He sat on his ornate couch with a glass of cognac in one hand, and a cigar in the other. The room was tense. Every person that was present could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. One wrong move and who knew what would happen? His decisions over the past week were intolerable and rash. One minute he appeared to be calm, and the next minute, he was like a bull in a ring, wanting to take out anything that irritated him even slightly. Next to him stood a woman with a tray, looking straight ahead.
Her body was littered with scars and bruises, yet her face nor eyes showed an ounce of pain. This was what the poor girl was used to. On the tray lay three things. An unlit cigar, a matchbox, and a gun. Anyone would be scared, yet it seemed the girl was accustomed to her job. Being used. Being abused. Being treated like a slave.
Puffing out some smoke, Marcus, closed his eyes. Leaning to the side, he appeared to be placing his glass on the table, however, he had other plans. The glass was thrown to the floor, cracking slightly, leaving a dark coloured stain on the cream rug that adorned the room.
His anger was escalating. It had been nine days. Nine whole days since he had attacked one of Gabriel's main warehouses and yet it seemed like Gabriel didn't care. To further his anger, it seemed the warehouse that had been blown to pieces was now an empty space by the river. No debris. No burnt materials. No evidence.
It was like he was barely affected. His main warehouse was gone, and Marcus was waiting for the bastards next move. Growling out, he pulled his cigar out of his hand and squeezed. The hot ash burning his hand. No one stopped him. Not one person batted an eyelid or got in his way. The last time someone tried to, they weren't treated very well. In fact, one of his maids had to clean up some red liquid off the plush marble floors that graced the front of his home. Albeit, the man may have only been beaten, but let's just say he may have been clinically dead for several minutes.
Not only did he have this issue, but one man that may have impressed him, really was beginning to get on his nerves. The petty boy had bragged about his previous years events with Gabriel's wife one night after a drunken stupor. Not that Marcus cared for her in any way, however what the boy said consistently angered him. This petty boy had already destroyed Gabriel in ways he wanted to. He wanted to make Gabriel angry, just like the stupid boy did.
He wanted to break him. Little did he know, Gabriel was thinking the same thing. Letting his frustrations get to him, Marcus grabbed the gun off the tray and smirked, looking up at the bruised girl before him. Some sort of proudness flashed through his eyes. He had inflicted those bruises. He had made her emotionless towards pain. He had broken her.
Grabbing her hand, he pulled her towards him roughly, making her drop the tray on the floor.
"Clean up this mess. Now", he muttered menacingly as he trailed the barrel of the gun lightly up and down her marked arm. Letting her go, he motioned to his guards to follow him, motioning his gun forward. Marching towards the large door, he clenched his fist, pausing just at his exit.
"The wife", he darkly muttered, smiling like a cheshire cat.
Two days later
The night was young and the moon hung in the sky like a bright disco ball. England was always so gloomy, but tonight things had changed. The sky was clear with not one cloud in sight.
The trees shone under the moonlight and made the water droplets from the morning rain glisten on the leaves like diamonds. The smell in the air was clear as fresh, and the cold nip of the air made Gabriel feel alive. Tonight was the night.
Gabriel stood on his balcony, with tense shoulders. To anyone looking in, they would see a man who almost just looked tired, but that was not the case. Down below Gabriel watched his men pack up cars and change guard positions around his home. After thinking about what he needed to do, Gabriel had managed to coax his family into the movie room, of which Michael did not protest. What they didn't know, was that the room was a safe room that automatically locked, ensuring the safety of the people inside. Lined with bulletproof wall fixtures and materials that couldn't be seen. Disguised by dark red velvet like material.
Guards stood outside the room, and somehow, Angelica's family didn't complain once. They sat in the room comfortably. Angelica's and Jackson's mothers sat together with Greg's wife, mingling, whilst Angelica's brothers, Jackson, Michael and Uncle Frank sat with each other.
The day before, Michael's mother had left to go to a private hospital in London, secretly funded by Gabriel of course, and Lily was looked after by a babysitter picked by Daniel. The babysitter not only was a part of Gabriel's gang, but also a part time teacher at Michael's school. It seemed Gabriel had men in the most odd of places, however it always worked to his advantage.
Gabriel was satisfied somewhat. His plan was in motion and no one knew apart from him and his men. Greg was the first to volunteer his skills in helping guard Angelica, in which Gabriel did not hesitate to say yes. He knew Greg would look after her, yet somehow he couldn't stop this new feeling that boiled in the pit of his stomach.
Dread? Fear? Anguish? He did not know, for they were emotions he had never felt before, however something was telling him that this battle would not be easily won. Turning around, he faced his wife who had her hands behind her back, looking directly into Gabriel's eyes.
How he loved her face, even when she looked tired and worn. He used to lust over her entirely, yet things had progressed. No doubt he lusted after her, but now, he really felt the love he has for her. His possessiveness was something that encouraged him to take her, and yet here he stood, upset with himself for the selfish act he had committed. After seeing her with her family, around his men and around little Lily, he realised what he had in his palm.
A budding flower that had one thing missing in her life apart from her father, and that was someone for her to love. How he wished it to be him. Patience was the key.
He walked up to her and lifted up her chin softly. As he watched her face come up, he realised her beautiful bright eyes held fear and sadness.
"I am sorry, petal", he whispered. Just as he was going to take her in his arms, Greg knocked on his door alongside Bruce and Christopher.
"Boss? It's time". Gabriel nodded and looked at his wife who seemed to be dazed at the balcony before her.
"Why did it come to this? Why do you live like this", she muttered, clenching her fist tightly, as if trying to contain her tears and anger. He knew what she was thinking, for it was only the night before he found her eavesdropping on his plan for Marcus outside his office, of which he was not pleased about.
"I love you", he whispered once. Kissing her cheek every so softly he walked out the room, trailed by Christopher and Bruce, towards the car Daniel sat in. Glancing at his wife who graced herself on the top step of his staircase, he noted her worry.
"I'll be back soon", he mutely said, turning around and shutting the door. Stepping into the car, he nodded at Bruce to drive as his heavily guarded home, became a small speck in the distance.
He may have a weak spot and be in love, but that wasn't going to stop anyone from seeing his true wrath.
This is what he lived for. This is what he and his best friend did.
This is the beginning of the end.
YOU ARE READING
Forced to be His.Romance
She looked up, tears drenching her dark eyelashes. She sees him in the obsidian shadows of the room. A scream is stuck in her throat, unable to erupt from her mouth. She tries to turn and run, but as she moves her feet and takes a step, muscly...