Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

"Angel…" the bastard whispered. 

Angela used to like how he called her that, but now—a painful tightness in her chest caused her muscles to weaken. Her mind churned so fast, thinking about a hundred ways to give a comeback to his irritating words. After three months of being AWOL, he had the nerve to remark on her choice of drink? That's the first thing he chose to say to her?

She was so pissed to see him that she wanted to lash out, but even the thought of screaming at him made her think it wasn't worthy. 'What for, Angela? You're over him, remember?' she thought. The voice in her head reminded her, yet it sounded as though she wasn't sure.

Her hand subconsciously gripped the warm cup, and for a second, Gael thought that she would throw the hot coffee at him. The way she glared was apparent enough to notice how much she wanted to do so. And if he was being honest with himself, he might even let her if that would make everything better.

With so many things going on in her head, Angela settled with a scoff and a shake of her head in disbelief. She had already exhausted herself trying to forget about him for the last three months and now that he was there right in front of her, she forgot everything that she wanted to tell him. Wordlessly, she walked past him as she headed out of the cafe, her shoulders lightly brushing with his suit jacket.

Gael tried to grab her hand, but he missed it. "Angela," he called as he followed her out of the cafe.

Wanting to get away from him, she took hurried steps on the sidewalk where pedestrians came from different directions. The cappuccino sloshed in her cup and slightly spilled, but she didn't care when the hot liquid scalded her thumb. She had to walk faster—as if doing so will make him stop following her.

"Wait," he said just as he finally caught up with her, his large hand swallowing hers.

Angela halted in her tracks. His familiar touch sent numbing jolts that ran through her arm, but it burned more than it felt good. She had the urge to squeeze his hand, but she snapped before she could even do so and retracted her hand from his grip.

"What do you want?!" Her voice was loud and sharp, like a pointed knife driving straight through his heart.

Even with just those four words, Gael was sure that she was so close to murdering him. And he believed he deserved it—which was why his voice was gentle and apologetic when he said, "I just want to talk…"

Contrary to what he expected, Angela's surprised look turned into an amused one, and she let out a guttural laugh as if she had just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world. 

"Talk?" She had a haughty smile that didn't reach her eyes when she bit out. Her expressive brown eyes scanned his tall figure—she was making sure that he was okay and if he hadn't hit his head somewhere. Then she arched a brow as she questioned, "About what? How you forgot to call… Or how you left me hanging? How about how you broke your promise? Geez… There are so many things—what exactly do you want to talk about, Gael?"

Clenching and unclenching his hand, he lowered his gaze before meeting hers again. "It's… complicated," was all he could say.

Hearing the words that just left his mouth made Angela feel even more hurt. She couldn't believe that for a man who was so full of himself, so confident, and always so sure could only utter those words. "That's it? You think telling me that 'it's complicated' would somehow make me feel better?" She shook her head. That wasn't what she wanted to hear. "I have to go. Goodbye."

She turned around and walked away, ignoring his calls behind her.

"Angela, wait! Will you just—"

"Stop following me!" She was surprised when she realized that he was already walking beside her. His legs were too long that her fast strides seemed useless. Annoyed, she bit out her questions while hastening her steps, "How did you even find me? How did you know where I was?!"

Gael wasn't even breathless when he answered, "I made some calls—"

"Ha! You can make calls when you want to stalk someone? How convenient!" Angela gave him a deathly glance as she snorted and walked even faster, maneuvering her way through the crowd, thankful that she was wearing her running shoes.

"Will you just—please, let's talk." He wrapped his hand around her arm to stop her; his grasp was controlled as to not hurt her with his strength. But he let go of her anyway when she snapped her head towards him.

He was strong, and if he hadn't released her, she was sure that she would bruise. But she would be lying to herself if she said she didn't miss his touch. 'Don't be stupid, Angela. You know what he did to you. Walk away,' she thought.

And thus, she turned on her heel. To her surprise, she had already reached her block. All she had to do was turn at the corner and enter the building. But just as she took a right turn, she bumped into a man riding a skateboard—and to add to her already wonderful afternoon, the collision caused the coffee to spill onto her chest.

"Aahhh!!!" Angela whimpered when the hot liquid seared her skin. "Mother f—lying dolphins!!!"

Everything happened so fast that even Gael, who was just right behind her, didn't get the chance to pull her out of the way. He had reached out, but his hands barely grazed her arms when the accident already happened. 

"Angela! Shît! Are you okay?" He immediately grabbed hold of her, his eyes quickly scanning her front and seeing the reddened skin below her neck. "You're hurt!" he worried, whipping out a white handkerchief from his pocket. 

Then, his grey eyes darkened as he looked at one of his men over her shoulder. His eyes barely moved, but his men already understood what he meant as they instantly scattered and went after the one who just bumped Angela.

"I'm fine! Let me go." She stepped back from his hold, and then harshly tossed the cup into a bin on the side of the road. Today was definitely not her day.

"Let me get you to the hospital." Gael followed after her as she walked towards the entrance of her building.

Angela met the concerned look of the building's doorman, Arthur, who saw the whole thing from a distance. He was an older man in his sixties who had been working here for decades. She flashed him a small smile as if to say that she was 'okay' before turning back to Gael who abruptly stopped when she faced him.

"You don't have to worry about me, Mr. De Luca. I can take care of myself." Then, she turned around without waiting for his response and spoke to Arthur in a loud enough voice for Gael to hear, "Arthur, please don't let this man in. He's a crook." And then she entered the building with her chin up.

Gael stood rooted by the door, his stare following Angela as she stepped inside the elevator without looking back at him.

He was speechless for a second before a chuckle escaped his lips. With his hands on his waist, he glanced at Arthur who gave him an apologetic look. Gael couldn't believe what just happened.

A limousine stopped on the roadside a few steps away from him. He contemplated, but having no choice, he got in the vehicle and left the area.