Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance
The three of them passed by some of their men who greeted them as they headed towards the basement. The soldiers had broad smiles on their faces having received their bonus. It was the least they could do for them when they've worked hard this year. That and the fact that they didn't have a place to go home too except the Bunk.
"Don De Luca." One of the soldiers who was in his forties came closer.
Gael's father turned his head and the soldier bowed before him. The soldier hesitantly held his hands out and Alessandro placed a hand on top of the soldier's. The soldier kissed the ring before he lifted his head and said, "Thank you for the blessing. My Eleanor also wants to say thank you. She's no longer worried now that we have money when she gives birth."
Alessandro patted the soldier's shoulder and nodded. "I'm glad I could be of help. You should have stayed at home today. It's Christmas."
"I just came by to bring some food that my wife made last night. They're already eating it in the dining." The soldier jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I also wanted to thank you in person."
"You deserved it. There's no need for thanks."
The soldier left after thanking them one more time. The three of them descended the stairs towards the basement. The area had cemented walls and floor. To the right was a beat-up sofa, a wooden coffee table, and an old T.V.
Gael pulled the third hook of a black rail-mounted wall hook hanging rack downward. A block of the wall that's about the size of a notebook next to it pushed forward, revealing a digital device. He pressed his hand on the screen and it scanned his print. A couple of seconds later, the device displayed "Phantom" and "Access Granted". Next, a section of the floor lifted up, showing another set of stairs that led to a deeper level underground.
The Bunk had been with their family for so many years. The exterior looked like a regular brownstone house. It had a traditional interior and only the privileged ones were able to access the basement. Over time, they upgraded the place until it became their safe haven.
Lights illuminated their steps as they walked downwards. When they reached the landing, three paths greeted them—to the left, to the right, and to the front. They turned right. A few feet down the path, two guards stood outside a metal door and they opened the door for them.
The stench of blood permeated the air, the metallic smell gave Gael a headache. He groaned. "Can somebody clean this hole up? I don't know how you can stand this place when it smells like a fûcking sewer," he complained. He only came to this area when he needed to, and usually, it was 'cleaner'. The soldiers assigned here would clean it up before any of them came by, and their visit today was unplanned. One of the soldiers acknowledged his order and disappeared to get some cleaning supplies.
This area was darker than the hallway. There were four metal rooms—two on each side—and they opened the first one on the left. The fluorescent lamp on the ceiling lit up and someone on the corner winced. A man with no clothes on cowered on the floor. He shielded his eyes with his hands, his ankles and wrists were bound with chains. The only thing he had was a piece of cardboard which he used to sit on.
"Merry Christmas," was Gael's first greeting as he stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. "How was your feast last night?"
His father took a seat on the steel chair by the door and Giovanni leaned against the wall next to Gael.
The captive peeked from behind his hands. His face and body were dirty, his beard was three inches long, and his hair was a matted black. The De Luca soldiers took him down here the day Gael got shot. He was the mole who fed information to their enemy. At first, they thought he wasn't aware that he was seeing someone from the Morellis. Later, they found out that he worked for them before he came to New York and infiltrated the De Lucas. He was new then and hadn't even been to the Bunk, so he hadn't given any vital information to the Morellis.
Other times, those who did the De Lucas' wrong would be punished with death, no questions asked. Sometimes, they're tortured. This man deserved the latter. At the moment, they're keeping him here as he wasted his life until he dies of hunger or loss of blood—whichever came first. The man shivered—maybe he'd even die of hypothermia.
The man looked down, his lifeless eyes uncaring. "Cold turkey sandwich," he muttered, pertaining to the food he got last night.
"Oh, don't be ungrateful. It was from a three-star restaurant."
"And by that, he meant a kid drew three stars on its wall with a Crayola," Giovanni added.
Gael lifted a shoulder in nonchalance. "The kid's a Picasso."
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" asked the man in a weak voice. "I guess it really is Christmas seeing the three Kings of this family visiting a rat like me."
The man in chains lifted his head. His brows slightly furrowing as if he didn't expect the question. "What about him?"
Studying the captive's face, Gael tried to read what he was thinking. Was there a reason why he looked somewhat surprised? It could be because they didn't ask about Mariano before. That guy did nothing but played around after he graduated, so the De Lucas didn't see him as a threat compared to his father.
