Dear All,

as promised, I posted a new chapter of"Fallen for an Angel" and I hope you will enjoy it. Let me know what you think of it, I enjoy reading your comments and messages, you know that :-)

I won't say much about this update and let you simply read its events and feel the emotions.

I have selected a picture that, in my mind, recalls how Roman might see Enna in a specific moment of the chapter. Let's see if you also share the same impression. I opted for a song that seemed to fit it perfectly.

Let me please thank you for the support and sweetness you always show me, with your comments, your messages, your votes, by reading my stories: THANK YOU! My Cat purrs pleased ^^

CH.24 is DEDICATED to each of you reading and loving this story.

Now I'll leave you to it,

ENNA POV:

I stared at the food and felt a bad taste in my mouth: I wasn't going to touch it and not eating it would lead to vicious consequences, but it didn't matter. I kept waiting and waiting in that dark room for what seemed to be endless and torturing time, feeling the cold crawling my skin and sinking deep into my heart. It gave the impression of soon going to split in many frozen pieces for how cold it felt. I had tried to remove the restraints in every possible way and it actually had slashed my skin. Tears of frustration had rolled down my face, because it was tearing me apart to think there was no way out of here. I had tried everything in my power, but the pipe must have been connected deep in the ground and the restraints too tight to give in.

I knew that my father and sister had by now started to look for me and that they would search everywhere. It was about time only and I still could not believe how Michael actually thought this would work out without problems. He had lost every sense of rationality or even of caution; he believed himself above law or limit. He always had an extreme arrogant side that stepped over normal and healthy self-confidence: Michael often regarded himself as someone that could always do as he pleased without fearing the consequences. I shivered remembering the time he had mistreated waiters and waitresses in many restaurants, never making a scene or attracting attention of course, but always making them feel like they had done something wrong. This was only the tip of what he had done and how badly and arrogantly he had behaved.

I shuddered and I could see my breath whenever I exhaled. It was completely dark in the room and I didn't like it. I was afraid of being in this place locked up and strapped. The sound of a car recalled back my thoughts and enhanced my fears. The heart beats seemed to count to seconds that Michael took to open that door. They echoed in my chest, in my mind...they felt dull and heavy. More cold wrapped around my body as I heard keys on the locker of the door, that odious mental clangour and the light switching on suddenly. My eyes jerked closed a moment for the sudden hit of the light and I heard him approaching.

"Maybe I should have left the light on?" He asked as if making normal and casual conversation.

I said nothing to that question and forced myself to actually turn my eyes to glance at him. His face looked so...my throat was too dry to even swallow down. He stalked closer and closer and stopped right in front of me, his hand gripping my face and jerking it too close to his alcohol-reeking breath. I tried to control the instinctive reaction of pulling back and of sheer disgust, but I could not. I did not want to control it because the idea was enough to make my skin crawl in pure and deep revulsion. He grabbed me stronger and I repressed the cry of pain in feeling his fingers almost crushing my jaw.

"It hurts," I managed to say and my eyes shot at his. I wanted to get out of here and away from his insanity, but not at the cost of his hands on me. I would rather shoot myself than having to endure and suffer such dread, such torture and humiliation. If he would dare to...no, there was no way I would be able to stand myself and live with that. "I said that it hurts," I repeated with firmer voice, challenging his crazed stare. His eyes widened in clear unchecked anger and I knew the hit would arrive very brutal.

But it did not arrive and instead he tried to move his mouth on my skin, smiling in a very malicious way. I pulled back and somehow pushed him away with my free hand. He burst out laughing in such a way that a deep shiver of fear slithered down my back. Then Michael eyed the untouched food and his eyes assumed that expression that once more made me understand it was not possible to reason with him.

"You do not like my food?" He said with openly angry voice, taking my face in his hand yet again. "You do not want to eat what I generously offered you?" His fingers closed more painfully around it, but I did not care as I pulled back with all my strength. "What is this?" He almost yelled, having his voice echoing in the cold room.

At first, he pushed me away and I took a deep breath that I had held for long time and I stood straight, staring at him and trying to decide what to do. He took a step and snatched my free hand with so much strength that I was afraid my bones would crack; however, the feeling of his hands on me blinded my senses with disgust and I tried to haul it free. In the commotion, my eyes caught sight of his other hand hitting me at the last moment and the collision could not be avoided. More pain exploded in my face and I felt more blood in my mouth. I cried out in pure instinct as the hit almost sent me on my knees; Michael grabbed my arm once more and dragged me on my feet, going to force his face on mine.

A repulsing and dreading feeling of undiluted fear and revulsion invaded every cell of my body and it gave me the necessary strength to pull back, hitting him with my free hand as it had slipped away from his grasp.

