“That bitch had the guts to hang over,” Antonio laughed in despair.
“Any news about Angela?” Courtney asked gently.
“Shut your bitchy mouth up!” Antonio roared, loud enough to shake the whole mansion. His face twisted in a mixture of anger and frustration as he paced restlessly in his room. He wasn't worried about Dorris' threat to involve the police; it never made him nervous. He blamed himself for not eliminating Diana at that time. He never thought she would go this far. He thought he had the upper hand in this, but how come no one knows where she is hiding? He collapsed onto his couch, his eyes shut and his chest heavy. However, beneath his anger, a glimmer of worry flickered. Angela was his only one, and he needed her alive and safe without a scratch. If anything happened to her, he would…. He opened his eyes and felt a tear drop down his face. A heartbreaking laughter cracked out from his chest. “What the hell am I crying for?!” He cursed himself for not taking Diana's life earlier. Now, he had to act fast to contain the situation, or else Angela would be in a very bad position. With a swift motion, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number. “Diana is on the run. I want you to take care of it. Whatever it takes to bring the bitch down, do it. This time she will not need to fake her death!” His male voice trembled slightly. “Consider it done, boss.” Antonio's eyes narrowed. “Tell the others….”
“Yes, boss.” The line went dead, and Antonio's mind raced with strategies to mitigate the damage. He couldn't let Diana escape, and he also couldn't afford to lose Angela. The game was getting complicated, and Antonio's nerves were stretched taut.
*******
The room where Angela was kept was quiet. Her world was darkness. A blindfold covered her eyes, and she was unable to see anything. She was lying on a narrow bed, blindfolded, her wrists and ankles bound to the frame. Crying for her family, pleading endlessly, but no sign of movement was heard in the room. She stopped after many hours of crying. “There is no use. I am probably in an abandoned building alone,” she said to herself. As she lay there, she suddenly heard muffled noises outside the room—footsteps, whispers, and then… punches. Someone was fighting outside! Angela's heart raced with hope. Could it be? Was someone here to rescue her?
***
The door burst open, and a figure dropped down from the ceiling. “Who are you? Please… my family… where are they? They are too young to suffer. I beg you, please take me to them… let me stay close to them.” Angela cried loudly. “I beg you, please take me to them.” She continued to cry. The footsteps approached her, her heart skipped a beat as masculine hands untied the blindfold. Angela's eyes widened at the face she saw. Instead of relief, Angela felt a surge of anger and betrayal. “Damon… what… what are your… is this your plan?” She spat with a tight frown, her voice laced with venom. “I was expecting a thank you at least, but I understand why you feel that way.” Angela frowned and looked away from him. “The answer to your question is no. This is nothing that I planned… if I had planned this, I wouldn't have fought with the guards before getting to you—a command would do that,” Damon replied, cleaning his nose with a handkerchief. Angela looked at him; he had his nose bleeding. She felt sorry but still. After everything Diana said, she had no choice but to keep her distance. That flashback made her frown even more. Damon squatted down to loosen the ropes around her arms. “Angela, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to see me. You know I am here to rescue you.” Angela's laughter was bitter. “Happy to see you? You're the last person I wanted to see. You're the one who got me into this mess in the first place! You worked with Diana! If only I hadn't agreed to your silly game, I would be with Antonio. I wouldn't have to run away with guilt, I wouldn't have to move out of the penthouse, and lastly, I wouldn't be in this condition!” Damon's eyes narrowed, his face darkening. “That's not fair, Angela. I was trying to protect you here. You heard all that and what happened to my side of the story. If I am the bad guy, why am I here?” He took out a pocket knife from his pants and started cutting off the stubborn robe. Angela stared at him, struggling to set herself free. Could he be sincere? He is really trying to get her out of here. Her face paled, his eyes dropping in shame, yet she was finding it difficult to believe him—not after his grudge with Antonio.
“I don't know why you've come here. Maybe you have a plan or something… also, how do you know I was here?” Damon sighed deeply. “I won't blame you for thinking that I am the bad guy. I swear, Angela, you have to believe me. I have no idea about this. I overheard Antonio talking to one of his men; that's how I found out… how could he do this to you… what an emotional brat.” Angela's eyes were soaked with tears. “Is it really him? I don't believe it's him… please tell me.” “It doesn't matter what I said; you don't trust me, so how will you believe me?” Damon replied and cut off the last robe binding her legs. Angela was free, but her heart was heavy, and her body felt too weak to move a limb—not lacking energy, but out of shock. She expected this; the men told her, but yet she was praying that all of it was just lies.
“I know I have made some bad choices which led you into this situation, but I'll make it up to you, Angela. Trust me to fix this.” Angela shook her head, swimming in tears. “You can't fix this, Damon. You can't fix anything. Just take me to my family, please. Do you know where they are?” She cried. Damon nodded. “You do?” He nodded again. “Then what's with that sudden expression on your face?” Angela asked in fear, her heart racing. Damon avoided her eye contact. “I am sorry, Angela…”