Page 22 of Angelo’s Vengeance (The Commission #3)

ANGELO

The jet’s hum was a steady thrum beneath my boots, the vibration resonating through the floor as I stood at the edge of the back cabin.

Theodosia lay curled under a blanket, her frame too small and fragile against the sheets.

Bruises colored her skin, fading now but not quickly enough for my liking.

She should never have been in that position. Should never have been in Renzetti’s hands.

I watched her sleep, her breath soft and even, chest rising and falling in a rhythm I memorized the moment they wheeled her out of surgery.

The plane swayed slightly in turbulence, but she didn’t stir.

She was exhausted, likely drugged on painkillers and fury.

Even half-dead, she still managed to hurl insults and try to walk herself out of the hospital. Classic Theo.

And yet, as I looked at her now—quiet, vulnerable—something sharp twisted in my chest. Something I didn’t like. Something that felt dangerously close to fear .

I didn’t do fear. Not since I was little. Small. Now, I caused fear.

But there she was, digging her designer stilettos into the cracks of my armor like she belonged there.

I ran a hand down my face, my jaw tight, and turned away before the guilt swallowed me whole. Back to the main cabin. Back to where I belonged—with men, maps, and mayhem.

The Anthakos brothers were spread out across the seating area, waiting for me impatiently.

Ilias leaned over the table with Remo and Bacco, reviewing the satellite images that Veronica had uploaded.

Kostas and Vaso were seated nearby, speaking in Greek to one another, which I only partially understood.

I slouched into the chair across from them and tapped the screen with the tip of my finger .

"We believe he’s using old contacts from the Gulf Cartel,” I said, pointing to a cluster of coastal ports in Belize and Honduras. “Maxim has a contact down there we’re waiting to hear from."

Ilias nodded, but his knuckles were white around the glass in his hand.

He hadn’t said much since that night in New Orleans—not about Theo, just the job—the hunt.

We had always been more alike than I cared to admit.

Guy was going to blow if he didn’t let off some steam.

This issue with Theo exploded in our faces, and I knew he had something brewing about Maxim’s sister that was gnawing at him.

I didn’t have the brain space or emotional bandwidth right now to talk to him about that, but I made a mental note to ask him later.

"We need to make a move soon," Kostas said. "The longer we wait, the more he disappears."

"I won’t wait,” I growled. That feeling just before pulling the trigger, assured and certain, filled me. I would get him. "I’m hunting. Every day. Every hour. We don’t stop until he’s in the ground."

"And Theo?" Vaso asked, and I didn’t miss the accusation laced there or the narrowing of his eyes.

I glanced over my shoulder toward the closed door.

My throat worked once before I spoke. There was only one option regarding Theodosia Anthakos that would ensure her safety.

I needed to stop dragging my feet. At one time, marriage had felt like a death sentence, but I didn’t feel that way anymore.

Now, I was looking forward to having her in my space and spending more time with her, peeling back all the layers of what made up Theo.

There wouldn’t be any claim from me that there wasn’t a bitter taste in my throat about how we’d ended up in this situation, but I wouldn’t shrink away from the attraction I felt anymore. Or the duty to protect her.

"She’ll be coming home with me,” I said.

"Protected. It’s time to make it clear that the blood oath will be honored.

We’ve enjoyed some freedom in our lives, and she’s had time on her own.

Now that’s over.” There was unmistakable relief on the brothers’ faces.

While Ilias hadn’t pressed me, the fact that I hadn’t pushed forward on the match had been a security issue.

I knew he hadn’t said anything because he’d been struggling with the blood oath himself, but there wasn’t going to be any more running from it. The consequences were too big.

I leaned back, arms folded across my chest, and allowed the silence to linger a moment longer before I spoke again.

“There’s something else,” I said. My tone had turned colder, sharper.

“Theo told me who showed up instead of the designer she was expecting: the woman we were trying to identify who set her up.

" A bitter taste filled my mouth as I tried to get the words out to tell my friends that it was really my mother who sold out their sister.