"Cretino. We're the ones asking the questions here, not you," Giovanni spat.
"I don't know much about him. He likes women and alcohol. He and his father didn't get along," said the man.
Gael cocked a brow and exchanged looks between Giovanni and his father. It was typical to hear the first one, but they didn't know about the other. He relaxed his face once again and probed with a neutral tone, "Why don't they get along?"
"I don't know. They've always been that way."
That was an unhelpful answer. Gael shot his father a glance without saying anything and in response, Alessandro banged his fist against the door. His father hadn't spoken since they arrived. He was usually like this. He didn't speak in front of people he didn't trust. When the door opened, a soldier waited for a command. Giovanni wordlessly nodded at the captive and the soldier moved across the room. The three De Lucas worked in coordination without even saying anything, their presence, their eyes, and body language were enough to understand each other and also give an order.
The soldier's hands were quick in maneuvering a device that was linked to the chains of the captive. In the next few seconds, the captive dangled in the air upside down, groaning in pain. His head was about a meter off the ground. A lot of the bones in his body were already broken and this position wasn't doing him any favor.
"Just kill me," pleaded the man, his voice distorted.
Gael walked closer and bent to his level with a stare enough to cut glass. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Boss, what else do you want from m—"
He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "You don't have the privilege to call me that after the nine lives that my family lost because of you."
Still groaning, the man squeezed his eyes shut, the blood rushing towards his head and he turned red. "I already told you everything."
"When they took my sister, she was placed next to Mariano's cell. Why was he there? What did he do?"
"He…" The man clenched his jaw, his stomach clenching in pain. "Marino thinks his son tried to poison him."
"Did he?"
"Mariano denied it, but…" He groaned again. "But it's not impossible."
There was silence for a few seconds before the captive continued, "When they're in front of the others, they appear like a family. But there was one time when Marino called me to his office, the door was left open. I saw him slap his son across the face. They might've been arguing but quickly stopped when they noticed I was there."
Gael believed the Morellis were more messed up than they thought they were. And a family like that was easier to break.
Chapter 288: Dysfunctional Family
"Don De Luca." One of the soldiers who was in his forties came closer.
Gael's father turned his head and the soldier bowed before him. The soldier hesitantly held his hands out and Alessandro placed a hand on top of the soldier's. The soldier kissed the ring before he lifted his head and said, "Thank you for the blessing. My Eleanor also wants to say thank you. She's no longer worried now that we have money when she gives birth."
Alessandro patted the soldier's shoulder and nodded. "I'm glad I could be of help. You should have stayed at home today. It's Christmas."
"I just came by to bring some food that my wife made last night. They're already eating it in the dining." The soldier jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I also wanted to thank you in person."
"You deserved it. There's no need for thanks."
The soldier left after thanking them one more time. The three of them descended the stairs towards the basement. The area had cemented walls and floor. To the right was a beat-up sofa, a wooden coffee table, and an old T.V.
Gael pulled the third hook of a black rail-mounted wall hook hanging rack downward. A block of the wall that's about the size of a notebook next to it pushed forward, revealing a digital device. He pressed his hand on the screen and it scanned his print. A couple of seconds later, the device displayed "Phantom" and "Access Granted". Next, a section of the floor lifted up, showing another set of stairs that led to a deeper level underground.
The Bunk had been with their family for so many years. The exterior looked like a regular brownstone house. It had a traditional interior and only the privileged ones were able to access the basement. Over time, they upgraded the place until it became their safe haven.
Lights illuminated their steps as they walked downwards. When they reached the landing, three paths greeted them—to the left, to the right, and to the front. They turned right. A few feet down the path, two guards stood outside a metal door and they opened the door for them.
The stench of blood permeated the air, the metallic smell gave Gael a headache. He groaned. "Can somebody clean this hole up? I don't know how you can stand this place when it smells like a fûcking sewer," he complained. He only came to this area when he needed to, and usually, it was 'cleaner'. The soldiers assigned here would clean it up before any of them came by, and their visit today was unplanned. One of the soldiers acknowledged his order and disappeared to get some cleaning supplies.
