Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance
Gael was surprised to wake up five minutes to nine in the morning. He thought he'd end up having a sleepless night after the conversation he had with his father—especially after that question. He held back and didn't answer without knowing why. It should have been easy; a no-brainer. Angela was very important to him, so there shouldn't even be a question if she was worth it.
When he arrived home at three in the morning, he crashed into his bed and passed out. Then his alarm clock blared from the nightstand, jerking him right off the bed groaning because of a heavy headache. Padding towards the bathroom to relieve himself, he quickly took a shower and then changed into a fresh set of suit. He'd be visiting his mother in the cemetery today, so dressing up was a must.
He scanned himself on the mirror, flattening the black polka dotted tie that his mother gave him when he was a teenager. He'd worn it with a black shirt under a three-piece maroon suit. Running his fingers through his neatly slicked-back hair, he thought he'd get a haircut as it had grown longer—a little past his ears now. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.
His phone buzzed. It was another reminder that he had to leave to pick up his father and sister from Nonna Flavia's. Apart from the reminder, a few emails, and some text messages from friends and family, he hadn't heard from Angela yet. He began to get a little anxious, but given that it was Christmas, he calmed himself into thinking she was busy with her family.
The visit to the cemetery felt peaceful despite the gloom that lingered within it. It was cold, and they all had to bundle up to combat the harsh weather that day. His father kissed the tombstone like he always did whenever they went there. Gael remembered that he'd repeatedly questioned his father during the first year of his mother's death when he told him he'd loved his mother. If he did, why didn't he stay? Why didn't he fight for what he wanted? Was his mother not worthy?
Alessandro's answer to his question didn't satisfy him. "I valued her safety more than my love for her."
It was coming back to him now that this might be one of the reasons why Gael couldn't answer his father last night. A lot of times, he couldn't tell what his father was truly thinking. If he admitted how much Angela meant to him, how would that change anything? Could it be that he didn't want history to repeat itself? Was he really scared, just like what his father told him?
His father and sister walked back to his SUV while he stayed behind for some alone time with his mother. Kneeling down in front of the tombstone, he ran his hand on the engraving, and his jaw clenched. "Hey, mom… I miss you today. I was gonna bring Honey with me, but…she found someone more fun than me to hang out with." Gael smiled. Silence enveloped his surroundings; not even the soft breeze of cold weather disturbed him. "I messed up. I thought I was doing the best for everyone. Since you left, I…" He took a deep breath and did not finish what he wanted to say. At this point, he thought they were all just excuses. "Merry Christmas, mom. I love you."
Gael got to his feet and turned around. It wasn't fair to anyone that he'd tell them what's been bothering him. And just a while ago, telling his mother didn't feel right either. He was fine keeping them to himself like he always did after his mother left. There was no need to inconvenience others. He just needed to focus on where he was good at—taking care of his family.
…
Brunch at his grandmother's house was amazing. This had become sort of a tradition whenever they spent Christmas in New York instead of Italy. They'd visit the cemetery and then have a meal with his grandmother. Gael brought a lot of presents for her and the family she was living with. He loved doing things like this as it made him feel grounded whenever he connected with the only person from his mother's side.
"She loved it. It was very sweet of you to do that, Grandma. Thank you." Gael gave her a side hug and kissed the side of her head.
She patted his arm with a smile on her face. "Just something I'd like to do for the people I love."
Warmth spread across Gael's chest upon hearing his grandmother. She had only spent a few hours with Angela, and she was already comfortable saying she loved her. He rolled up his sleeves, and the two of them started to wash the dishes.
"Tell her I love the book. I have just started reading it, and I couldn't put it down. I had to hide it under my pillow so that I could get up and make breakfast. Otherwise, I'd still be in bed right now," she added.
His brows wrinkled as he glanced at his grandmother. "What book?"
"The book she sent me. It arrived yesterday—oh my, I was so excited I forgot to tell her I received it. I have to call her later to thank her."
Angela sent her a book? He leaned his hip against the counter and faced his grandmother. Angela never told him, so this was surprising. A small hint of a smile peeked at the corner of his lips. "What's the book about?"
"It's actually an exciting contemporary romance about a ballerina in her mid-thirties who got injured and had to retire early. She had to raise a child on her own after her boyfriend left her. Later, she met another man. The British author is brilliant." Susan smiled as she recalled the plot of the story. "It reminded me of the frustration I felt when that happened to me—the injury. The story's very relatable to me. Angela's very thoughtful. I really appreciate that."
"She is," he agreed. Gael's mind was now filled with images of Angela's smile, her laughter, the way she talked and laughed at the same time while struggling to finish what joke she wanted to tell him, the way she narrowed her eyes whenever she tried to listen attentively to whatever he had to say to her. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath and felt the urge to call her. "Excuse me, Grandma. I'll give her a call."
