Part Nine

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Angelica had tried to sleep, but it couldn't come to her.

She sat there in the dark room, staring out to the moonlight for the second time.

No tears. No feelings running through her. She was numb. The only thing that could be heard was the wind breathing in and out of her balcony doors, blowing the sheer white curtains in and out.

Knees up to her chest, her chin lightly rested on her legs, huddled up to the headboard.

The sun was going to rise soon, however Angelica stayed still. Her hair slightly blowing with the breeze.

From afar, she was observing. A beautiful angel in the moonlight. But she was not the same.

Littering her neck lay bite marks. Not red and sore. Dark purple and black, like HIS eyes. Her wrists lay purple and green, and her right thigh hand a large handprint painted on it, red, and even purple in some areas.

Although quiet, many thoughts clouded her mind. Her family, Frank, Jackson. Did they know she had gone? She had been missing for nearly two days. Did they know what had happened to her?

What about her schooling, her job? What was going to happen to her? Most importantly, what did she do to deserve this. Had she done something wrong in her past life? Had she angered him at the cafe somehow? She hadn't had a hand in anything illegal. Or maybe she did something somehow? She had no idea.

She wanted to forget what had happened, but she couldn't. He hurt her. He bruised her. Her marked her. His words ran in her head.

"Tomorrow, we are getting married".


Gracing his fathers armchair, he held another glass of alcohol, eyes red. He was drunk. Feeling lost, angry and somewhat pleased with his artwork, he began to think about what he had done.

Grabbing her by the arms, he pinned her to her bed roughly, arms above Angelica's head, knees pinning her legs down. He had her, she was under him just as he had dreamt of. He felt every curve of her body pressed against his toned body. Her breasts caressed his chest as she breathed slowly, in and out, up and down. Her pelvis sat at his lower abdomen, slightly jerking to get away. His breath had slowed down, and hers began to speed up. Looking into her eyes, he smirked, menacingly. Angelica has made him feel things he had never felt before. Angelica made him feel love. But Angelica had also made him angry. If she wasn't willing to cooperate even slightly, he would show her what he could do. He would mark her as his.

Gripping her chin with one hand, he began to caress her cheek, teasingly breathing against her neck. It happened before Angelica could scream. He attacked her neck with his lips, tongue and even teeth. He was marking her, showing her who she belonged to. Feeling her thrash around, he used his right hand and grabbed her thigh roughly, making her cry out.

"Stop! Stop."

"No! I am THE GABRIEL, and I will do what I want! YOU ARE MINE!".

Grabbing her hair with his right hand, he made her tan neck more accessible and bit down it, causing it to roughly bruise.

"Please stop!"

No response. He knew she felt pain, but he couldn't stop.


She was going in and out of consciousness.

"You taste too sweet my angel".

Gripping her wrists tighter than before, Gabriel bit behind her jugular.

Everyone would see his mark.

Who was she? She was HIS. No one would mess with her.

"Do.....Do...Don-..Don't rape me please. My innoce-. Don't rape me." She had stopped fighting him. He felt her come to a still.

Rape. Rape. Rape. He had awoken from his animalistic slumber.

Composing himself, he pushed himself off of her. Looking at her almost passed out figure, he cringed. He had done that. He had hurt her.

"Tomorrow, we are getting married". Without looking at her form again, he walked out the door, happy he marked her, disgusted that he had abused her in such a way.

Leaning back into his fathers arm chair, he looked out the window, and saw the sun was about to rise. The blood red hew lighting up at the edge of the ocean. Gabriel picked up his phone.

"Bring me a lawyer, with a marriage certificate. A dress for your First Lady, and bring yourselves and the men. You are to be the witnesses".

Getting up, his shirt was clinked, with the buttons undone, and the sleeves rolled up. Walking to Angelica's room, he slowly opened the door. He expected her to be asleep, but was met with a nightmare he had never wished to see.

His hand marks covered her thigh and wrists, along with this bite marks littering her neck. She was forcing her eyes awake, looking out to the ocean.

He wanted to walk towards her, and apologise for his mistakes, take away her pain. Then it hit him, like a tonne of bricks.

He was her pain.

He vowed to make her love him. He vowed to make her happy.

By the end of the night, she was to be his wife.

By the end of the night, she would be his. She wouldn't be able to leave him.

By the end of the night, he would show her how much he loved her.

By the end of the night, he would prove himself to her.

His wife.

His woman. His Angel.

Mrs Angelica Ziva Rodrigo.

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