His Angel: A Dark Mafia Romance (Dark Sovereign Book 10)

The air in Anthony’s apartment feels different today. Lighter, somehow, even with the familiar hum of the city pressing against the windows. I’ve been eighteen for a few weeks now, and every day since my birthday, this place has been my sanctuary—his penthouse, a fortress of sleek lines and warm leather, a world away from Michele’s suffocating cage.

But it’s not home. Not really.

Nowhere’s ever been home to me. But this is his space, his rules, his life, and I’m just borrowing it until I figure out how to breathe on my own.

I’m sitting cross-legged on the bed in the guest room he insists isn’t a guest room anymore, cradling a mug of coffee between my palms. The steam curls up, tickling my nose with that rich, bitter scent I love, and I glance at Anthony sprawled beside me—long legs stretched out, one arm propped behind his head, his own mug balanced on his chest like he’s daring it to spill.

His dark hair’s a mess, sticking up from where he’s been raking his hand through it, and his bright eyes catch the morning light streaming through the blinds, glinting with that easy mischief I’ve leaned on for years.

It’s our morning routine now. He brings me coffee in bed and gets in next to me, and we’ll start the day with banter and laughter. But today’s different.

“You’re quiet today,” he says, tilting his head to study me, his voice low and warm, like he’s testing the waters.

I take a sip of coffee, letting it burn my tongue just a little, and shrug. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” He nudges my knee with his socked foot, a playful prod that makes me smile despite myself.

“About how I can’t stay here forever.” My words hang between us, and I watch his face shift—nothing dramatic, just a flicker in his eyes, a tightening at the corners of his mouth.

“We’ve talked about this, Everly.” His tone stays light, but there’s a thread of something heavier woven in, the same one I’ve heard every time this comes up. “You don’t have to go anywhere. This place is yours as long as you want it.”

I set my mug on the nightstand, the ceramic clinking softly against the wood, and pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

“I know we’ve talked about it. A lot. And I know you mean it. You’ve been trying to glue me to this apartment since I moved in. But I can’t keep hiding here.”

He gets up, coffee sloshing a little as he swings his legs over the edge and walks around the bed to settle in front of me. “You’re not hiding. You’re just…safe. There’s a difference. And I like having you around. You make this place less of a bachelor pad and more of… I don’t know, a home.”

“That’s sweet.” I smile, but it’s tight, and I tug at the hem of my oversized shirt, another gem from my collection, which reads Nope, Not Today in bold white letters. “But it’s your home, not mine. I need something that’s just me, somewhere I can figure out who I am away from all this.”noveldrama

“All this?” He arches a brow, his grin teasing but his eyes searching. “You mean my charming company?”

I laugh softly and nudge him back with my foot. “You know what I mean. Michele. My mom. This world. I love you, Anthony. You’re my best friend. But I don’t belong here. I never did.”

He’s quiet for a moment, sipping his coffee, and I can tell he’s chewing on that, turning it over like he always does when I push this point. We’ve done this dance before—me itching to break free, him pulling out every stop to keep me close.

“You’ve said that a hundred times,” he finally says, setting his mug down beside mine. “And I’ve told you a hundred times, you don’t have to run to find yourself. You can do that here, with me. I’ll back off, give you space, whatever you need.”

“It’s not about space.” I unfold my legs, scooting closer to him, my voice softening as I try to make him see it. “It’s about freedom. I’ve been under someone’s thumb my whole life—my dad’s, my mom’s, Michele’s, even yours, in a way. You’re not like them—I know that—but you’re still part of this world I want out of. I need to stand on my own, not lean on you forever.”

His jaw tightens just a little, and he leans forward, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it’s got answers I don’t. “You think I don’t get that? I do, Everly. I swear I do. But every time you talk about leaving, I see you out there alone, and it fucking kills me. You’re not built for their games—Michele’s, my dad’s, any of them. I can protect you here.”

“I don’t want protection.” My words come out sharper than I mean, and I soften them with a sigh, reaching for his hand. His fingers are warm and steady, and I squeeze them gently. “I want to live, Anthony. Not just survive. And I can’t do that tethered to your life, no matter how much I love you.”

He looks at me then, his bright eyes searching mine, and there’s a storm brewing in them—worry, frustration, something else I can’t quite name.