This area was darker than the hallway. There were four metal rooms—two on each side—and they opened the first one on the left. The fluorescent lamp on the ceiling lit up and someone on the corner winced. A man with no clothes on cowered on the floor. He shielded his eyes with his hands, his ankles and wrists were bound with chains. The only thing he had was a piece of cardboard which he used to sit on.
"Merry Christmas," was Gael's first greeting as he stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his pockets. "How was your feast last night?"
His father took a seat on the steel chair by the door and Giovanni leaned against the wall next to Gael.
The captive peeked from behind his hands. His face and body were dirty, his beard was three inches long, and his hair was a matted black. The De Luca soldiers took him down here the day Gael got shot. He was the mole who fed information to their enemy. At first, they thought he wasn't aware that he was seeing someone from the Morellis. Later, they found out that he worked for them before he came to New York and infiltrated the De Lucas. He was new then and hadn't even been to the Bunk, so he hadn't given any vital information to the Morellis.
Other times, those who did the De Lucas' wrong would be punished with death, no questions asked. Sometimes, they're tortured. This man deserved the latter. At the moment, they're keeping him here as he wasted his life until he dies of hunger or loss of blood—whichever came first. The man shivered—maybe he'd even die of hypothermia.
The man looked down, his lifeless eyes uncaring. "Cold turkey sandwich," he muttered, pertaining to the food he got last night.
"Oh, don't be ungrateful. It was from a three-star restaurant."
"And by that, he meant a kid drew three stars on its wall with a Crayola," Giovanni added.
Gael lifted a shoulder in nonchalance. "The kid's a Picasso."
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Gael softly chuckled, scratching his temple even though it didn't itch; the itch was rather in his hands from wanting to slam the man's head against the wall for trying to be funny. This rat didn't get to be amusing. Gael didn't want to be here. It's supposed to be a day of celebration—he should've been with Angela. But the matter at hand had to be taken care of. "Tell us about Mariano," he questioned.The man in chains lifted his head. His brows slightly furrowing as if he didn't expect the question. "What about him?"
Studying the captive's face, Gael tried to read what he was thinking. Was there a reason why he looked somewhat surprised? It could be because they didn't ask about Mariano before. That guy did nothing but played around after he graduated, so the De Lucas didn't see him as a threat compared to his father.
"Cretino. We're the ones asking the questions here, not you," Giovanni spat.
"I don't know much about him. He likes women and alcohol. He and his father didn't get along," said the man.
Gael cocked a brow and exchanged looks between Giovanni and his father. It was typical to hear the first one, but they didn't know about the other. He relaxed his face once again and probed with a neutral tone, "Why don't they get along?"
"I don't know. They've always been that way."
That was an unhelpful answer. Gael shot his father a glance without saying anything and in response, Alessandro banged his fist against the door. His father hadn't spoken since they arrived. He was usually like this. He didn't speak in front of people he didn't trust. When the door opened, a soldier waited for a command. Giovanni wordlessly nodded at the captive and the soldier moved across the room. The three De Lucas worked in coordination without even saying anything, their presence, their eyes, and body language were enough to understand each other and also give an order.
The soldier's hands were quick in maneuvering a device that was linked to the chains of the captive. In the next few seconds, the captive dangled in the air upside down, groaning in pain. His head was about a meter off the ground. A lot of the bones in his body were already broken and this position wasn't doing him any favor.
"Just kill me," pleaded the man, his voice distorted.
Gael walked closer and bent to his level with a stare enough to cut glass. "Where's the fun in that?"
"Boss, what else do you want from m—"
He shook his head and clicked his tongue. "You don't have the privilege to call me that after the nine lives that my family lost because of you."
Still groaning, the man squeezed his eyes shut, the blood rushing towards his head and he turned red. "I already told you everything."
"When they took my sister, she was placed next to Mariano's cell. Why was he there? What did he do?"
"He…" The man clenched his jaw, his stomach clenching in pain. "Marino thinks his son tried to poison him."
"Did he?"
"Mariano denied it, but…" He groaned again. "But it's not impossible."
There was silence for a few seconds before the captive continued, "When they're in front of the others, they appear like a family. But there was one time when Marino called me to his office, the door was left open. I saw him slap his son across the face. They might've been arguing but quickly stopped when they noticed I was there."
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