Gael took the morning off so he could have enough time to drive Angela around before her flight back to Mayne in a few hours. It was almost seven in the morning and he was in his home office, waiting for Angela to finish her last-minute packing—because God knows she wanted to bring the whole Manhattan back home and only decided an hour ago.
He was already dressed in a white shirt, navy suit, and tie when she told him. God, he loved the woman, but sometimes, he wanted to strangle her. And then love her again.
While waiting, Gael checked his emails, replying to some, and then continued to scroll down. Casually, he took a sip of espresso, and when he put the cup back down, he caught sight of a flash drive disguised as a cork that he stashed in a pin holder earlier that week, intending to check it during downtime but hadn't really gotten the chance.
He knew what was in it. And seeing it now sparked an urge to watch it. Gael glanced at the closed door and then he plugged the flash drive into his laptop. Leaning forward, he clicked a video file and steepled his hands at his chin.
Gael's eyes darkened as the feed played on the screen. It was from one of the dark rooms under The Bunk and Evan was hung on chains. Metal rings clamped around his wrists as he dangled a couple of feet off the floor without a piece of clothing on his body. A total humiliation and pain. This was taken a few minutes before Evan passed. Although the room was dimmed, he could still see a faint breathing movement.
If he didn't put Evan there himself, he wouldn't know this was the same man—what with all the blood, bruises, and missing patches of flesh here and there. This was the first time he'd seen this feed and would also be the last. Gael only wanted to see for himself the moment Evan stopped breathing. So that was what he did. He'd relish the knowledge that the piece of shit suffered until his last breath.
A few minutes later, he unplugged the drive and tossed it into the cup of coffee, closed his laptop, and stood at the window. Gael rolled his neck and shoulders as relief washed over him.
His phone went off—a notification, reminding him to call Damien Park. Dialing Damien's number, he placed the phone to his ear.
"Damien Park," the deep voice answered. "What can I do for you, De Luca?"
"Is your fiancée with you?"
"Still sleeping. Why—Hang on." Hushed voices were muffled from the other line and then Damien came back. "What is it?"
"Just called to inform you that Filippo Morelli is dead. It won't be on any news, but I can assure you he won't personally be going after Katherine's friend."
Instead of Damien, Katherine's voice floated in his ear. "Who killed him?"
"Me."
"How did you do it?"
Gael cocked a brow. Did this woman want to hear a play-by-play? "I shot him. Twice in the chest."
She sighed loudly, seemingly relieved. "Good. Thank you. Now we're even."
In exchange for removing Angela's video scandal in the dark web, Gael agreed to do Katherine's request. "Just to be clear, I didn't do it for you. I was already after him when you gave me a name."
"Doesn't matter," she said. "You gave me your word and honored it. I would've done it myself but Damien's banning me from leaving the state."
"Kitten, it's not a ban," Damien claimed.
"Not letting me go outside of Esmea is a ban, Damien."
"You can go anywhere but only if I'm with you."
Gael stifled his laugh, seeing himself in Damien Park. 'Ditto, man.' Except, right now, he couldn't go with Angela and it was honestly killing him.
After a few more exchanges between the three, the phone call ended.
***
The gravestone of Gael's mother was under a cherry blossom tree. The vibrancy reminded Angela of yesterday's date when Gael took her to the Botanic Garden. They walked under thousands of pink and white flowers. Cherry blossoms were symbolic—a time of renewal and the fleeting nature of life. Walking there and surrounded by such beauty made them feel…normal.
Angela kissed him under a full cherry blossom tree, thanking him for fulfilling his promise. She remembered the first time he brought her to New York last December. He'd said, "This is more beautiful in spring. We'll have to come back around March next year so you'll get to see the cherry blossoms."
And he actually did! How fitting was it that yesterday was the last day of March and he made good on his promise? It was sweet, it was needed, and Angela loved him for it even more.
His mom was lucky to rest under the beautiful tree.
"Hi, Mom." Gael placed a bouquet of pink roses that was, apparently, Isabella's favorite too. That made Angela smile. She felt closer to the woman already. "I want you to meet someone." He held out his hand and she placed hers in it, letting him pull her closer.
"This is Angela Kylie. The one I was telling you about."
"You talk to her about me?" Angela smiled, looking hopeful.
He nodded. "I first told her about you when I came back on my birthday last year—you know, before I got shot."
She winced at the reminder. "That early?"
"What can I say? I couldn't forget about you after our days on the island." A smirk crossed his face, making Angela giggle.
Facing the gravestone, she said, "Your son is very sly, but he's also very sweet and loving." She rubbed Gael's chest affectionately and looked into his eyes. "I'm very thankful and blessed that you taught him the best qualities that drew me to him. I love your son very much, Ms. Rivera. I promise I'll be good to him."
Smiling down at Angela, Gael swept a lock of hair out of her face and cupped her cheek. "She's the one for me, Mom. I'm going to marry her…and give you grandchildren that you could watch over from your place in heaven…with…Bloop hopefully next to you."
Angela's lips trembled but she kept the smile on her face, even as a tear slid down and Gael caught it with a swipe of his thumb. "Thank you for giving birth to this beautiful man, Ms. Rivera. I'm going to treasure him forever."
Holding her face with his hands, he pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. "I love you, Angel," he said as he wrapped his arms around her and she did the same.
The two stayed like so for a few more minutes, just savoring the moment in front of the late Isabella Rivera, the woman who bore the love of Angela's life to earth.
***
Pulling away from the curb, Gael drove his Escalade back to the main road under the speed limit. He glanced at the rearview mirror, seeing an SUV with four of his men inside trailing behind.
"If traffic stays the same, we'll be at the airport in twenty minutes," he said as they exited through the gates of the cemetery. "Is Oliver picking you up?"
"That's what he said." Angela yawned, still feeling a bit sleepy as she texted her brother that she was on the way to the airport where Gael's plane waited.
"You're not going anywhere without Trigger. You got that?"
"Yes, Daaad." Angela laughed. "Stop worrying."
Gael shot her a glare before focusing back on the road. "I mean it, Angel. Filippo's gone, but we still need to be cautious."
"Perry's still out there too…"
"I wouldn't worry about him too much. Perry got mixed in with the wrong people, but he's really just a businessman."
She angled her body to face him. "Are you still looking for him?"
"Yes—I mean, not me. But Gio is. He said he'd handle it."
"Oh…" Angela was sure Giovanni said so because of Malia. "Speaking of Gio… Have you noticed he's been weird lately?"
"Weird how?" Gael cocked a brow as he briefly glanced at her and then back on the road.
"I don't know. He's always on his phone and last night—"
"Shit!" The tires screeched and Gael's arm shot out protectively in front of Angela.
"Wha—" She gasped, her eyes widening and shifting side to side as a group of armed men with ski masks on came out of the black SUVs that blocked the front and sides of the intersection. "Oh my god… Gael… What's happening?"
Instinctively, Gael put the car in reverse but immediately stepped on the brakes when his security's SUV was also trapped by another vehicle with armed men heading towards them.
"Baby, listen to me." Gael retrieved a handgun under his seat and clicked the safety off. "I need you to calm down and do as I say. Okay?"
Angela nodded frantically. "What do they want?"
"I don't know. But I'm not going to let them hurt you—"
Someone knocked on Gael's window, pointed a gun at him, and spat, "Put the gun away and let her out."
Realization dawned on Gael when he recognized the accent. "Angel…" Gael whispered as he locked eyes with her frightened ones. "It's the Bratva.. Your grandfather must've sent them."