“We’ve been over this so many times I’ve lost count,” he says, his voice a little rough around the edges. “I’ve tried every angle. Bribed you with coffee, promised you the guest room forever, even offered to let you redecorate this place with your weird thrift store finds. What’s it gonna take to convince you to stay?”

I laugh again, the sound bubbling up despite the ache in my chest, and I pull my hand back to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You’re relentless, you know that? But it’s not about convincing me. It’s about me needing this. I’ve got to try, even if I fall flat on my face.”

He leans back, running a hand through his hair, mussing it further, and lets out a long breath. “You’re stubborn as hell, you know that? Always have been. I just… I hate the idea of you out there without me. And I hate the idea of you leaving me behind. You’re my best friend too, you know.”

“I know.” My throat tightens, and I swallow hard, the coffee suddenly tasting bitter on my tongue. “And that’s why this sucks. But it’s not goodbye; it’s just… a new chapter.”

Before he can argue again, the doorbell chimes—a soft, melodic ping that cuts through the quiet. Anthony’s face shifts, a sly grin tugging at his lips as he stands, stretching his arms over his head. “Oh, that must be your surprise.”

I blink, caught off guard, and tilt my head. “My what?”

He doesn’t answer, winks, and heads for the door, leaving me sitting there with my mug and a flicker of curiosity curling in my stomach. I hear the faint murmur of his voice, a low chuckle, and then the sound of the door clicking shut.

When he walks back in, my breath catches—because there, cradled in his arms, is the most adorable basset hound puppy I’ve ever seen.

Long ears flop over her face, big brown eyes peek out, and her little tail wags like it’s trying to keep up with her excitement.

“Anthony!” I gasp, sliding off the bed, coffee forgotten as I rush over. “What is this?”

He grins, holding her out to me, and I take her carefully, her warm, wriggly body settling against my chest. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he says, his voice softening, losing that teasing edge. “If you’re hell-bent on going out there, and I can’t be with you, at least you’ll have this little monster to keep you company.”

I bury my face in her fur, her puppy scent flooding my senses, and I can’t stop the grin spreading across my face. “She’s perfect. Oh, my God, look at her ears!”

I lift one floppy ear, letting it fall back, and she nuzzles my hand, her tiny tongue darting out to lick my fingers.

“She needs a name.” He leans against the bedframe, arms crossed as he watches us with that half-smile I know so well.

I sit back on the bed, cradling her in my lap, and she flops onto her side, paws kicking the air. “Hmm. What about Daisy? She’s got that sunny vibe.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “Too basic. She’s got more personality than that. Look at her, she’s already judging your coffee.”

I laugh, stroking her belly as she squirms. “Okay, smartass. How about…Penelope?”

“Too fancy. She’s not sipping tea with the queen.” He steps closer, scratching behind her ear, and she lets out a contented huff.

“Fine. What’s your genius idea?” I tilt my head, smirking up at him.

He grins, crouching to meet her gaze, studying her face. “How about…Luna? She’s got that moonlit glow—kinda like how you look right now, all smitten and starry-eyed.”

I glance at her, those big eyes catching the light, her ears spilling over like little crescent moons. I smile. “Luna. Yeah, that’s it. She’s my little moon.”

“Told you I’m good at this.” He stands, shooting me a smug grin, and I roll my eyes, but I’m too smitten to argue. Luna yawns, her tiny mouth stretching wide, and nestles deeper into my lap, her warmth seeping into me like a promise.

For the next few days, Luna becomes my shadow, toddling after me through Anthony’s apartment with those floppy ears dragging across the hardwood.

Her little paws tap a clumsy rhythm behind me—kitchen, bedroom, living room—like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets me out of sight. I can’t even grab a glass of water without her plopping down at my feet, big eyes staring up like I’m her whole world. It’s adorable, and I’m completely gone for her, scooping her up every chance I get to bury my face in her soft fur.

Potty training, though? Total disaster.

Luna’s got a bladder with zero manners. She pees everywhere, leaving little puddles on the rug, the kitchen tiles, even Anthony’s favorite leather chair. I’m scrubbing yet another spot by the couch when she squats right in front of me, unleashing a stream like it’s her personal art project.

