Chapter 8

Angel's POV

The mall was breathtaking.

Bright lights illuminated the endless array of stores, their windows adorned with elegant displays and delicate mannequins dressed in beautiful fabrics. The soft hum of chatter filled the air, blending with the distant sound of laughter and the occasional rustle of shopping bags.

But none of it eased the tight knot in my stomach.

My fingers clutched onto the fabric of Alessio's shirt as I felt eyes on me.

A stranger—a man—was staring.

My breath hitched. My grip tightened. Fear gripped my chest.

Before the panic could take over, a deep voice rumbled beside me, low and commanding—

"Shush, mamacita."

Lucifer.

The moment he spoke, a strange sense of security washed over me, as if the mere sound of his voice was enough to shield me from everything.

I looked up at him, and he gave me a small, knowing smile.

"What do you want to shop for first?" he asked, his voice softer now, his fingers idly drawing slow, teasing circles on the small of my waist.

A warmth spread through me. Different. New. Unfamiliar.

I swallowed.

"Clothes," I mumbled.

He nodded and led us into a luxurious store—the kind I had only ever seen from a distance.

Every inch of it screamed rich. The soft, golden lighting, the polished marble floors, the velvet seats that looked untouched, as if they had never known exhaustion.

I hesitated, pulling at his shirt.

His gaze snapped to mine immediately.

"The clothes here must be expensive," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper as I took in the extravagant dresses lined neatly on golden racks.

A small smirk played on his lips.

"You don't worry about that, mi preciosa," he said without pause and kept walking, his grip firm, unyielding.

I barely had a moment to process before he tugged me down onto the plush sofa beside him.

His strong arm rested over my shoulders, anchoring me in place.

Then, his voice turned sharp, deadly.

"Get ma'am the latest designs," he ordered an attendant, not even sparing her a glance. "And make sure they are the comfiest."

The woman bowed quickly, her movements fast, precise, obedient.

"Yes, sir," she said before vanishing.

I watched her retreating figure, a strange pang forming in my chest.

"I used to work like this too," I mumbled, barely realizing I had spoken aloud. "It's scary when the customer is so emotionless."

Alessio stilled.

Then, in the next second, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close against his chest.

A deep, steady warmth seeped into my skin, chasing away the lingering cold in my bones.

"From now on, you won't have to be scared of anyone," he murmured, his voice like silk, smooth and comforting.

His fingers threaded through my hair, his touch so gentle, so careful, as if he knew how easily I could break.

A soft hum escaped my lips, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Too fast. Too much. Why?

Why did my chest feel tight whenever he was near?

Why did my stomach twist in strange, unfamiliar ways whenever he spoke?

Why did his touch leave heat in its wake—not the kind that burned with fear, but something else entirely?

I forced myself to look away, convincing myself it was nothing.

I was just imagining things.

…Right?

Author's POV

Alessio adjusted the shopping bags in one hand while his other rested protectively on her lower back. His touch was light, yet firm—a silent reassurance.

"My precious, are you sure you don't want anything more?" he asked—for the nth time.

Angel sighed, exasperated but fond.

"I am sure!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "You already bought too much for me. I won't even need some of these things!"

Alessio chuckled at her frustration. So innocent. So unaware of her worth.

"Nothing is too much when it's for you, mi preciosa," he murmured, his tone soft but unwavering.

Her lips jutted into a small pout.

"But it's so wasteful…" she mumbled, her brows furrowing slightly.

Alessio's gaze softened. Even after all she had been through, she still thought like this?

"Mmm… When you're done using them, we can give them away, si?" he offered, watching her closely.

Her eyes lit up.

"Yes!" she said eagerly, a bright smile spreading across her face.

Alessio felt something deep in his chest tighten. That smile. So pure. So full of life. He would burn the world to keep it there.

His voice turned even gentler.

"You must be tired from all the walking, my precious," he murmured, his hand brushing her cheek tenderly. "Let me carry you to the car, si?"

Angel blinked.

She knew there was no point arguing. Alessio never took no for an answer.

So, with a small nod, she gave in.

Effortlessly, he scooped her up in his strong arms, cradling her as if she weighed nothing.

But instead of heading toward the car, he turned in a different direction.

Angel's brows furrowed in confusion as she looked around at the beautiful place they were now approaching. Soft golden lights, an elegant outdoor seating area, the faint scent of fresh herbs and warm bread in the air.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, tilting her head.

Alessio's lips twitched into a knowing smirk.

"It's lunchtime, my precious," he murmured as he gently set her down onto a plush chair. He took the seat across from her, his piercing eyes never leaving her.

"And I know you're hungry."

Angel swallowed, heart skipping a beat.

How did he always know?

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