"Don't touch me, stay away from me," I challenged him.

"What did you just say?" He hissed and I had to control myself from shuddering in increasing panic. This was not going to end well. I had no more doubts about this: Michael would not wait for Sunday. "What did you just say, you stupid slut?"

"I said to not touch me, Michael," I repeated. "Do you realize what you are doing? What do you plan to do with me once we leave this place? To lock me in your place? I have work, I have friends, family..." My voice could not conceal the desperation because it wasn't possible: this situation had touched its lowest level and I just wanted to get out of here, away from him. "What do you plan to do, just tell me Michael," I raised my voice and he obviously didn't like it.

He grabbed my arm and forced me to get close to him, but I moved my face away and struggled to gain some distance. He tried to reach my mouth with his and I almost choked in blind horror, struggling with all I had in myself. It worked somehow, but it cost me a painful blow in my stomach this time that literally dropped me on my knees. It left me out of breath for a moment and I coughed out a couple of times, moving my eyes up just in time to avoid another hit. He had completely lost his mind. He must have taken some drug or he must have drunk more alcohol because his behaviour was completely out of control and violent. I pushed myself up and he stared at me as if wanting to kill me or...worse. I took a deep breath to control my fear.

"Michael, let me go," I said without hesitation.

"I will not let you go, bitch. You belong to me and yes, you won't need to work or see your stupid and useless friends. They have always put wrong ideas in your mind about me...especially Cillian, who clearly just wants to get you in bed."

"What are you talking about?" I almost shouted. "I will not stay locked in your place. I have my own life, so just let me go!"

"Oh no...I have lost my patience with you, my pet. I thought you would be more grateful, but you are not." He marched to me and I had nowhere to go or hide, so I simply struggled against him. "I am going to punish you now and I will do whatever I want with you."

I think my heart stopped dead in my chest as those words excruciatingly sank in my ears and in my brain. No...no...no...I wasn't going to let him touch me. I would rather die than let him touch me or...no. No! I trashed from his grip as he tried to push me on the ground, for terror was now about to drive me out of mind. I hit him with my elbow right in the face and he hissed in pain, going then to grab my hair in a vicious grip. "You stupid bitch," he snarled in my face. "Get down and let me fuck you as you deserve."

"No, don't touch me, you are out of your mind, you disgust me. Kill me but don't touch me!" I shouted, trying to hit him once more. He pulled out his gun and pressed it on my side.

"I will kill you if you don't shut up, Enna. Now, get down and let me do as I please." He backhanded my face but I tried to repress the gasp of pain.

"No," I hissed. "Kill me, kill me...kill me! But don't you dare to touch me!"

"What do you mean no?" Michael snarled out of his sanity and I struggled more, hating to feel him this close. I almost hit him, but he did strike me first, nearly throwing me on the ground. "You will let me do as I please with you or else..."

The door let go of a low clangour and it opened in a quick movement. For a moment I thought I was hallucinating due to fear and pain, because it could not be possible...he had left for Kiev and...But then he spoke and my heart started to beat again. My Roman...he was there...he had heard my prayer...he had...My Roman was here.

"Now you are dead for real, Michael Sullivan." Those words froze everything and I could feel the controlled, rational violence and menace emanating from his voice. His raw power engulfed the entire room and it felt as if it had enveloped my aching body.

Roman took a step and walked over the threshold, holding a gun and having it aimed at Michael's head. He went entirely still for a moment, because he sure hadn't expected this to happen and I simply looked at my love, my soul...Roman had come for me...he had found me here. We exchanged a quick glance and, in that instant, I knew Roman was going to kill Michael. I also knew that I would do nothing to prevent it. The way his eyes assessed Michael with that very dark and cold light, let me understand immediately that he would keep his word. Michael had dared to touch me and I had no idea in which conditions my face was, but Roman's eyes spoke enough. He took another step and I could feel the aura emanated from him: it was made of a cold, calculated killing intent and it was so powerful and commanding that it almost sucked the breath out of my lungs. Michael inched away from him, still holding me.

If that night I thought of witnessing at a glimpse of what my Roman entirely was, I had been entirely naive, for I had seen nothing. Now I could finally see his real and complete, dangerous self. An incomprehensible pull tugged at my heart and at my soul: they quivered as they breathed the crushing and menacing aura of Roman. They quivered in need, not in fright.

"Let Enna go and I will kill you fast, yes?" His voice made me shiver, but not in fear, because it felt as if it caressed my most inner self. He was the most dangerous and lethal predator and it would take no time to eliminate Michael.

I could only stare at him completely hostage of his magnetic, dark allure, feeling the grasp of his power over my skin.

