Page 127 of The Diávolos: Part Two
“It must be Philip’s bastard son. I thought it was just a rumor.”
“Kastellanos has a bastard?” Dion asks, surprised.
I’d heard of Philip’s ‘mistake,’ but the details were always washy. No one has ever seen him, and Philip denied it.
“How do you know it’s him?” I retort.
“His eyes. The heterochromia.”
How Xander caught that detail from over here is beyond me, but that’s why he’s my most valuable spy.
The man turns around and our gazes meet, his brown and blue eyes locking with mine. Despite the vibrant, crystalline color, they are icy, lifeless.
He looks haunted, stripped of his humanity, and I recognize myself in him.
We stare at each other for what seems like a long moment, before he turns around and continues to attack guards as they try to come in.
It looks as though he’s helping Angelica. Why the fuck would he do that?
She still hasn’t noticed my presence, but I see a man approaching her while she’s distracted. I take out my gun and shoot him straight between the eyes. This commands the attention of everyone in the room.
Angelica freezes, her brain processing the fact that I’m standing only a couple meters away. But the urgency of the situation snaps her back into focus, and she continues to fight. I join her, my men following, and we seamlessly blend into the chaos. Together, my angel and I become a force to bereckoned with. Our movements are synchronized, anticipating each other’s actions without a word spoken. It’s almost like we’ve done this a million times before. I knock one man off her, and she whirls around and shoots. She kicks another and sends him straight into my line of fire.
The attackers, now caught off guard with the unexpected reinforcement, struggle to keep up.
As more men drop like flies, I feel a surge of relief. The tension that had gripped my muscles begins to subside.
When we’re finally done, Angelica drops her handgun and sprints toward me, jumping into my arms.
A wave of warmth surges through every fiber of my being at the feeling of her body pressed against mine, the sensation akin to the gentle embrace from the sun after a long, cold winter. The chaos fades into the background as my men round up the last of Philip’s henchmen, the only reality that matters being Angelica nestled against my chest.
Her scent envelops me, creating a cocoon of comfort and familiarity.
In that moment, every worry, every ache, melts away.
As I close my eyes, I savor every detail of this moment—the gentle rise and fall of her breath, the subtle squeeze of her arms around me.
“I missed you, wife,” I murmur into her hair.
“You found me,” she whispers back.
“I’ll keep finding you until the day I die.”
Angelica tenses for a moment. “Never leave me.” Tears flow from her eyes, leaving streaks down her face.
I swipe my thumbs across her cheeks. “Not in any universe,angeloúdi mou.”
34
EVANDER
“Before you pledge your undying love to someone, make them promise they won't die.”
—Robert Breault
After leaving the others to take care—orkill—the rest of Philip’s men, I direct Angelica through a corridor that opens to underground housing. It looks a bit like Hendrick’s lair, though not as big and glamorous.
There are doors that open to bedrooms, bathrooms, and offices, as well as a kitchen, living area, and a security room where several screens are on, showing the outside of the property and some tunnels that lead to the entrance on Cebrene’s side.
