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   Chapter 34 Bleeding out

Mr. Regnante By Serena B. Light Characters: 14609

Updated: 2018-10-16 10:53


The gaping wound to Arcangelo's side gave him trouble throughout. He felt pain and he had to hold on. He was even sure of losing quite a bit of blood, but that flow was obstructed by the bandage coiled around his torso. He couldn't remember most of the drive since it was all such a blur of whizzing scenery, wiping sweat out of his eyes, driving through the haze of pain and the constant thundering of his heart. He was extremely lucky for it to be a non-fatal wound, but that did not mean he was alright.

He would live, that much was certain.

Unless...he went into shock.

That thought didn't even cross his mind as him and his men all skidded to a stop before the Allegro's household. With a pained grunt, he pulled himself out the car and closed the door, tenderly coddling his side.

"Boss, I don't think-" Major started to protest as Arcangelo held up a hand to silence him.

He looked at the scene before him.

One of Rosalie's guards lying in the driveway with his neck twisted in a grotesque fashion, his eyes wide with surprise and just as dead.

Inhaling deeply, Arcangelo bit back the cry of pain as he realized he even had a broken rib, perhaps even a dislocated shoulder with the searing pain to his collarbone. Limping forward, he watched as two men went to the dead guard, others following him.

Three men went through the kicked down door before him, Arcangelo following behind despite Gun's protests of the area not having been cleared.

The scene made him sick.

There ware bullet casing littering the floor, glass shards everywhere as the furniture was riddled with holes. The table had been upturned, seemingly having been used as protection given the splintering of the wood. Plates, bowls and wine glasses lay across the floor as nothing more than remnants and not a single living soul was in sight.

Then again, neither was there any drop of blood visible so far.

"Sir!" A voice called from somewhere as Arcangelo's gaze shot up. "Found the parents and brother."

"Are they alright?" Arcangelo called back, struggling to keep composure with the white hotness spreading through him.

"The mother and brother had been locked up, and the father is knocked out. All three are unharmed!"

"Then where's Rosalie?" He muttered to himself as he saw the signs of a struggle leading towards the staircase.

Grabbing hold of the banister, Arcangelo heaved himself up, the pain intensifying with every move that he made. He felt his hands become clammy against the wooden structure. His heart beating erratically as a sense of foreboding overcame him, his breathing increasing as he didn't know if it was due to the fear of the unknown, or the anxiety of the possibilities.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was bleeding again.

He saw the blood by the second last step. A few drops, like a punch to the nose. As he walked forward, his head started to spin and he could have sworn the floor shifted beneath his feet. With a startled gasp, he held onto the wall, both Major and Gun stepping forward and supporting him.

"Sir, please..." One of them pleaded, his voice sounding distant to Arcangelo's ears.

"Rosalie..." he muttered in remembrance, swatting them away before trailing his blood-soaked hand across the wall until he arrived at the door opening.

The room must have been her bedroom because it had a touch of her and smelt of her perfume. But it also smelt of death and blood. Resisting the instinct to gag, Arcangelo noticed the feet of the second guard, half of his body hidden by the bed.

Struggling to stand straight, Arcangelo's head spun as he stumbled forward. He watched the dead guard, trailing up from his feet and tried to find the cause of death. However, the pool of blood around his head was a clear indication of a bullet to the head.

In that pool of blood, a single shoe was bathed. Looking up, he noticed the paleness of her skin, the way she had a gun grasped in her fingers and blood blossomed from her chest, her hand pressing down on the wound to stem the blood flow.

"Princess..." Arcangelo choked as he fell to his knees before her, his pain residing in the back of his mind as he cupped her ashen face into his blood-soaked hands. "Hey, princess..."

"You came..." She wheezed, giving him a teasing smile through her suffering. "You missed the fight."

"But you held y

the dead of night with no comfort whatsoever. God wasn't there when she wept and begged, asking 'why me?' God wasn't there when she got assaulted on her way back home, being left with a permanent reminder of the night..."

"God wasn't there when my doctors patched her up. He wasn't there when she was physically terrified of me. He wasn't there when she made her way into the hearts of my niece and nephew. He wasn't there when she made her way into my heart. He wasn't there at the training I put her through in fear of a repeated occurrence. He wasn't there when her friends broke off contact because, I quote, "we don't recognize you anymore". God wasn't there when she suffered through all that she did and still remained as strong as she has. God wasn't there when she would come to me in search of comfort."

"God wasn't there when I told her about all the sins I have committed. God didn't make her stay. God didn't make her pursue a matter I had long left. God wasn't there when I had a major falling out with my best friend of over twenty years...."

"God wasn't there, but she sure as hell was."

"So instead do saying 'may God be with you', Mr. Allegro, say 'may she be with you'."

The three stared at him in pure shock at his open blasphemy. He was born to a Catholic mother, but that did not mean he himself was a Catholic. He did not believe in the concept of God. Call him a heathen if you will, but he wasn't going to put all the good and bad of his life in the hands of a higher power no one has ever seen, but blindly believe in.

"Once more, Mr. and Mrs. Allegro, forgive me for my blasphemy, but I do not believe in a higher power. I do, on the other hand, believe in her."

The family sat back quietly, a tense silence washing over them as they could not enforce their religious views on a man his age. They were rather open-minded, but this was the first time they've actually encountered an atheist.

"Y-you...." the brother stammered, seemingly realizing something. "My mum told you our first names, not our surnames."

The parents also grasped that he had referred to them as 'Mr. and Mrs. Allegro' rather than their first names and they had not divulged that information.

"How do you know our names?" Mrs. Allegro demanded as the father instantly had her and Davide stand up and away from the man before them as he shielded them like Arcangelo was some sort of threat.

"She talks a lot about you three, particularly adores Davide's antics." Arcangelo chuckled lightly as he took a sip of his coffee, realizing it had gone cold.

"What?" The father asked in bewilderment.

"My girlfriend, Sir." Arcangelo clarified as the family looked at him as if though he had grown another head.

"My girlfriend is no other than your daughter, Mr. Allegro." He continued as the family looked at him with varying degrees of shock and disbelief.

"I'm Rosalie's boyfriend."

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