Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 271: Angela’s Naughty Plan

The chamber was heavy with the stench of terror—a mix of Tyler’s perspiration, Nathalie’s floral scent, and the lingering metallic smell of blood on Angela’s skin.

Nathalie’s breathing became ragged as Angela’s confession struck her, and the color drained from her cheeks. "You killed him?" she stammered, her fingers clutching Tyler’s shoulders as if he were her only anchor to reality. Her gaze scanned Angela’s features, searching for any sign of a lie that would end this nightmare.

Angela offered no such comfort.

Instead, a mocking laugh escaped her, and her lips twisted into a jagged, cruel smile. "Do not play the part of the heartbroken widow with me," she spat, her voice saturated with malice.

"Stop pretending you weren't aware of the beast your husband was. Think of the souls he crushed and the families he ruined." Angela stepped forward, the sharp click of her heels echoing against the marble floor as her presence loomed over Nathalie like a gathering storm.

"My only regret is that his death was too swift. He should have endured the same agony he inflicted on me—and on my daughter." For a brief moment, her voice faltered, raw suffering visible in her eyes before she masked it behind a wall of ice. "But I will ensure his son pays for every single moment of it."

Tyler’s breath was shallow and desperate as his body shook against his mother. His eyes were bloodshot and wide with horror as the weight of Angela’s words settled on him. "No," he managed to choke out through his panic.

"No, please—Angela, I’m telling the truth—" He clawed at the bedsheets, his hands trembling so violently he could hardly keep his grip.

"I never did anything to you. I didn't touch you. I didn't even want to—" His speech collapsed into a frantic sob, tears flowing as he pleaded for his life. "Please, just let me go. I don't deserve this."

Angela’s grin remained fixed, growing even more frigid. "Oh, you certainly do," she replied, her words slow and cutting. "Do you think I’m ignorant of the plans you and your father had for me? The things you intended to do?" She tilted her head, observing him with pure revulsion.

"The sole reason I am breathing is that your father required my intellect and my skills. Without that, I would have been nothing more than another toy for you to break and throw away." Her voice sank to a whisper, a sound more terrifying than a scream.

Nathalie’s breath came in sharp hitches. She let go of Tyler and dropped to her knees before Angela, her hands pressed together in a desperate prayer. "I’m begging you," she cried out, her tears splashing onto the cold marble.

"Angela, please. He is my son. He is the only thing I have left." She reached out, her shaking fingers grazing Angela’s coat.

"I had no idea what Walter was doing. I didn't know Tyler was involved. I swear, I will do anything. Whatever you demand. Just spare him."

Angela stared down at the kneeling woman with a look of icy detachment. "Anything?" she questioned, her tone thick with doubt. "Do you believe your begging matters to me after what your family stole?"

Nathalie’s frame was racked with sobs as she pressed her forehead against Angela’s knees. "I will give you everything. My wealth, my connections, whatever it takes. Just let him live. He’s only a boy; he didn't understand what he was doing." She looked up, her eyes red and puffy. "We will leave this place and vanish. You will never have to see us again. Please, don't take my son."

Tyler watched his mother, his own face wet with tears. "Mom, don't—" His voice was faint and broken. "Don't beg her. She won't listen."

Angela’s eyes moved between the two, her expression remaining hard. "You think I value your money or your oaths?" She reached down, grabbing Nathalie’s chin to force their eyes to meet.

"You possessed everything—a family and a life—while my daughter was shattered and I was used like garbage." Her voice was a low, venomous hiss. "Do you truly think your pain is comparable to mine?"

Nathalie did not flinch, even as the grip on her chin tightened. "I know it isn't," she whispered, her voice nearly fading away. "But I am begging you as one mother to another. Don't force me to watch my son die. Don't make me bury another person I love."

Tyler made a strangled sound, his body jerking as if he had been physically struck by the words. "Mother," he wailed in terror.

"Mother, please!" He turned toward Nathalie, his face a mask of pure panic as he gripped her arms like a man drowning. "Don't let her. Don't let her take me!"

Nathalie’s breath hitched as she looked between Angela and me. Her gaze settled on me as I stood there—silent, observing, and smiling. "You are monsters," she whispered, her voice shaking. "Both of you. You’re sick."

Angela finally let go of Nathalie, shoving her away with a cold, indifferent shrug. "And now," she said, her voice sounding like a dark oath, "you won't even have him."

Nathalie slumped forward, her hands grasping at Angela’s feet as she was consumed by sobs. "No," she gasped, her voice breaking into a primal, shattered cry. "Please. I will do anything. Anything at all. Just don't do this."

Angela’s eyes drifted away from the weeping woman for a moment, landing on me as I sat on the sofa. A slow, calculating grin appeared on her face.

She turned back to Nathalie, her voice dripping with a mocking sense of pity. "Fine... as a mother, I can sympathize with you." She hesitated, letting the silence hang like a sharpened blade. "I will give you a single chance."

Nathalie’s breath caught, a small glimmer of hope appearing in her eyes. She nodded frantically, her fingers still clutching Angela’s shoes as if they were a lifeline.

But then Angela’s grin turned wicked, and her voice became like ice as she pointed toward me. "Do you see him? He is my man. All you have to do is satisfy him... and I will let your son live." She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with sadistic joy. "What is your answer?"

Nathalie’s face went white, her entire body stiffening. "You—" Her voice shook with a combination of rage and loathing. "I would rather die than commit adultery."

Angela’s smile remained unmoved. If anything, it grew wider and more mocking. "That is truly a pity." She let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head in feigned disappointment. "It seems your son is destined to die, then."

Nathalie’s breathing became fast and ragged as her eyes darted between Angela and me, her face a chaotic mix of terror and pride. "You are evil," she whispered, her voice raw. "You aren't a mother. You’re a monster."

Angela laughed, a sound that was both cold and empty. "Perhaps. But I am the one with all the power." She leaned down, her voice dropping to a poisonous whisper. "The clock is ticking, Nathalie. Make your choice. Your son’s life is in your hands."