“Yeah! Master… fuck me harder! Yes! Yes! Oh my God! I'm fucking cumming!” the mobster-slut under Kaden moaned loudly as Kaden banged her monstrously. A knock sounded just then, and Kaden threw on his clothes before telling Colt to come in. Just as Rage has Emma and Ella, Kaden has Colt.

“I think Rage is on his way.”

“What?”

And right then, Rage entered like a vengeful ghost. Without a word, he shot the slut, who was busy packing her thongs, dropping her down on the spot.

Colt ran out immediately, and Rage sat on one of the available couches majestically.

“You actually dared to sabotage my mission? And you know how much I loathe failure,” Rage said calmly, tossing the glass cup onto the glass table. “The last time I checked, you are thirty, and I am twenty-eight. Where did your senses go?”

“Bastard, you think failure is only meant for me? You should taste it too.”

“And that was why you manipulated the senseless snitch? You are mad.”

“No matter how much they praise you, I am still your elder! Spare me some respect!”

And that was it. Rage spiraled out of control and shot him right in the shoulder. Kaden’s excruciating groans forced themselves out of his mouth.

“Consider yourself lucky; it isn't your deathday yet,” Rage warned coldly. “But if you provoke me, I might help make it come quickly.” Kaden shrieked out in pain, clutching his bleeding arm, and Rage walked out like a devil that had just collected a soul and spared the body.

“Bastard!”

*

The mobsters came straight to the kitchen from their mission for dinner, and Lady Giulia had already finished cooking. She served them dinner, and they ate under the tarpaulin beside the classy kitchen.

They were busy chatting excitedly about the mission over food, and the atmosphere seemed lively. Some other mobsters were present too, including Angelina.

“I fucking love Riot. He is so obsessed with eyes, always taking eyes from the enemies,” one of the female mobsters said dreamily, resting her chin on her palm.

“You shouldn't dream about death at an early age,” Ella said, shooting her a secret glare.

“What about the breast shot?”

“Tell me about it!”

“Riot is so cool, and I love working under him.”

They had all finished eating by now.

“We should celebrate this with some shots,” a mobster suggested, and they asked Lady Giulia for some vodka. She brought it to them, and they drank themselves to a stupor.

By the next morning, it was like a snoring competition was ongoing. The trio slept like they never had worries, their drunken state from yesterday keeping them deeply asleep. It was 10:00 AM, and they were still yet to wake up from their slumber.

A knock sounded on the door, but it still didn't wake them up. The knock sounded again, now violently with so much force, and Silt finally woke up. He dragged himself up with drowsy eyes, almost knocking into a chair, but he rubbed his eyes and finally opened the door.

Emma rushed in immediately and gasped when she saw that Angelina was still asleep—in fact, she was coiled up tightly with her pillow. She would've admired her on a normal day, but there was no time for that.

“Konstantin! Konstantin!!” She shook her violently, since Angelina wasn't ready to wake up with ease. Sleep cleared off Silt’s face, and Speaky was awake now too.

Angelina’s eyes snapped open—not because of the name that wasn't hers, but because of the violent shaking.

“Oh! Konstantin, you are fucked! Riot has been waiting at the training ground since 7:02 AM! He asked you to be there by seven!”

Angelina checked her phone and screamed when she saw it was already 10:05 AM. She jumped out of bed and gathered her clothes, then entered the bathroom. She didn't bother taking a bath—she just brushed quickly and threw on casual men's clothes suitable for training.

She rushed out like a flash and ran her way to the training ground. She panted heavily when she got to the training ground and saw the devil's back turned to her.

“I am doomed,” she thought to herself, ran to his front, and bowed sillily. Rage's piercing gaze met hers, and she could swear she saw fire in his eyes.

“I am sorry, Master. I was drunk and that was……”

She hadn't finished her words when a resounding slap met her face. It stung fiercely, turning her face bright red.

“On your knees,” he ordered, and she dropped to her knees, still obeying his damn command. And as if that wasn't enough, Rage kicked her square in her bandaged chest, and she fell flat with closed eyes.

Her mind left the training ground and went all the way back to ten years ago, when her mother was busy styling her hair.

“My Angel, do not ever allow a man to slap your precious face or harass your precious body.”

Angelina remembered her mother's words clearly. Her eyes snapped open, and she stood up stubbornly.

“This bastard breached the two things my mother always warned me about,” she thought to herself as she stepped closer to him defiantly.

She balanced herself, then raised her soiled boot straight to Rage’s face. The next thing she did earned several gasps from the onlookers, as they never saw it coming. No one had ever done that in their years of staying here.

She kicked him badly in the face…