Michael pressed the gun on my side and dragged me closer to him, making me cringe at his proximity. Roman did not miss it and I did not miss the way his eyes travelled my face. His beautiful emeralds darkened even more and his expression set into hard and rather intimidating lines; it was as if everything in him became cold and focused and I simply stared at him, because I needed to look at him and make sure he was real.

"Take another step and I will kill your precious bitch," Michael threatened him, but Roman did not say anything nor lowered his weapon. He assessed him as if he was seeing nothing, a simple obstacle to remove from his path. Roman's lips slightly tilted up in a rather menacing half smile and he quietly spoke.

"I did say to let him go. You are dead already. But it can be fast or slow. You decide," he said with a voice that I had never heard from him, sounding completely void of any emotion or feeling, only an icy and commanding tone that had Michael hesitate. "Let him go," he ordered once more and Michael's grip tightened around me painfully.

"I will kill him," Michael snarled, but Roman did not retreat. He simply stared down at him and took another step.

"Then you die after long and painful torture."

I didn't know what to do. I hated to feel powerless and in the hands of Michael, but at the same time, I knew my love held the entire situation in his palm. My Roman and I shared a quick look and it was like feeling his warm and reassuring hands on me, caressing my skin and reliving me from any fear and pain. I smiled at him and I did what his eyes seemed to tell me. My elbow suddenly hit Michael on his stomach and for a moment I thought I was dead as the barrel of his gun almost stopped in front of me, but in no time he was on the ground shouting in pain, the weapon far from his reach. Roman had fired at his hand and had him immediately drop to the floor. My love took a few, calculated steps toward me and never removed his eyes from Michael.

He halted in front of him and his foot stepped on his wrist, tearing out another cry of pain from him. I felt nothing at seeing that. Nothing and, if at first it surprised me and almost shocked me, the moment Roman and I looked at each other, I understood the reason why it did not surprise me anymore to feel nothing for Michael being hit.

"You fucking bastard, you want this bitch..." he hissed out and Roman crouched on the ground and shoved the gun in his mouth, pressing his knee on chest in what was a very painful way. The knee sank more and Michael let out a muffled cry.

"Another wrong word to Enna and you die slowly, with a lot of pain," he promised him. Something flashed in Michael's eyes and I believe it was the first sign of lucidity he had after long time: he had comprehended that Roman was not saying those words as an empty menace, but that he meant them. "You did touch my angel and you did hit him. You wanted to force yourself on him..." he readied his gun. "You are lucky Enna is here, because I do not wish my angel to see me torture you. You are lucky that I do not have the time for it."

I gulped down at the mercilessness of his words. He really meant what he said.

"Do not move," Roman ordered him as he searched in his jacket for the keys of the manacles at my ankles. I noticed that he wore leather gloves. Indeed he was not going to let him live after this. Michael went to do something, lucidity having abandoned him, but my love reacted faster and hit him hard with a gloved palm on his nose and I did not doubt he had broken it. "I said do not move. Your nose first and then what?" He went to reach for something hidden on his back and Michael's eyes filled with dread as the blade of a very sharp combat knife was pressed against his throat. "You want me to cut it open? It is a slow and very bad death if I do not cut it good," he taunted him with dark voice, somehow stressing his Ukrainian accent harder than he normally did.

I could see who my love really was and I could imagine how respected and feared he was in his world. I could see the Roman with the Stars that he had told me about. My Roman was a man without fears and it seemed that even demons would drop on their knees before him; it was not possible for me to explain how it all made me feel, but I wanted to reach for my love, I wanted to touch him. I wanted to be right beside him. It was not fear what I felt in my heart, it was not panic or terror that slowly filled my veins and made me tremble.

Roman held a rather dangerous and dark fascination on me and he must have felt it, because his face tilted to me and my lips parted in a mute sigh at the way he seized my gaze. Our souls were calling for each other and vibrating in need and at the feeling of their closeness. The darkness of his soul seemed to call and awaken a shadow in my own that I never knew to possess. Once more that pull I felt when we met for the first time took hold of me and I unconsciously took a step to my love.

"Who the hell are you?" Michael grunted out and Roman shifted his murdering eyes back to him.

"Remember my name when you die, Michael Sullivan: I am Roman with the Stars and Enna is my angel. You did touch the wrong person." He found the keys and stood on his feet, but only after having deeply carved the side of Michael's face with the knife. He broke in a skin-crawling scream and I silently gasped, while a shiver ran down my back. "This is for what you did to my angel."

