Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

The rest of Angela's lunch date with Vincent went okay. Because as much as she wanted not to think about Gael, his presence was just overwhelming—not to mention, his date seemed to be so comfortable with him that it bugged her.

She couldn't help but recall the times she spent with Gael on the island and every time that 'Honey' popped up. So this was her? This leggy, beautiful woman was that person?

If this was her, then why did Gael bring her here? She still had to know if he did this on purpose. For someone who wanted a do-over, he was clearly doing an excellent job. She rolled her eyes in her head, her mood getting sour by the second.

Noticing Angela going a bit pale, Vincent wondered, "Are you feeling okay?" A look of concern laced his face.

She curled the corners of her mouth into a smile despite not wanting to. She wasn't okay at all. Her stomach churned and her head got heavier. "Just a little headache. It's nothing."

"Oh… Then I'll take you home so that you can rest."

"Thanks. Do you mind if I go to the ladies' room first?"

"Not at all. I'll take care of the bill. See you out front?"

She nodded as she got up and went to the restrooms, passing by Gael's table without looking at him. Angela had to get out of this place. The restaurant was luxurious, and the food was great, but she didn't enjoy her time here—what with Gael being there.

She didn't take too much time in the restroom. After washing her hands and drying them, she walked out and headed to the front door. But just as she left the ladies' room, a large hand grabbed her wrist and then dragged her towards a small storage room.

Angela gasped in surprise, but when she realized who it was, she couldn't say anything except allow the man to bring her into the room. He turned on the light, closed the door, and locked it. They were inside a room full of metal racks filled with spare toilet papers, tissues, cloths, soaps, etc. She had her back against the door while he stood dangerously close in front of her.

"You didn't answer me," said Gael in a low voice, keeping his gaze locked with hers. 

Beads of sweat lined her temple, and he thought that she was nervous.

At first, she was flustered, but she calmed down and knitted her brows as she stared back at him. "Did you bring me here just to ask that?"

"Just answer me."

"..."

When she didn't answer, he continued, "Do you like him? Is that why you're meeting him in the middle of the week and dressed like that?"

"What's wrong with my dress?! And who I like is none of your business, Gael. Why are you doing this to me every time? I know you came here to ruin my lunch date with him. It's what you do. You appear out of nowhere and mess my dates."

Angela crossed her arms in front of her chest. She was clear with Vincent that this wasn't a date, but who was she kidding? And Gael didn't have to know that.

Ignoring her remark, he added, "So he asked you out, and you just agreed to meet him? Why can't I take you out on a date?" He was still bitter, knowing that she had agreed to meet that Rock after he saw her outside of Becca's studio last Sunday. He knew they were still on the mend, but it still pissed him off that she agreed easily to that man's invitation. Among the men whom Angela had been meeting, he hated this man the most.

"We had breakfast together yesterday, didn't we?!" she responded in an exasperated tone. Looking away, she continued, "Besides, why does it matter? You are on a date right now, too, aren't you? Shouldn't you be with her? Why don't you go back to your 'Honey'?" Her jaw ticked.

Gael was baffled. His brows furrowed for a second before he let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Angela's phone buzzed in her purse. She took it out and was about to check it when he placed his left hand over it and closed their gap. With his right arm planted above her, he lowered his face until his forehead touched hers. 

She closed her eyes instinctively, unsure why she did it. Then she felt his heavy breathing, and she couldn't help but clench her thighs together. Gael was so close that she could feel the heat radiating from him, making her want to sink in and melt in his chest—be hugged and be cradled in his arms. Why was this so hard?

Why was he making it so damn hard for her?

As if that wasn't enough, he brought his warm hand up and cupped her face, lifting her chin ever so slightly that their lips were almost an inch away.

"I don't like seeing you with him," he breathed.

Was it weird to crave for his warmth even more? He was already friggin' close, and it was driving her crazy! His smell and touch were intoxicating that she could get lost in it. 

'Well, I don't like seeing you with another woman either,' she said quietly in her head, knowing that it was unfair to say it.

Angela wanted to say it back to him out loud, but she knew that if she did, she could never take it back, and she didn't want anything more. 'This has to stop.' 

"I have to go," she whispered, her voice so soft and gentle—there was no trace of her anger from earlier. 

But Gael knew that she was still pissed. They both were.

Reluctantly lowering his left hand, he backed away and let her go. She swallowed and opened her mouth as if she was about to say something but decided against it, clutching her purse tightly until her knuckles turned white. Then she left.

Gael waited for nearly half a minute before he left the storage room and headed to the front of the restaurant where he saw her stand next to the Rock who was wearing a poop-colored trench coat.

Scoffing, Gael dug his hands into his pockets as he thought of ways to get rid of the man. He was frustrated when he watched the stupid asshat hold Angela's hand, lead her inside his car, and then they drove away.