Don't toy with me: sexiest man of the year

A PUNISHMENT

Anthonio entered the room, his brows furrowed in a deep frown. His eyes locked onto Angela, who was being tended to by a doctor and a nurse. She had remained in this condition for two days now, her head wrapped in bandages and a cast around her neck. For some reason, it troubled him. Not because she was still unconscious, but... What was that feeling of possession he felt earlier? Jealousy? Never! That was not characteristic of him. Why would he care about what this woman says regarding her past? He was never the type to care even a little about the men these women had been with. He was a man uninterested in personal possessions. He would gladly share them. Yet, he seemed possessed by some spirit. Anthonio closed his eyes, placed his hand over his forehead, and cursed inwardly. “Was I drunk?” Slowly opening his eyes, he was suddenly struck by the image of a blonde woman's back. He opened his eyes wide. “Young Master?” His heart skipped a beat, and he glanced back at the caller in fear, his heart tense and heavy. The demeanor on his face made the nurse and doctor uneasy, and they exchanged nervous glances. “We… I… wanted to inform you that we are done,” the doctor said slowly, hoping not to provoke him. That face of his is not one you encounter every day; one must tread carefully. Anthonio blinked and attempted to straighten himself. “So, what's… what's the situation?” he asked, pulling out a cigar. “She is very fortunate, as there's no internal bleeding or serious injury. Her heart rate has returned to normal. She might wake up in about an hour,” the doctor replied apprehensively. “Good for her,” Anthonio mumbled, then turned to the nurse beside the doctor. “And you?” The nurse looked up, her heart skipping a beat. “I… I… did as you instructed, young master,” she responded. He gestured towards his cigar, and recognizing the signal, the doctor took a lighter from the table, lit his cigar, and stood on tiptoes. “You may leave,” Anthonio directed. The two bowed and exited the room. His side glance lingered on Angela.

THE EVENING

Angela opened her eyes and stared at the soft white mass above her. It was as pretty as the clouds, she thought, blinking her eyes as a pounding sensation throbbed in her temples. She slowly turned her head to the side, and the blue sky beyond the window and the curtains reassured her that she was still alive. Her gaze wandered around the room as she tried to recall where she was. The harder she tried to concentrate, the more confused she became. She decided to sit up, hoping it would help her stressed mind. With a slight groan, she attempted to move but couldn’t feel her body, as if paralyzed. She tried again, certain she was moving, but felt nothing. When the second attempt failed, an icy wave of fear gripped her, driving her to the brink. She tried to shake off the fear and overcome it but couldn't suppress the cry of anguish from her lips. Her cry was loud enough to attract someone. A lady dressed in white, clearly a nurse around her age, approached. “Good heavens! You are awake, how are you feeling, ma’am?” the nurse said, her face showing relief. “I feel terrible, my body hurts and I don’t think I can move at all, my head feels so heavy,” Angela stammered in fear, her voice croaking before she sobbed. The nurse gently touched her shoulder to comfort her. “I will get you a drink; it will help with your voice,” she said, and Angela nodded. She watched silently as the nurse fetched a bottle of water from the refrigerator by the wall and returned. “Here, have some,” she said softly, lifting Angela’s head slightly and holding a glass to her mouth, allowing only small sips. “Are you feeling better now, ma’am?” “A little, just that my head hurts,” Angela replied, then slowly lay back on the bed, her head elevated by the pillow, exhausted from the effort. “Now please, can you tell me where I am?” “You are home, ma’am. You are inside Montero's emergency room.” “The Monteros?” Her eyes widened; she remembered the incident the night she was about to go home after suffering from Anthonio’s abuse. “I was attacked by three men,” she cried, struggling to get up, but the nurse’s firm grip held her back. “They… they… touched… me!” Angela panicked. Her eyes widened as images of the men who had assaulted her flashed in her mind. “Someone was shooting!” She continued restlessly. “Please, ma’am, calm down. You need to rest, please,” the nurse tried to soothe her. Angela wanted to say many things but lacked the strength. She wept silently. “Please just tell me, nurse, those men… did they… was… I…?” she trailed off, unable to express her fears. “No, they didn’t rape you. Fortunately, young master Anthonio pursued you and was able to save you from them,” the nurse said gently. Angela's eyes widened in disbelief. “The unknown assassin was Anthonio?” “You are one lucky Montero, my lady. It would have been disastrous if they had succeeded; blackmailing a Montero would have been a huge blow to their criminal lives. Also, Sir Anthonio has been by your side all the time since two days ago. I was surprised because we’ve never seen him give so much attention to anyone other than his grandmother. I am certain he canceled important schedules to be with you.” Angela frowned, unimpressed by that statement; he was the reason she was in this predicament after all. The door opened, and Antonio entered, dominating the room with his strong presence, standing tall by the door. Angela's tearful eyes met his furious ones. The nurse bowed and excused them. He appeared calm until he walked to her bedside. “Not a pretty bad sight, much better than when I saved you. It could have been worse.” “There’s nothing worse than you,” Angela snapped immediately, but deep down, she knew he was right. “What were you thinking! Trying to run away from me after a contract. We agreed that you would be available to me at all times.” Angela couldn’t meet his eyes. He was right; she shouldn’t have run away. She accepted that and what followed. She became scared and fled like a sixteen-year-old virgin. She lowered her gaze as tears welled up in her eyes. “Don’t ignore me!” Anthonio's voice roared. “Thank you...” Angela muttered. “Huh?” Anthonio thought he heard wrong. “I was so scared I thought I wouldn't live again. I would never see Jace or the twins again…you saved me, thank you, Mr. Anthonio.” She finally mustered the courage to look at him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Thank you!” This time she burst into tears. “Are you alright? I hope you didn’t get hurt, did you?” she sobbed. Anthonio stopped and looked at her as if spellbound, too stunned to speak. He scoffed. “Hurt? Look who's worried about me. You look as good as dead. Don’t think I did this for you, Freckles. I haven’t found a replacement that Grandma accepts. You’re lucky; maybe next time you’ll be dead meat.” He folded his hands and sat down on the couch beside the bed, frowning deeply. “I have never been so terrified in my life,” Angela continued crying. “If you don’t stop crying, I will give you a real reason to.”