We had not spoken a word to each other yet, but I knew the reason. I went to take the keys, but Roman shook his head and he freed me from those manacles and then from the restraints that had kept my arm locked to the pipe. He stored everything in his pockets, as if wanting to remove every possible trace of me being held here. His hand went to touch my face, but it stopped before reaching it; his lips smiled at me and his eyes seemed to ask for forgiveness. Tears formed in my eyes and slowly rolled on the cold skin of my face: there was nothing to forgive, even if Roman thought that seeing him acting in such way had to be forgiven. My love had nothing to be forgiven and the only way I had to convey my feelings and emotions to him, was to reach for his hair, sinking my fingers in it. We needed no words. He smiled at me another time and then turned his attention to Michael, still agonizing on the floor.

Roman grabbed him by the jacket and forced him to stand on his feet, resting the barrel of the gun right on his forehead.

"Do not move," he ordered him with hard voice. "This is your execution, Michael Sullivan." Then his voice spoke to me and I shuddered at hearing it calling me...I shuddered as I felt the concern wrapping around his dark tone of voice. "Enna, do not look and leave the room, please."

Michael tried to struggle and Roman hit him so hard to his side that he dropped on his knees, gasping for air.

"Your hands on your back," he ordered him and, with the gun resting on his forehead, Michael realised he had no other options but to do as he was told. I looked at him and I felt nothing. I knew that Roman was going to kill him and I felt nothing. Only a strange and inexplicable pull toward my love. I looked as he tied his hands in those manacles and at how he stood up, readying his weapon.

"Enna, leave the room. Please, my angel." The look in his eyes melted my heart.

"No Roman, I am not scared of you," I said taking the step that separated us and once more sinking my hand in his hair. "I will not leave and look away from you."

"My angel, you are pure and you are..." he stopped and simply stared at me in silence. His arm wrapped around my body and he went to pressed me against his solid and warm body, to hide my face on his shoulder, but I pulled back.

"No Roman, you are my love and you are my very soul." I would not let him shoulder and bear this alone. "I want to be beside you, I want to be your angel for real."

We exchanged another mute and intense look, our souls communicating with each other and whispering at each other. He turned his eyes to Michael, by now almost convulsing and trying to plead for mercy, unable to move or think of doing anything else to save his life. Roman's arm wrapped stronger around me and completely pulled me against his side; I faced Michael and there wasn't any trace of emotions in me as I stared down at him, thinking about what he had almost done, what he had planned to do. No emotions surfaced as my mind and heart contemplated his fate and end.

I stood straight beside my love, my arm circling his back, feeling our bodies pressed together. I stood there beside Roman as he moved to shoot Michael in his mouth, but I saw nothing, only heard sounds, because at the very last moment as he went to fire, his hand wrapped around my face to cover my eyes. I shuddered at the sound of the explosion of the bullet that had been engulfed by Michael's last cry of pure and utter despair. I shuddered at the dull sound of a body hitting the ground.

Roman stepped in front of me, removed his gloves a moment to take my face in his hands, sinking his emeralds in my eyes.

"Enna my love, forgive me. There was nothing else I could do. He deserved his end for what he did to you."

"Roman...there is nothing to forgive..I...I just love you and you came for me..." He kept holding my face firmly, preventing me from seeing what had been left of Michael. "Thank you," I whispered out and he only smiled.

"Enna," he murmured as he sank his fingers in my hair. "Enna, now you are safe. I felt you beside me, I felt you sharing this with me." He stared at my face and he closed his eyes a moment, to repress the sudden wave of anger that mounted in him. "Close your eyes please, yes? It is not something nice to see." I hesitated. "Please Enna, close your eyes. You do not deserve more violence than this. Please close your eyes." I weighted his words and gazed more into his beautiful green jewels. I couldn't believe he was here with me and that he had just saved me. I nodded and followed his request. "Follow me," he said and he led me outside the metal door. "You can open your eyes, but do not look down. Wait for me here, Enna."

"Yes, Roman," I whispered, momentarily touching his face.

"Give me few minutes, my angel."

He walked back to that room, his leather gloves back on his hands, and the door closed behind his back. I just waited there and tried to not shiver, but it was not possible. If Roman had not come...I wrapped my arms around my shaking body. My carelessness of that night had almost cost my entire life and mental sanity, because if something would have happened in that room, I think my mind would have broken, and so my heart. Morally speaking I should have halted Roman, preventing him from killing Michael, to let a court judge him; but when his eyes stopped on mine and when his voice filled the room, I knew it would have been useless. Nothing would have stopped Roman from eliminating Michael and it had been his very promise: if Michael would have touched me once more, he was going to be dead. Therefore I knew Roman would have not stopped, because he followed his own rules.