Ilias stiffened. "Who?" he asked. “We wanted to press her, but she was still really out of it from the surgery and struggling. I figured she would have said something if she knew anything else.”

My jaw locked, but I forced it out. "My mother."

A stream of Greek curses erupted from Kostas.

Ilias merely stared at me as if he couldn’t decide whether I was lying or if he was about to put his fist through the fuselage.

A starburst of shame erupted in my solar plexus.

Not only did she abandon us, but she also didn’t give a flying fuck about her family.

Then she had stooped so low as to help kidnap my fiancée and hand her to a sex slaver.

Carlotta kept finding a new low, and I shared blood with her. It was disgusting.

"Carlotta Santelli," I confirmed. "Theo didn’t initially recognize her. She had gone under the impression she was meeting that designer, only to find Carlotta instead. I’m surprised Theo even knew who she was. She was still little when my mother left.” I clenched my teeth.

“Anyway, Carlotta had all kinds of crap to say — and she threatened Polina. We still don’t know Carlotta’s connection to Salvatore, so we’ll need to figure that out. ”

Vaso slammed his glass down. "That fucking bitch."

I wasn’t going to defend her. I wasn’t even going to try. Whatever pieces of a mother I had in my mind—of what a mother should be—had long been reduced to ashes. If anything had been left, she obliterated them with this stunt.

"We need to get the full story on where she’s been,” Kostas interjected cautiously. He was trying to prevent the situation from escalating. Good luck. “Carlotta’s been… away. We need to understand her connection to Renzetti. You’re right about that.”

"She knows him," I said flatly. "Knows him well enough to deliver a girl like Theo straight into his arms. That’s not just some distant acquaintance. That’s a relationship ."

“It could be business,” Ilias suggested, though he didn’t sound convinced. “It could be… personal, but she made a critical error by involving Theo.” He glanced at his brothers. “And mentioning Polina was a mistake. She is off-limits.”

"He’s too young to be her lover," Vaso said. "But maybe a protege?"

“I’m not sure he’s too young. She wouldn’t care about that. Remember, she’s a snake. He could be a bastard," I muttered. "Wouldn’t be the first secret son of that mafia whore. Nothing she does would surprise me.”

No one spoke after that. Maybe I was taking it too far. Normally, I wouldn’t disparage a woman for making her way in the world any way she could. However, Carlotta used everything she had to inch forward, showing zero qualms about the tattered remnants left behind .

Ilias finally broke the silence. "If she sold out Theo, she’s not safe. Not from us."

"I know," I said. “I’ll kill her myself.” I twirled the brass knuckles on one finger. Typically, I had rules about women. For Carlotta, I’d make an exception.

I might have worn the Santelli name like a badge once, but now it felt more like a stain.

I would burn the entire fucking famiglia to the ground before I let her close to Theo again.

"So what’s the plan?" Kostas asked. His voice was calmer now, but it had that edge. That ‘soldier’s readiness.’ The brothers were all the same in that way. Rage held behind glass teeth.

"We go to New York," I said. "We set the trap. Let him think he’s got breathing room. Meanwhile, we choke off every supply line, every port, every dock. We let Maxim’s guy in Central America flush the rats out. Renzetti won’t make it to the next full moon."

"And your mother?" Vaso asked.

I stared at him. No emotion. Just finality. “She might be a little harder to find, but when we do, she dies.”

The flight unfolded in tense silence, but the wheels were already turning.

I could feel the heat rising in my chest again—the fire I only allowed to burn when blood was due.

Renzetti had made this personal, and Carlotta had turned it into a betrayal.

I was coming for them with everything in my arsenal.

No one— no one —betrayed me and walked away breathing. I’d brought death to men for less. I’d buried traitors under concrete, left enemies in roadside ditches, and smiled while their blood stained my boots. But this...

This was different.

Because this time, the woman they hurt was mine . I might as well admit it. It had taken me years to come to terms with it, but there was no escaping the truth. She would fight me every step of the way, but it would happen.

Theodosia would be safe. Not because I promised her brothers, not because it was expected.

Because I said so .