Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Gael raced after Angela out of the cabin, watching her stride to where Evan was held down on the ground in front of the cars. He was a few steps behind her when she halted and glared down at the pathetic man who caused her a lot of pain.

Then, it all happened so fast. One second, she was scowling at Evan. The next, she'd yanked Trigger's gun that he kept behind him, and she instantly pointed it down, ready to shoot Evan.

Gael jolted forward, swallowing as he observed what she would do. Was it wrong that he was curious what she would actually do? Under any other circumstances—like he didn't need information from Evan first—he'd probably let her kill him. If anyone had the right to exact retribution, it was Angela.

However, he couldn't allow her to taint her hands. She was against violence in the first place. She told him this before—even after what the vile man did to her. Blood on her hands was the last thing he'd want. It was already bad enough that she was associated with him and his family, and it was another to actually take one's life. He didn't enjoy killing or torturing. But he'd get some sort of relief knowing those he killed got what they deserved.

But Leos didn't deserve a quick death. He'd have to suffer first.

***

The gun shook in Angela's hands, her finger making another swipe at the trigger. All images from the video were now vivid in her head as she glared down at Evan. Before today, she had no clear recollection of what happened that night. She knew she was scared, trapped, and probably thought she would die. The feeling of being terrified was there. It stayed with her for years, haunting her night and day. But the one thing that frustrated her was not being able to recall everything.

Perhaps Katherine was partly right. It was probably better if she hadn't seen the video so she wouldn't feel like she felt now—dirty, weak, and broken. But how could she truly move on if she didn't see? How could she exorcize the ghosts out of her if she didn't know what they were?

Looking at the man before her, Angela couldn't believe she once fell for his charms. Now all she wanted was revenge.

A warm, calloused hand covered hers, and a familiar scent wafted her nose when he pressed his front against her side and whispered to her, "Don't do this, baby…" His voice was gentle, almost pleading.

"He killed…" She gritted her teeth, not wanting to let all the words leave her mouth as if that would make it hurt less.

Gael pressed his forehead against her temple, and his other hand wrapped around her waist, squeezing. "I know. And he deserves to die." His voice was low like a murmur. "Not yet. But I'll make sure he'll pay for it."

Angela was quiet for a few beats, then her hands slacked, and she lowered them. He took the gun from her, then gave it back to Trigger, casting him a sharp glare for not being careful. Trigger was too careless around Angela, he didn't think she would do that. None of them did. Everyone around them watched but didn't do anything to stop her.

She turned to his chest, burying her face and gripping his shirt. Her body was still trembling—from anger, he supposed. And all he could do was wrap his arms around her frame and tighten his hold, making sure she felt safe in his arms. He rubbed her back in a soothing manner until she stopped shaking.

Gael took her back inside the cabin, the same people followed back in and the IT guy was also already waiting in his chair, straightening up when he saw them again in the living room.

This time, without waiting for Angela to stop him, he told Styles to delete the video. It only took a couple of seconds and then the thumbnail was gone. Just like that, the disturbing video was no longer available for streaming.

Gael brought Angela to the guest room and let her rest there. She didn't protest when he told her to lay down for a while.

A few moments later, he was back in the living room, and the big screen was already off. He tipped his chin at Giovanni and sat next to him on the couch.

"What are you gonna do with the sicko outside?" William asked.

"Tell me if you need someone to put sense into him, I'm happy to do it myself. I, of course, can't and won't guarantee he'd actually have one when I'm done with him," said Amelia as she casually checked her nails.

"I'm pretty riled up myself." Katherine folded her arms across her chest, her stare piercing through the wall—as if she could see through it and glare at Evan who was still bound and bent up on the ground outside. "These past few days have been very stressful. I could use a punching bag. Or maybe he wants to meet my blades. I'd be delighted to introduce them to his skin."

William made a face that said he was wary of the two women. Then he faced his cousin. "Damien… How could you ever sleep next to her? Doesn't it scare you that she could stab you in your sleep with her knives?"

Katherine cut him with a glare and he raised his hands up with a grin.

Damien slid his hands around Katherine's middle and placed a kiss on her cheek. "I can't sleep without her beside me. Also, she'd never do that to me. Would you, Kitten?"

She pulled a smile, subtly shaking her head before kissing the corner of his lips.

Gael watched them for a moment. It wasn't lost on him that Katherine and Amelia didn't look like normal girls. He could sense the lethality lurking in them—like anytime something goes wrong, they'd be ready for the apocalypse. He wanted to warn Angela about them earlier when he got the feeling that they didn't appear like they seemed to be. His gut told him there was something…unknown that lay beneath their eyes. They weren't innocent like Angela's.

Remembering William had asked him a question, he took a deep breath and leaned against the backrest. "We need to know where or how we could get to Filippo. We'll get it out of him."

Damien narrowed his eyes and slightly shifted so he was now standing next to Katherine, still keeping an arm around her. "What do you plan to do with him?"

Kill him.

Gael shrugged nonchalantly. "Have a friendly chat. He owes me something."

'He owes our family,' he thought. 'When he kidnapped Gabby after he sent his goons to kill me. And he owes me…because his right-hand man, Bruno, would never act on his own if Filippo didn't give the order to kill Jino.'

"And after that? After you get the information out of him?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided how I'm going to punish him yet. But we'll bring him out of Esmea for that. After all, the new agreement hasn't been finalized as of the moment."

Damien eyed him for a beat too long as if gauging him, and Gael didn't drop his stare, letting the other see the truth in his eyes. He might not openly admit his plans, but he wasn't afraid to show his intent. Damien nodded as if he accepted what he just said.

Wordlessly, Damien tipped his chin to Felix by the door. The latter disappeared outside the cabin for a minute and when he came back, a couple of William's men dragged Evan and tossed him in front of the fireplace.

"Take the sack off," ordered Damien, and immediately, one of them plucked it off Evan's head.

At first, Evan squinted from the light, his eyes scanning the room, surely wondering where he was. Then he slowly registered the faces around him. His brows knitted when he saw Gael and Giovanni, but when his eyes landed on the Parks, his eyes widened in confusion.

"Mr. Leos…" William called his attention.

As Evan slid his eyes to William, Damien stepped forward and said, "Don't look so baffled. Surely you had this coming the moment you and your father made a deal with the Morellis and started dealing on our turf."

Evan didn't respond—not that he could. His mouth was still stuffed with a dirty rag.

Looking bored, Damien turned around as he spoke, "Let it be known. The Parks are permitting the De Lucas to do with you as they wish, and you're not under our protection."

"You don't deserve amnesty after what you did to Angela over the years," added William.

The sound of metal clunk behind Evan and he tried to peer over his shoulder, but his awkward position didn't allow him.

Giovanni had been playing with the fire in the fireplace with a fire poker he'd left there since earlier, cinder sparkling here and there as he moved the wood around. "I was going to give you a speech," he told Evan, "…but talking to you will bore me the fuck out."

Gael got to his feet and received the fire poker that his uncle handed to him, the iron bar's tip glowing in bright orange.

He turned to Evan with a blank expression and asked, "Where will I find Filippo Morelli?"

Without waiting for an answer—not even a grunt, Gael pushed his shoe on Evan's neck and drove the searing hot metal's pointed tip straight to Evan's groin, making Evan scream his lungs out against the rag.

Gael asked the same question, and again, he didn't wait for an answer and simply repeated the process. He could remove the rag… He needed an answer, but he wasn't in a hurry at all. The others knew he was doing this out of revenge.. And they let him.

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