federal judge. And I had no doubt that at least one of them was dragging their feet.

But the truth was that I didn't have it in me today.

Not after watching Angel walk out of that bar with those women. Not after delivering that box of fingers and imagining the moment he opened it.

I thought it would bring me peace but it didn't. I thought it would scare him into submission, but all it did was drain me more.

A knock on my bedroom door pulled me from my daze, making me groan.

Why was Adriana disturbing me again? The woman just didn't know how to take a hint, even when I offered it in simple but harsh words.

"Come in," I muttered, already bracing myself for the headache that was to come.

I sighed in relief when I saw that it wasn't her. Instead, it was the housekeeper, with arms full of fresh linens and her eyes cast respectfully low.

Thank fuck.

I got up wordlessly and left her to tend the room. I didn't feel the need to be around people today and with the way my mood was dangerously bitter, I wasn't sure it was a good idea.

I wandered down the hall, walking past rooms that I never used, as I climbed down the spiral staircase that led to the kitchen I rarely ever stepped foot in.

I pulled a bottle of milk from the refrigerator, unscrewed the cap, and drank directly from it.

Yup, it's a bad habit but I didn't care. If my mum was still alive, she would have hit me on the head, grumbling about how spoilt I was.

The thought made me smile as it brought back some good memories, but at the same time, it just reminded me of how I lost the one good thing in my life.

With the bottle in my hand, I continued down another staircase, this one narrower and less decorative. A passcode-protected door slid open to reveal the private cinema.

After putting in the passcode, I entered the cinema and looked around as if seeing it for the first time.

It might as well be the first time though, because I haven't been down here in ten years.

It had dark walls, recliner seats that were all black leather. A glass bar lined the back wall, untouched in years. The air was cold and stale.

I chuckled as I made my way to the front row and settled into the biggest recliner.

When was the last time I even sat down to watch a movie? When was the last time I let myself just exist without the weight of my responsibilities pressing in on me?

I clicked on the projector, browsed through the digital library, and looked for something mindless, violent and cold.

After browsing for some minutes, I finally selected Hereditary.

As the screen flickered to life, I leaned back, milk bottle resting on my stomach, and stared ahead at the chaos unfolding on the screen.

But my mind was somewhere else. I was thinking about Angel.

Would he be scared now?

Had he opened the box and screamed? Had he cried? Vomited? Broken things in anger?

Had he curled into a ball on that couch of his? Or was he sitting on the armchair when he opened it?

Would it keep him from touching another person again? Or would he be defiant? Would he test my patience, thinking I wouldn't go further?

A bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

You'll learn soon, little Falco. You don't test the devil and walk away whole.

The thought spiraled into something sharper. I needed control.

Reaching for my phone, I fired a text off to Tomas: Find me cameras. Small with no wires. They should be motion-triggered. And I want them within the hour.

If Angel wouldn't stay where I could see him, then I'd bring the shadows to him instead.

I wouldn't touch him, not yet. I want him attention starved, and touch starved as well.

But I would watch his every move. It might just keep me sane, or it might push me over the edge.

Either way, I was done playing small games with him.

***

The movie had reached the dinner table scene in Hereditary—that god awful tension-choked moment when Annie finally snaps, unleashing years of resentment and grief onto her son.

My phone buzzed on the armrest, Tomas' name flashing across the screen: Got what you asked for. I'm downstairs.

I grabbed the remote, turned off the projector, and stood.

By the time I reached the main living room, it was already late afternoon. And sitting there, like a fucking angel in a painting, was Adriana.

She was draped in a long flowing summer gown, pale and delicate like she was auditioning for the Virgin Mary. One leg tucked under the other, hair cascading over one shoulder.

She looked so innocent and pure that I almost stopped walking.

But Tomas stood to the side, looking at me. I knew I couldn't talk business with her in the room, so I gestured toward the hallway and turned on my heel.

"Castle," I heard Adriana call.

I stopped on the first stair without turning, my spine stiffening as I stared at the wall.

"What do you want?" I asked, not hiding my irritation.

There was the soft sound of shifting fabric, followed by faint footsteps.

I clenched my jaw and waited.

She came to stand in front of me, and when I didn't look down, she touched my chest.

"I need help getting back up the stairs," she said sweetly, looking up at me.

My gaze dropped to her stomach. It was barely rounded. I mean, she wasn't even far gone, and she wanted to play the delicate damsel?

"Fine," I muttered, and extended my arm stiffly.

She slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow and I led her up the stairs, each step making me question why I hadn't thrown her out months ago.

The moment we reached the top landing, I peeled my arm away and walked straight into my wing without so much as a backward glance.

Tomas followed, about to shut the door behind us when her voice called again.

"Castle..."

Tomas paused, hand on the doorknob, looking to me for direction.

I turned, eyes meeting hers as she approached the doorway.

"Hell no," I whispered under my breath, just loud enough for Tomas to hear, and then I slammed the door in her face.

Satisfaction roared through me as Tomas chuckled softly behind me.

"She really thought you'd fall for that?"

"She always does," I muttered, brushing past him toward the bar.

Now, back to business.