Standing beside him, even with my eyes covered and my faced hidden in his hand, was like sharing the responsibility. Although my eyes were closed, it still felt like we both pulled the trigger. It was right in that way and not because I endorsed violence or executions, things that always terrified me, but for the simple reason that Roman and I had to share even darkness. He did it for me only and I did it for him only. I was aware that my love followed completely different rules in his life and I loved him even more for having allowed me to understand him entirely, to let me see Roman with the Stars.

ROMAN POV:

My angel's face had been touched and hit with such violence by that bastard that his lips were coated with blood, and I had no doubt they were split. His beautiful and ethereal eyes looked back at me with daunted expression and they looked haunted, tired and his pale, soft skin bore the signs of that violence, exposing bruises. His hair was dishevelled, clearly being abused by the ruthless and worthless grip of that piece of shit. He was going to pay for every finger he had dared to land on my angel, for the pain and fear he had instilled into him. It didn't seem to me he had dared to do more than that, but I believe that some God had led me here on time to prevent my angel from going through such torturing experience.

Michael Sullivan was dead indeed, and it was bad I had not the actual time to issue him every sort of pain and torment he deserved for having dared to hit and kidnap my Enna. That bastard should have listened to my words that night and simply let Enna be. Now there was no turning back and nothing or nobody would prevent me from taking his miserable and useless life.

The moment he had laid his filthy hands on my angel, he had signed with his own blood for his execution.

The bastard dared to threaten to kill Enna and, I evilly smiled: he had not grasped the concept that he was already a dead man, and his behaviour would only mean he could die without much sufferance or the other way around. He was such a worthless piece of shit that did not even try to fire at me, but I knew the reasons all too well. It had already happened in my past experiences: I had seen a moment to lucid dread on his face, as I stepped in the room with the gun pointed at his head and he had understood that I would kill him first. I had seen it before. I knew how my presence could crush other people's will and reactions. What he still failed to understand was that his menaces to Enna only fuelled my ruthless need to tear him apart with my own hands.

Enna and I exchanged a quick look and he understood me immediately. He also trusted me completely, knowing I would never risk his life or hurt him. My angel hit that bastard with his elbow and that was enough to distract him and allow me to shoot him before he could do anything against my Enna. He slumped to the floor crying in pain, after the bullet sank in his flesh. I walked there and stepped on the wrist of his shot hand, issuing more, deserved agony. The face of my beautiful and pure angel had been hit with cruelty and it was painfully clear.

Two emotions only took possession of my body in that instant: real, physical pain in seeing my love hurt and trembling in what still was fear for what had happened; ruthless and murderous, cold rage for what that fucking bastard had done to my Enna. I could only kill him and nothing else.

"You fucking bastard, you want this bitch," he snarled out and the moment I heard him addressing Enna with such low and crude word, I set my knee on his diaphragm and pressed it hard on it, thrusting the barrel of my gun in his filthy mouth. I should have ripped his tongue away, but I would not behave so ruthlessly in front of Enna. The fucker could call himself very lucky.

"Another wrong word to Enna and you die slowly, with a lot of pain," I promised, seeing he finally began to grasp in which situation he stood. He was dead already. "You did touch my angel and you did hit him. You wanted to force yourself on him." I purposely readied my weapon, to let him know he had numbered seconds left. "You are lucky Enna is here, because I do not wish my angel to see me torture you. You are lucky that I do not have the time for it."

Yes, he was very lucky.

"Do not move," I commanded him, because I was sure he had the keys of those horrid chains that kept my angel hostage. The rat tried to move and his nose paid for that. "I said do not move. Your nose first and then what?" I took a knife strapped at my back and shoved it against his throat. He was lucky I had a different and quicker plan for his death. The blade there demanded to be sunk into this bastard's throat, but I controlled my rage, enjoying instilling in him even more panic and terror. He had to experience it on his own skin, even in his last seconds. "You want me to cut it open? It is a slow and very bad death if I do not cut it good," I explained with calm voice, smiling at his panicked face.

Something similar to that pull and attraction I felt the night I met Enna captured my soul and heart; it was like feeling Enna's own emotions calling for me. It felt like his very soul called mine. My eyes moved to his face and he was staring at me with his lips slightly parted, wanting to reach for me. I felt that same connection with my angel once more. I held his eyes for a quick moment, letting him see I understood him completely.

"Who the hell are you?" The bastard hissed out and I turned my attention back to him.

Who was I, he asked?

"Remember my name when you die, Michael Sullivan: I am Roman with the Stars and Enna is my angel. You did touch the wrong person." The keys were hidden in an inside pocket and after giving him a small taste of his own cruelty with my knife, I stood on my feet. "This is for what you did to my angel."

He had dared to hit Enna and he had dared to leave bruises and blood on his beautiful face. Slashing one side of his face was nothing if compared.

