His Curvy Obsession BWWM

Thirty Nine

Chapter 39

"When did you come back last night?" Angelina asked, crunching the popcorn as she flickered the TV remote to a channel.

"You were fast gone when I was back," he mumbled silently, wrapping his arms around her.

Complete. He felt complete.

Everything was serene, peaceful, and surreal.

"Oh," she blinked, "I didn't know when I later fell asleep," she spoke, raising her head to look at him before pecking his jaw lightly, trailing down to his neck before resting her head at the crook of his neck. "You were late," she pouted while he chuckled, patting her hair adorably.

"Well, I heard there was a new pizza place, so I went to explore," he wasn't lying yet, not telling the full truth; he did hear about the new place and went there but had some hindrance on the way that needed to be cleared.

"Okay," She nodded her head, facing the front, "You know—" she started but stopped as her eyes flicked to the headlines, "—what!" she screamed as her eyes fixed on the television.

The picture of Alex and Paul were displayed on the TV screen as the paramedics were carrying two bodies out on a stretcher.

"Oh my God," Angelina covered her mouth in shock, staring at how people were fretting over the bodies being carried to the ambulance. "What could be wrong? I saw them—no, we saw them two days again," she whispered, wiping her head to Nathaniel, whose expression was unreadable, shrugging his shoulders.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed, jaw ticking because this wasn't the result he wanted, but it was still better. He wanted them burnt to ashes; even their perverted bone could not be found. "They had it coming," he muttered unconcernedly as he continued to play with Angelina's hair.

"What?" Angelina didn't hear him.

"Nothing Angel," he smiled softly, pecking her forehead as he effortlessly collected the remote from her and switched off the television.

"Why did you put it off," she asked, gulping as she glanced from the off-television to Nathaniel, whose gaze was hard on the screen.

"You are getting white just by seeing the covered body," he pointed out reasonably, rubbing her side soothingly.

"Oh yeah," she shuddered, rubbing her shoulder; it was giving her chills just by watching.

The source of their death was unknown, and the police concluded the effect was a leaking gas that caused the burn. Nathaniel smirked slyly, his gaze fixed on the television, rubbing his stubble.

They'd come, broken part of his soul, and he retaliated. There was nothing wrong with getting retaliation.

After he went out of Jessica's house, he called Nicholas to clear up everything.

"Bro," he heard the merry in Nickolas' voice while he removed the mask and the bloodied hood he wore. "calling on the night of your honeymoon, eh eh," Nicholas teased jokingly.

"I want you to cover something for me," he stated, throwing the polythene bag inside the back seat before driving to the new pizza place while he ruffled his hair away from his face.

"Oh-oh, don't tell me you kill on your vacation?" Nicholas laughed.

"No, I didn't," he said, glancing at his wristwatch. She would be asleep before I got home, he thought. He used just a couple of hours.

"Then what did you do?" Nichols asked, "Checking on your rusty training?" Nicholas' voice boomed out in laughter.

"Just broke some useless legs - then maybe lit up a bar," he responded gruffly.

"You kill them?" Nicholas gaped at him.

"No, I did not," he answered, parking his car in a safe spot. He didn't murder them; they didn't save themselves before the fire got to them, "But I might have instigated their early death," he responded truthfully.

"Oh-oh.— That's my bro," Nicholas clapped his hands, "Always so sneaky with prey, Uhn?"

"Shut up and get to work," Nathaniel said, getting out of his car and crossing to the other side of the road.

"I know you don't do something irrational, then why?" Nicholas inquired.

"They pissed me off— they made her cry, they'd it coming," he replied curtly, entering the store.

"Yeah, because we protect what's ours," Nicholas's voice hardened and cold.

"Yeah," he nodded, placing his bill for the lady at the counter.

"Okay," Nicholas agreed, and he hung up, collecting the box from the lady.

Nicholas was born in the mafia, and he would be the next boss when his grandma was dismissed from the system, yet that didn't make him have the least connections. Nicholas was his sidekick in the ruthless business world by being his lawyer while he was his second hand in the underworld but worked in shadow, yet not a fully-fledged mafia, and his loyalty ran deep.

They fought their battle together, and they always had each other back. His family and Nicholas's family have been friends since the fifth generation, helping one another. Nicholas wasn't just a friend but a brother in heart and soul.

They cherish what was theirs and protect what was theirs with their life, and God bless any motherfucker who thought otherwise.

"Was that how people died?" Angelina asked him in a small voice, staring at him expectantly for a response, "Are you listening to me?" Angelina's voice drifted him out of the memory.

He enjoyed the fear they emitted, and he relished in their voice like music. After the voice of his Angel chanting his name in pleasure, then to her talking about anything. He couldn't get bored of them, then came the terrified voice of his victims.

So pleasurable and desirable.

He wasn't an angel or demon, but he was the devil in white clothing himself. It was only Angelina that could make him crumble, he could and would do anything or everything for her, but to let her go—that was impossible. Even death couldn't separate them. He was crazy for her, and everything about her was driving him insane and making him fall for her more.

She was the light to his darkness.

The Angel to his devil.

They had not known each other for long, but her gentle eyes, melodious voice, bashfulness, and beauty drew him closer like a moth to flames. He didn't want to overwhelm her with the rawness of his feelings, and she was also new to it. He couldn't wait for her to catch up to him.

She was his to love.

His to protect.

His to worship.

He was obsessed with her, not just her body but everything. Her smile, her laughter, her soul, her mind, her gaze, her tears, and everything. He wanted all.

He was crazy and insane.

Yeah, he was insane and crazy for her.

She was his drug.

He wanted to give her the whole world, but she didn't want the world. She was so selfless, worried about those people who hurt her.

He glanced at her and saw she was already staring at him with her tongue in between her lips, looking innocent yet a seductress.

"At some point in life, people have to leave this world," he responded as Angelina snuggled close to him.

"By next week, I'll be meeting with a client of mine," he started, inhaling the strawberry shampoo in her hair.

"Oh," she mumbled quietly, "Then I'll be the only one at home," she said dejectedly, playing with his shirt.

Nathaniel smiled at her; he liked how she felt about him not being around her, "I'm not leaving you here alone," he grinned cheekily, "You'll have to tear me in pieces and then bury each piece in different regions so that I can't get back to you," he whispered, "but I'll always get back to you because river never leaves its source or forget its source," he said, turning her to face him.

"No matter where I go, where I am— I'll always be with you because you are my home."