Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

The look on Gael's face when Angela met his gaze told her that he was relieved to see her again. He had whispered her name, and the sound of it tickled her heart.

She came by to talk about the characters in the story she wrote with Becca and the manager. After a long time of consideration in the last few weeks, she decided to trust one more person from the company who swore not to divulge her identity to anyone else. So that day, she was supposed to meet the manager. But who would have thought she would end up running into Gael here out of all places?

It had been two days since the last time she had seen him. She honestly thought he had already left the country by now after their conversation last Friday. So what was he still doing here in Mayne?

And did he have to look so… hot?

He could have worn something ugly.

She kicked herself in her mind, saying how ridiculous she was. Gael wasn't wearing anything unusual at all. A casual outfit of jeans, a white shirt, and a black leather jacket covered his body. Something that any other men would wear—only Gael looked like a rebel and rocked it. If someone wore the same outfit and stood next to him, they'd probably look like an outcast Oompa Loompa. 

What was she bîtchin' about? Her mind had taken a stroll, and she guessed it was her way of not wanting to deal with this situation that she was in.

But she wasn't going to run away. Instead, Angela took steady steps forward in their direction, holding his gaze like he was holding hers. She then remembered the last night they saw each other when she said some hurtful things to him. The thought of it made her swallow. She had to say it. It was the only way to make him stop, given that she had already told him to leave.

A staff member from the studio called Becca's attention, so she turned to Angela and told her, "I just need to talk to the director. I'll be right back."

"How are you?" Gael asked as soon as they were left alone.

"I'm okay." Angela nodded and stood next to him, the two of them facing their cars. 

There was a good one-foot distance between them, yet even then, she could still smell his familiar scent. It was a woody and heady center—such a masculine and sensual scent. She almost wanted to scold him for wearing such perfume out in the open where everybody could smell him.

She had the urge to turn around and head inside the studio because standing next to him like this made her feel things she wasn't supposed to feel. But at the same time, she didn't want to move an inch.

The door behind them opened, and he took a side step towards her to give way to someone exiting the studio. The one-foot distance between them disappeared, and they were now shoulder to shoulder—well not really, she was eye to shoulder with him as he was friggin' tall and she was wearing sneakers.

Angela cleared her throat at the same time that she cleared her thoughts. "You?"

"Sorry?"

"You… How are you?" she asked, thinking it was rude of her that she didn't return the question.

"Oh. I'm fine."

The air was quiet again. She glanced at him and just as he dug his hands in his pockets and clenched his jaw tight as though he was forcing himself not to say anything.

"How long are you in town?" Angela just had to ask. Why not? She had to know if she would keep bumping into him like this in the next few days.

"Not sure… Depends on how long it takes."

"How long what takes?"

'You,' he thought but didn't dare to say. "Working on a… project."

She studied his face and didn't see anything suspicious—not that she cared. He could do whatever he wanted. "I see."

"What are you doing here?"

"I have a meeting. For my book."

"I heard you signed a great deal with them. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Don't go inside the first room to the left."

"What? Why?"

"Just…" Gael rotated his neck from side to side when he felt it stiffen at the memory of the naked men. "Just don't."

Angela gave him a weird look, her brows furrowed in confusion. She was now curious about what was in the first room, but then she responded, "Okay…" trusting him even though he didn't elaborate on what in there.

"Are you still mad at me?"

His sudden question made her heart jump. She was only taking it easy, making casual conversation with him, but then he went and asked the question. Her toes curled inside her shoes, and then she wrapped herself tightly with her oversized coat. 

"I'm not mad at you, Gael. Not anymore." Her heart started to race as she spoke. "I've been over it before you arrived. I was just not in the mood last Friday and talking about the past just—I didn't like it." She sighed.

"So we're talking again?"

"Depends. Are you going to tell me what happened?"

Shît. And then there was that. He still owed her an explanation of why he was MIA for the past three months.

She met his gaze and saw his jaw tick at her question. It was surely a topic he didn't want to talk about with her. Why did she even bother?

Taking a deep breath, Angela raised her chin, looking poised as she turned to face front. "Listen… I understand why you wanted revenge. Because I did something I shouldn't. I admit that I was wrong. And I already apologized for that. I know a simple apology probably isn't enough for what I did.

"But you played me. I was fine on my own and not be close to you when we were stuck on the island, yet you approached me. I know my brother asked you, but you could've ignored him—I'm not a child. I could take care of myself. You already hated me enough, so you didn't have a reason. You did plan to get your revenge on me—that I know now. And you can't tell me you didn't make a move because we both know you did—"

"So did you," he interrupted, his tone was low, but it wasn't harsh.

"Yes, I did." Angela did not deny it. She turned her body until they were face to face, her eyes unwavering as she gazed back at him. "But the thing is, it was the real me. I was honest and true. Were you?"

Gael's stare never left hers. "I swear to you, Angela. I was."

She shrugged. "I wouldn't know. It felt real… But who knows?"

Feeling a warm hand enclosing hers, her knees almost buckled. She could retract her hand, but she allowed him to touch her. The warmth of his hand felt so nice. She honestly didn't want to let go.

"What do I have to do for you to believe me?" he prodded.

"Why does it matter if I believe you or not, Gael? You already told me this isn't going to work. So why are you working so hard?"

Everything he said came back to him, and he suffered a huge blow. Gael briefly squeezed his eyes shut, and when he opened them again, he spoke with firm persistence, "I want a do-over."

A what? This man wants a do-over? She was just about to answer when someone spoke behind him.

"Excuse me, Angela?" Becca poked her head from the door and waved to her. "We're ready for you."

Angela nodded and told the other she would follow. Once she faced Gael, she had already composed herself. "I should go."

She walked past him, but he refused to let go of her hand until she gently tugged it away.

"I will call you."

"That's what you said three months ago," she muttered in almost a whisper, but he heard her anyway.