Enna moved to retrieve the keys, but I opened those manacles and set him free, feeling my blood growing in restless cold rage as my eyes caught sight of the bruises on his skin. I stared at my love and wanted to touch him more than anything else, but not yet. It was not easy for me to contain my rage and murderous instinct for what has been done to him, but it was harder to let him see of what I really was capable of. He had already a small bite of it, but very small indeed. We locked eyes for a breath and he must have read into me, because tears rolled down his breathtaking face and pale skin, and his fingers dipped into my hair. Feeling his hand on me almost brought me on my knees. My angel did not mind to see me as Roman with the Stars. I thanked him with a smile and then focused my attention on that bastard still hissing in pain on the ground.

"Do not move," I ordered, after having forced him on his feet and having pressed the barrel of the gun on his forehead. "This is your execution, Michael Sullivan." Then I spoke to my beautiful angel, for I didn't want him to see this. "Enna, do not look and leave the room, please."

The rat tried to get free and I hit him at liver's level; he dropped on his knees right in front of me, panting heavily.

"Your hands on your back," I ordered him and he must have realised there was nothing he could do to save his miserable life. I tied his hands behind his back and that was where I should have shot a rat like him: at his back. But I had something different in mind.

"Enna, leave the room. Please, my angel." He could not stay and witness this.

"No Roman, I am not scared of you." He covered the small distance between us and once more let his finger run into my hair, caging me in his mesmerizing, blue eyes. "I will not leave and look away from you."

"My angel, you are pure and you are..." I paused and we silently communicated. I wrapped my arm around him to shield him from this, but he resisted me.

"No Roman, you are my love and you are my very soul." The way his alluring gaze rested on me and the way his eyes gleamed with dark light, held me his prisoner. "I want to be beside you, I want to be your angel for real."

My gun had never moved from that bastard's face and the smallest reaction from him would have called for a bullet. As I stared back at him, he was pathetically asking for mercy. He should have never touched and harmed Enna. My angel stood lethal and breathtaking beside me, wrapping his arm around my back, feeling his hair caressing my skin; he held his face straight and no emotions showed on it when I went to pull the trigger.

However, I would never let Enna see this. He would never forget the images of blood and brains splattered on the ground; it would always taunt him and this I could not allow. As I pulled the trigger to finish that bastard, my hand wrapped around Enna's face and turned it against my neck, covering his eyes at the same time. My angel could not witness such brutality.

The bullet was fired and blew that bastard's head off.

This was over.

*****

I made a quick check in my mind and the result of it was that I had taken care of everything in the proper way. Nothing would lead to my angel or to his family, and it had been good that Eamon hadn't called the police. I was somehow sorry that they had been directly involved in this and for their entire life they were bounded to such unpleasant and blood-stained secret, but it could't be avoided. My angel sat silently beside me as I drove him back to his place, where his sister and father had been waiting for him in a state of fear that I could understand very well. I had not called them, for obvious reasons.

I gave Enna different clothes to wear, because the ones we had before had to be disposed of; traces of that bastard's blood were on it, especially after I blew his brains out. Before reaching the car, I burnt our clothes and other evidences, for collecting the remains in plastic bag. I had found Enna's backpack in that bastard's car and retrieved it, checking that nothing was left behind.

Police could search all they wanted, but the note I had left at his place, the traces of cocaine in his car and the info I had leaked from his computer would simply pilot the investigation to a clear and doubtless case of suicide. Not to mention the medicines he had in his house and that I made sure to place right in sight. Burning down that house and his corpse inside of it was the best solution to cover everything else. I had left one container of gasoline in his car, bearing his fingerprints. The police could put the pieces together itself. The fact that dead rat was trying to steal from the client of the will was not entirely true, but the way I messed with the information in the computer made it very realistic. However the bastard had stolen money from other clients. It was only a matter of time before someone would sniff around him and would demand for an explanation.

Too bad I had little time to take care of him, though. A bullet to blow his brains out was not enough if compared to what he had dared to do and tried to do to my angel. He should have never touched my Enna.

My love shivered beside me, never letting go of me while I drove. He kept one arm around mine and his head on my shoulder. When I did not need my left hand to shift gear, I let it rest on his leg. We spoke little for the simple reason that Enna was mentally and physically exhausted; he must have experience such dread and terror in the past hours that the idea made my blood boil and wish to resuscitate that piece of shit only to issue him more, agonizing pain. I had asked him what happened and, even if it must have cost him excruciating effort to recall those hours, I had to make sure of what had happened and of what had not happened. I silently thanked the God my angel believed in for having spared him from such horror.