“Luna, no!” I yelp, lunging for a towel, but she waddles off, tail wagging like she’s proud. Anthony walks in adjusting his tie, sees the mess, and groans, running a hand through his hair.

“Nobody told me bassets were this damn stubborn and hard to potty train.”

I laugh, tossing pee-soaked kitchen towels into a bag and in the bin. “They require patience and persistent positive enforcement.”

“I thought I was getting you a companion, not a pee machine.”

I scoop her up, her guilty little face nuzzling my chin. “She’s perfect, aren’t you, little bug?”

“I’ll get hold of a trainer tonight after I get back. They’ll have her peeing in her designated area in a few weeks.”

My heart drops, and I clutch Luna tighter. “Anthony?”

He stops and turns to face me. “Yeah?”

I bite my bottom lip, searching for the words. “I’m not going to be here for another few weeks.”

“Oh, shit.” His expression falls. “That’s right. You’re leaving next week.”

I nod, giving him a half-smile.

“Sorry,” he quips, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’m blocking it out, you know…the whole you-going-away thing.”

“I’m not leaving the country, Anthony,” I say, walking closer. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again. I can visit. You can visit.”

“And what if you build a life somewhere, a life I don’t have a place in?” His words hang heavily in the still air, a harsh reality tucked within the folds of his concern. I see in his eyes a mirror displaying my own fears.

I swallow, setting Luna on the ground, and wrap my arms around his waist, leaning into his chest.

“You will always have a place in my life.”

He weaves a hand through my hair, placing a kiss on my head. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

The next week goes by in a blur. Anthony secured me an apartment in Sacramento. Made sure I had enough money in my account to get by the first few months even though I objected vehemently. Anthony, however, insisted, and I found myself with a significantly increased bank balance.

We’re standing at the private airstrip, the hum of Anthony’s jet vibrating through the concrete under my feet. Luna’s tucked in a carrier beside me, her nose pressed against the mesh, and I’m clutching my bag, the weight of leaving sinking into my bones.

California waits. So does freedom, but it’s Anthony’s face that keeps my heart tethered here.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, my voice catching as I gesture to the jet. “Luna, the plane, everything…it’s too much.”

He steps closer, hands in his pockets, his dark hair ruffling in the wind. “Yeah, I did. You’re my best friend, Everly. And if this is what you want, what you need, then I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you got a shot at finding what it is you’re looking for.”

Tears prick my eyes, and I blink them back, swallowing hard. “What if Michele⁠—”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “There’s not a chance in hell he’ll screw this up for you. I’ll make dead sure of it.”

I suck on my trembling bottom lip. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Don’t get sappy on me now.” He grins, but it’s softer, sadder, and he pulls me into a hug, his arms strong and steady around me.

I press my face into his chest, breathing in his cologne—woodsy, warm, the scent of safety—and let the tears spill, soaking his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” I whisper, my voice muffled against him, and his grip tightens, like he’s holding on to me for dear life.

“Me too.” His voice cracks—just a little—and he pulls back, framing my face with his hands, thumbs brushing away the wet streaks. “Just promise me that you’ll let me know if you need me.”

I nod, sniffing.

“And the second you feel like you want to come back, you call me, and I’ll have you on the next plane out from wherever, straight back here. To me. Got it?”

I manage a shaky smile. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Anthony Paladino. Don’t you dare forget that.”

“Never.” He steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets again, his bright eyes glinting with something raw—pride, maybe, or just love. “Now, go enjoy your freedom.”

The jet’s engines whine louder, and I pick up Luna’s carrier, her little paws scrabbling against the sides. I take one last look at him—tall, steady, the boy who sat with me in the rain—and turn toward the plane, my heart breaking and mending all at once.

As I climb the steps, I hear him call, “Take care of Luna. She’s your wingman now!”

I laugh through the tears, waving back, and settle into the plush seat, Luna’s carrier on my lap. The jet lifts off, New York shrinking below, and I press my forehead to the window, watching him fade into a speck.

He’s a good man—the best—giving me wings when all I’ve known are chains. But as California looms closer, freedom tastes bittersweet, because I’m leaving the one person who’s ever truly seen me.

A church. Screams. Guns. Blood

Anthony’s body hitting the floor.

My best friend…gone.