Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

How do you tell someone that he's not "the one"?

That he has everything a woman could ever ask for from a partner, and yet, he's not "the one"?

Not your one.

That he's a dream guy, but he's not "your" dream guy?

That no matter what he would do, he won't ever be "yours" and you would never be "his"?

Not anymore.

Angela knew that Andy didn't ask to meet that day because he was still hoping for something between them. Before today, she might have thought that was possible. But the moment they saw each other that afternoon, she noticed the way he looked at her.

It wasn't the same gaze he gave when he lovingly watched her.

It wasn't the same gaze he gave when he kissed her, when he hugged her, when they did more than just those things.

He had the same eyes but held a different gaze.

His eyes didn't harbor hate and for that, she was thankful—even though for a time, she hated what she did to him.

She tried to read what he thought of her—perhaps familiarity? Maybe a little regret or a hint of "tsk". Maybe still a bit of love.

It was strange for Angela that she sat across Andy and not feel "nothing" but also not "something". 

Because at one point in her life, she shared herself with the man who accepted her despite the criticisms she faced after Evan publicly ruined her from that club incident and the events after that.

Now, she looked at him, and there was this strange sense of liberation. It made her wonder if how she was looking at him now was the same as how she saw him looking at her.

Because for once, Angela thought she could actually be friends with Andy after everything that happened between them.

***

It had been nearly an hour since Angela met McHandsy at the cafe—and a century since Gael sat in the car watching them… At least, it felt like it was that long.

"You think they're planning their wedding now?" Trigger mumbled with his eyes closed. He had reclined the seat and was casually resting. "The fuck else are they taking so long then?"

Gael thought it was a mistake taking Trigger with him and not Rick. The latter had some important matters Gael asked him to do, so he was stuck with the other one. He forgot how irritating Trigger could be—he didn't get his name for nothing. It wasn't only because guns were his specialty. Gabriella and J started calling him that several years ago when he stirred up trouble and enjoyed it.

Gael was tapping his phone screen about to check on Angela when he noticed some movements inside the cafe. Looking up, he watched as McHandsy and Angela got to their feet, McHandsy pulled her into a hug, and she hesitated before wrapping her arms around him.

"Fuck," Trigger muttered next to Gael.

And yes, indeed. Fuck. Gael drew his brows together while gripping his phone tightly in his hand, flare burning within him. He wanted to barge inside and rip them apart.

He straightened his spine, his teeth nearly cracking from grinding so hard. Their embrace was tight and natural, and their bodies were angled in a way that their faces couldn't be seen through the window, making it harder for Gael to read them both.

When they pulled apart, fucking McHandsy leaned in and kissed her forehead. Gael was about to lose his shit—an angry vein on his temple was about to pop and the tip of his brow twitched from frustration. Just what else was that fucker going to do?

"Boss…" Trigger called tentatively, knowing that Gael was truly not in the mood to joke.

Angela exited the cafe and crossed the street, leaving Andrew at the door. The air was silent when she got in the car and sat next to Gael in the backseat. She kissed his cheek and interlaced their hands together as she laid her head on his shoulder. They didn't exchange any words, but she kept watching him as if trying to measure his mood while he kept his stare ahead, only giving Trigger a small signal to start the car.

The entire ride was solemn—sort of. Trigger swallowed audibly a few times, glancing at the backseat through the rear-view mirror now and then. Gone was his playful side.

***

Gael was angry. Understandably.

And Angela didn't push him to talk as soon as she returned to him in the car. She was certain he watched everything through the window and saw Andy giving her a hug and a kiss. It would be a lie to say she didn't like the gesture her ex-boyfriend did—she didn't feel repulsed. It was actually sweet and familiar but not romantic.

They were right. Andrew needed the talk with her. But then she realized that she needed it as much as he did too.

Now that that's over, it's time to appease the sexy devil.

Gael told his men to leave them alone tonight. They were still nearby, but no one was allowed to disturb them.

Even though Gael and Angela hadn't talked yet, she was already aware of what was about to happen.

And just thinking about it made her clench her thighs together as they rode up the elevator to their floor. She was drenched.

He walked slightly ahead of Angela as they entered the apartment, his expression cold and dangerous, making him look even more devilishly handsome—even from behind.

"Are you angry?" Angela probed.

"Angry?" He softly chuckled as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. "You have no idea how I'm feeling."

"Why don't you tell me how you're feeling?"

Gael slightly turned his head sideways without looking at her as if he didn't want to meet her gaze. She was still standing behind him. "You really think I want to talk right now?"

"What do you want to do instead?"

His jaw ticked. "Stop talking, Angel." He slowly turned around as he told her, "Strip your fucking clothes…off…" His voice became almost a whisper when he found Angela standing before him completely and fucking deliciously naked, not more than four feet away.

"You mean like this?" She tilted her head to the side and then gave herself a glance, not one bit embarrassed that she was bare naked.

Gael grunted. It turned out that his naughty Angel had started stripping her clothes from the moment she closed the door, leaving a trail of clothes from the foyer, past the hallway, and into the living room.

Her perky pink nipples pierced the air, goosebumps dotting around her bare chest as she sauntered towards him. Her tits lightly bounced, egging him to take them into his mouth. 

Angela was a fucking seductress—a walking sin. And she's all his. 

He had memorized every inch of her and would recognize her with his eyes closed.

"Aren't you sore?" he murmured as Angela began unbuckling his belt.

And fûck. He could smell her arousal, causing his erection to strain in his boxers.

"And whose fault is that? Also… Why are you still dressed? I thought you didn't want to talk right now. Weren't you going to show me what you want to do?"

A corner of Gael's lips curled up into a sexy smirk from the challenge. Did she think she was going to get away with it?

He grabbed her hand before she reached into his boxers and tugged her flush against him. "Oh, I'll show you, Angel." He smashed his lips against hers, plunging his tongue into her mouth and tasting her thoroughly—sweet and coffee.

Just as she kissed back, Gael pulled away and looked at her with heated gaze before placing a hand on her shoulder and wordlessly pushing her down to her knees. She willingly knelt before him and watched as he took out his cock and aligned it with her lips. He held the back of her head, his eyes glazing over as he said, "It's gonna be a long night, baby."

"I'm looking forward to it." Angela smiled before taking him all into her mouth.

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