Just as he said that, his phone buzzed, notifying him of a message from Angela.
Chapter 285: Can You Not Do That Again? (1)
When he arrived home at three in the morning, he crashed into his bed and passed out. Then his alarm clock blared from the nightstand, jerking him right off the bed groaning because of a heavy headache. Padding towards the bathroom to relieve himself, he quickly took a shower and then changed into a fresh set of suit. He'd be visiting his mother in the cemetery today, so dressing up was a must.
He scanned himself on the mirror, flattening the black polka dotted tie that his mother gave him when he was a teenager. He'd worn it with a black shirt under a three-piece maroon suit. Running his fingers through his neatly slicked-back hair, he thought he'd get a haircut as it had grown longer—a little past his ears now. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.
His phone buzzed. It was another reminder that he had to leave to pick up his father and sister from Nonna Flavia's. Apart from the reminder, a few emails, and some text messages from friends and family, he hadn't heard from Angela yet. He began to get a little anxious, but given that it was Christmas, he calmed himself into thinking she was busy with her family.
The visit to the cemetery felt peaceful despite the gloom that lingered within it. It was cold, and they all had to bundle up to combat the harsh weather that day. His father kissed the tombstone like he always did whenever they went there. Gael remembered that he'd repeatedly questioned his father during the first year of his mother's death when he told him he'd loved his mother. If he did, why didn't he stay? Why didn't he fight for what he wanted? Was his mother not worthy?
Alessandro's answer to his question didn't satisfy him. "I valued her safety more than my love for her."
It was coming back to him now that this might be one of the reasons why Gael couldn't answer his father last night. A lot of times, he couldn't tell what his father was truly thinking. If he admitted how much Angela meant to him, how would that change anything? Could it be that he didn't want history to repeat itself? Was he really scared, just like what his father told him?
His father and sister walked back to his SUV while he stayed behind for some alone time with his mother. Kneeling down in front of the tombstone, he ran his hand on the engraving, and his jaw clenched. "Hey, mom… I miss you today. I was gonna bring Honey with me, but…she found someone more fun than me to hang out with." Gael smiled. Silence enveloped his surroundings; not even the soft breeze of cold weather disturbed him. "I messed up. I thought I was doing the best for everyone. Since you left, I…" He took a deep breath and did not finish what he wanted to say. At this point, he thought they were all just excuses. "Merry Christmas, mom. I love you."
Gael got to his feet and turned around. It wasn't fair to anyone that he'd tell them what's been bothering him. And just a while ago, telling his mother didn't feel right either. He was fine keeping them to himself like he always did after his mother left. There was no need to inconvenience others. He just needed to focus on where he was good at—taking care of his family.
…
Brunch at his grandmother's house was amazing. This had become sort of a tradition whenever they spent Christmas in New York instead of Italy. They'd visit the cemetery and then have a meal with his grandmother. Gael brought a lot of presents for her and the family she was living with. He loved doing things like this as it made him feel grounded whenever he connected with the only person from his mother's side.
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"How's Angela?" Susan asked as she put the dishes into the sink. "Has she made progress with the espresso machine yet?""She loved it. It was very sweet of you to do that, Grandma. Thank you." Gael gave her a side hug and kissed the side of her head.
She patted his arm with a smile on her face. "Just something I'd like to do for the people I love."
Warmth spread across Gael's chest upon hearing his grandmother. She had only spent a few hours with Angela, and she was already comfortable saying she loved her. He rolled up his sleeves, and the two of them started to wash the dishes.
"Tell her I love the book. I have just started reading it, and I couldn't put it down. I had to hide it under my pillow so that I could get up and make breakfast. Otherwise, I'd still be in bed right now," she added.
His brows wrinkled as he glanced at his grandmother. "What book?"
"The book she sent me. It arrived yesterday—oh my, I was so excited I forgot to tell her I received it. I have to call her later to thank her."
Angela sent her a book? He leaned his hip against the counter and faced his grandmother. Angela never told him, so this was surprising. A small hint of a smile peeked at the corner of his lips. "What's the book about?"
"It's actually an exciting contemporary romance about a ballerina in her mid-thirties who got injured and had to retire early. She had to raise a child on her own after her boyfriend left her. Later, she met another man. The British author is brilliant." Susan smiled as she recalled the plot of the story. "It reminded me of the frustration I felt when that happened to me—the injury. The story's very relatable to me. Angela's very thoughtful. I really appreciate that."
Just as he said that, his phone buzzed, notifying him of a message from Angela.
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