If that piece of shit would have actually forced himself on Enna...I am not sure what I might have done to him. And that was not the issue here. How would my love be feeling now if that had happened? I repressed the sudden wild and dangerous wave of anger and squeezed Enna's leg gently. It was useless to linger on something that did not happen. My angel was now safe and out of danger.

"How do you feel now?" I asked him, turning my head to look at him for quick instant. He smiled tiredly at me, but there was no fear or panic left in his eyes; he moved even closer to me and wrapped both of his arms around mine, pressing his head firmly on my shoulder.

"I feel good now with you, Roman." His voice was still shaken and from time to time he would shudder strongly. I didn't like the idea of having to leave on Monday, but it could not be avoided. I had duties to follow and then I had to find a way to leave that world. "I don't know what to say my love, you came for me and..." his voice broke and he softly cried.

"Enna, I will always come for you," I tried to sooth him, slowly caressing his hair now. "I felt restless for days before and I did not want to leave, and then your father called me." I dropped silent a moment, the memory of it filling my mind. Now that son of a bitch was dead and would not longer represent a menace in my angel's life. The thought calmed me down and then, I felt Enna's fingers in my hair. "My angel, I love you," I told him with quiet voice.

"And I love you, Roman," he murmured back with his lips now softly stroking my jaw. "When do you leave?" His voice slightly wavered.

"Monday morning." I felt him stiffen beside me, but then he nodded, his hair caressing my skin.

"Monday morning," he repeated and the grip around my arm tightened. I understood Enna completely and for a moment I wished we had met in different circumstances. But I had responsibilities and duties to fulfil and once it was over, I could concentrate on my own wishes.

His question reminded me of the message I had received before. The number was unknown to me, but the content immediately kick started my brain. I stared at the road in deep silence, thinking about that message, and I thought that he truly was a bastard. A fucking son of a bitch he was. Flying back to Kiev on Monday actually came on a perfect time, because I grew too restless in the past days, being so far from boss Boris when I was certain that his wife was plotting something behind him. I wonder how he would take the news, but something told me he would probably care little about that. There was one thing only I had to make sure back in Kiev and one person to question, in order to avoid war with that big shot.

Something told me that he might not be involved and questioning that person would only confirm it. We had to get rid of that Chechen group, because it had stepped too far, clearly protected by the new oligarch's greedy hands. One thing was sure: Ruslan had his days numbered, unless he was smarter than I thought and he lay quietly down.

I parked the car not too far from where Enna lived; we walked to his place and we never let go of each other. I had to make sure he was right beside me and there with me, safe and warm. My hand securely held his and; at this hour of the night, nobody was around. The sky was densely black and only a few stars could be spotted amidst those thick clouds; the breeze was very cold and Enna shivered a couple of times beside me. I wrapped one arm around his slender shoulders, pulling him in my embrace. He melted in it and seemed to sink deeper in my arms. What he felt in that moment mirrored my emotions. We couldn't let go of each other; we needed to be in each other's arms, touch and drink one another's presence.

My angel was safely beside me now and nothing had happened that would torment him for his entire life, giving him nightmares that could never really fade away. He was here with me.

The main door of the building where Enna lived had been left open and I smiled thinking that Eamon must have thought of that; we walked the stairs in complete silence, simply holding each other's hands, Enna completely pressed at my side, as if afraid of losing physical contact with me. He softly tapped at his door and I heard frantic steps reaching for it; his sister opened it and stared at her brother with tears in her eyes and lips open in a mute cry of joy. Their father was right behind and he silently breathed out, his face clearly portraying the state of his emotions. He exchanged a quick look with me, his eyes piercing mine. Ciara grabbed Enna's hands and pulled him for a hug, silently crying. I pressed a hand on my angel's back, as a suggestion to step inside the apartment.

I closed the door behind my back and Ciara burst out crying, still hugging her brother and sobbing heavily. Also Enna broke down crying and tightly held his sister; Eamon stood a moment simply observing them, probably realising Enna was safe and out of danger, and then he wrapped his arms around them both and kissed his head. I observed them and felt something that I had never experienced in my entire life; they were family in the real sense of the word and it was obvious they loved each other dearly. And they had welcomed me in their family.

"You are back, son," Eamon said with strained voice, then shifting his tired eyes on me. "You kept your word, Roman. Thank you for having saved my son." I said nothing, simply nodded.

I went to step away a moment, to give them some privacy, but Ciara clutched my hand and stopped me. She surprised me by closing her thin arms around me, weeping more quietly.

"Thank you, Roman," she whispered between sobs. "Thank you so much for having saved my brother, for having taken him back home to us...thank you..."

Enna also looked surprised and then tenderly smiled at me, letting one arm close around his sister and one around my back. I returned her hug and quietly spoke to her.

