Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Angela's face became pale. Clearly, whatever this was shocked her. She hadn't moved an inch since she told Gael that her ex had found her—whatever that meant. Did that bastard send those roses?

Gael wanted to wait until she came to her senses, but he got impatient with the nagging silence. Pulling her out of her trance, he slipped a finger under her chin and lifted it so she would meet his eyes. When she shifted her gaze to his, he asked, "Angel. What are you talking about? Who are you hiding from?"

He knew that she heard him because her throat bobbed as if she was contemplating whether to spill or not. Perhaps the words she said earlier weren't intentional, but she already started it. There was no way that he would let it go just like that without her telling him more.

It must have been hard for her to say it as her eyes reddened, and she swallowed once again. Then her voice croaked, "My ex—the one whose calls and texts I've been ignoring. He doesn't...well, he didn't know where I lived. I guess he found out now." 

Her eyes darted to the flowers in the trash. He followed the direction of her stare and saw the card that was face down on top of the bouquet. Picking it up, his brows drew together when he saw that it was blank. "How do you know it's him? Nothing's written here."

Angela cleared her throat and took a deep breath to collect herself, hugging her stomach as if seeking comfort while shifting her stare on the floor. "He...used to give me those when we were together. It was always white roses with a single blue one in the middle. He'd said that blue rose was me. I don't know—I...I'm sorry, I'm just...I don't want him to find me."

The look on her face pained him. Gone was the woman whom he knew was a strong one—replaced by someone who looked scared. And he wasn't referring to her weird love-and-scared relationship with horror stories. Angela looked like she was about to lose her shît. She was rigid as if trying to calm herself down, but Gael knew too well that she was only trying to hide what she was actually feeling.

In the short time he got to know about Angela, he learned that as much as she could hide it, she wouldn't show her true feelings. And he wanted so badly that she would lower her guard and strip her mask off when she's with him. It would very much satisfy him if she depended on him. But he knew how difficult that was for her, especially with the way things were between them at the moment.

"How much did he hurt you?" His voice was low, yet sounded so worried.

She absent-mindedly brushed her hand on her neck as she continued to look away. And when she didn't answer, he recalled something that he read from the file that Rick sent him about Evan Leos. He knew enough about that dirtbag, but he was sure there were things between him and Angela that weren't written in paper. 

Wanting to elicit some information from her, Gael added, "You've been trying to get away from him. Have you filed a restraining order?"

"I did. It was granted a permanent order."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. He won't be able to come near you."

Angela met his eyes. "Those things aren't really permanent. The order lasts for five years… It expired a year ago. That's when he started to constantly look for me."

How could he have missed that? He knew about the restraining order, but he must have overlooked its expiration. Now it all made sense. This Leos wanted to mess with her again. But hell if Gael would ever allow that to happen.

"Why don't you request an extension? I'm sure the court will grant it to you—"

"You don't understand." She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, the tie came off, and her hair cascaded down her shoulders. "It's a miracle that the restraining order was even five years. He has backings everywhere. The police. The court. He's a marine and his father is a high ranked official. It's...it's complicated."

Watching her bury her face in her hands, Gael could sense her feeling of helplessness. She was too distracted that she wasn't even complaining at the fact that he was now standing so close to her. He had her practically trapped between him and the counter behind her. Just one nudge and she'd be leaning against his chest.

Angela wasn't crying, though he knew that she wanted to. 'It's okay to cry, Angel,' he thought.

A minute passed, and she slowly lifted her face from her hands. Her red-rimmed eyes spoke volumes of her emotions, and he just wanted to save her from what's making her like this.

Gael caught her eyes, and he held it for several seconds before placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing them. If only he could hug her—he could if he forced it, but he didn't.

"First, let's get out of here. Pack clothes that would last you until Sunday before moving to the temporary apartment they gave you. We'll drive back to my place for the night. You can stay there in the meantime."

She knitted her brows and shook her head. "I'm not staying with you until Sunday."

"Why the hell not?"

Angela pulled back a little, creating distance between them. She was suddenly conscious of how close they were that she moved and walked away from him, taking long strides towards her bedroom. "Because!" she spat out.

"That's hardly an argument," he responded, rolling his eyes as he followed her.

"I can't stay with you!" She turned around abruptly, stopping him in his tracks before entering her closet.

Her bedroom was slightly messy because of her bathroom situation. They had moved all of her stuff from the bathroom to her bedroom this morning. Most of the stuff was on the bed, by the bed, or on the dresser. For someone living alone, she sure had so many bath essentials and hair products. There were tools too. 

And holy fû— 'Is that a dildo?' His eyes were drawn to this foot-long silver wired device that had hot pink accents on the edges. It had buttons that he thought were probably for modes or intensity levels for pleasure. Then he began to imagine how Angela would possibly use that thing on her—or in her.

Gael shook his head in an attempt to brush his dirty thoughts away. It was clearly not the time for that, but his stiffy disagreed. Anytime was a good time. 

He slightly flexed his shoulders to release the tension and adjusted his now tight jeans. Maybe he'd revisit the idea later tonight.

Angela was quietly shoving some clothes in a metallic pink cabin suitcase when he leaned on the doorway, watching her go about her wardrobe. Clearing his throat, he called her, "Angel."

"What?" she answered in an exhausted tone. She stopped and turned to face him, waiting for what he had to say.

"I know we're not—" He sighed. It was hard to say it. "We're not together. I know that. So I can understand why you don't want to. But you'll be safer with me…and I'll feel more at ease if you do."

She subtly bit her bottom lip as if she was trying not to respond right away. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Gael slid them inside his pockets and looked at her in the eyes. "So will you accept my help and stay with me—at least until you move?"