"I did promise it, Ciara." My eyes shifted back to my angel and I spoke those words as I captured his breathtaking eyes. "I will always keep my word." He understood what I meant and a dazzling smile formed on his face. My angel was safe.

I stepped aside when they took care of Enna, giving him ice for those swollen lips, putting balm on his bruises, cleaning and disinfecting his cuts. I watched silently and never removed my eyes from him; he felt my stare, because sometimes he smiled at me and my soul rejoiced at such view. It was fair to let them take care of him, even if I wished to do so. Ciara stayed with Enna when he took a shower, and Eamon motioned me to follow him to the kitchen. When we stepped into the room, he stood straight in front of me and offered me his hand that I took. He clasped it with incredible strength and I knew what it meant for him. I understood what he tried to convey with such gesture.

"You will always have my complete gratitude, Roman. I don't give bullocks about what you are and who you are. In my eyes, you are the man that saved my son and that brought him back here safe. He told me that nothing..." he closed his eyes and his mouth contracted at the thought of what might have happened. "Enna told me that that bastard only hit him." Eamon dropped silent a moment and then let go of a long sigh. "You took care of him I guess, am I right?"

"Yes I did," I replied staring straight into his eyes. "There was no other solution. But do not worry, Eamon. I did take care of it in the right way." He said nothing and then, after a few seconds where he simply studied my expression, he nodded. "I am sorry you are involved," I sincerely said.

"I'm only sorry that Enna had to go through this." He sat on a chair and rested his forehead in his hand, once more sighing out loud. "It will take time to somehow forget this or simply push it aside. Bloody bastard," he groaned out in repressed anger. "He dared to hit my son...his lips are..." He shook his head and his hand covered his face for a few seconds.

"He will no longer represent a danger for Enna."

"Roman, Enna must know about Cillian." I halted at his words and assessed his face. "He needs to know that he is involved in some bloody mess."

"I do not think telling him is a good idea."

"He has to know about this, because I don't want my son involved in more bollocks."

"Eamon, I did think about killing that man." His eyes widened a moment, but he said nothing. "I did think about that, to solve the problem. But I cannot, because I do not have the right to do it. He is Enna's friend, yes?" Eamon nodded only. "I am not sure what to do. That Cillian man got involved with wrong people, believe me. He will not simply get out of it as nothing."

"That bloody tool. What has gotten into his mind?"

"He does gamble a lot," I explained him and his face became tense and pale, for he had grasped how it all began.

I pondered his words and weighted the pro and cons. He was right in saying that Enna had to know about this issue, but I feared it would somehow involve my angel in more dangerous matters. Of course he could shoulder the news and I had no doubts he would keep it for himself only, but it meant pulling Enna deeper into this mess. Telling him about his friend meant explaining more about this operation and the less he knew the better. However, telling him meant to warn him about a potential danger, which was probably the most important thing.

The truth was there was no right choice. That was another problem to investigate and the reply I sent to that message had already moved in that direction; if this Cillian Flannery was deeply involved, maybe it was better for Enna to know and take some distance. I humourlessly laughed and Eamon looked at me. If that man was deeply involved? He already was and he had played with the wrong people, without knowing all the rules.

"You know Enna very well, Eamon. Do as you judge best," I said and he stood on his feet, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.

"When do you go back?"

"Monday morning."

"Do take care of yourself, Roman." His words somehow surprised me and he saw that. "Fulfil your last promise to Enna and I'll give you my complete bless."

I replied nothing to those words, for they held great meaning for me. I only inclined my head and, after a few minutes, Enna stepped in the kitchen with his sister. He immediately walked to me and I pulled him tight in my arms, burying my face in his hair. His body completely pressed on mine, wanting to leave no space between us; the way his hands grabbed me spoke clearly enough of his emotions. I held Enna in my arms for long, silent minutes.

Yes indeed. I would fulfil that promise and get back to my angel.

Author's chit-chat:

What are your thoughts or impressions about this chapter? Did you expect Enna to choose to stay beside Roman or not? In my view, writing about these two peculiar characters, it felt right to do so. What do you think of Eamon's request to inform Enna about Cillian?

Next chapter will bring more action and it will bring us back to Kiev. I can say that a few chapters are left before the ending :-)

I'll be looking forward to reading your comments, my dears!

I will post another chapter next week possibly, as I am also working on CH.20 of "Loving You is Forbidden": STAY TUNED!

If sometimes you don't receive notification, check my board, as I place news about chapters and updates. Also, if you can't directly access the new chapter, try to do it through the one preceeding the new upload. Or try to log out and log in again.

Lots of Love, Magic, BIG HUGS and Meows,
-TheWitchAndTheCat-