Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

The next day, Angela went to her new house. She had wanted to go over there as soon as she came back to Mayne but her brother told her they were doing some pest management for a few days on some areas that they were still working on so he advised her not to go yet. On Saturday morning, he gave her a clear and so for the first time since she bought the new house and lot, she went there with Rick and Trigger.     

Charlie had lent his driver and car so Gael's soldiers could actually "look after" her. The Maybach entered through the beautiful wrought iron gate and cruised through the driveway, stopping in front of a huge darkwood double door.      

"Holy mother of—" Rick's eyes widened as they stepped out of the vehicle. He'd been muttering to himself as they drove towards the house. His mouth hung open but nothing else came out.     

Angela had seen every progress of the renovation through pictures and videos that Oliver had constantly sent her for seven weeks. But seeing the house in person still blew her away and it was only the exterior.     

"Wow, Angela…" Trigger gaped—he'd started calling her that when she insisted even though Gael was against his soldiers calling her informally. Only Rick and Trigger were allowed though. "Your house is… Damn. It's lit. I mean your father's mansion is undoubtedly grand too but this one is gorgeous."     

"Thank you! I picked out every little thing myself." Her face brightened, her eyes still roaming around the front yard, butterflies in her stomach bouncing about.     

A huge smile ghosted Rick's face as he pointed the camera of his phone at the house. "I can't wait to tell Boss—"     

Angela's hands swiftly flew to his phone, covering the lenses, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "You. Are. Not. Telling. Him. Anything."     

"But—"     

"This is a secret project. If I wanted him to know, I would have told him the first day. You cannot spoil this for me or I will end you, Riccardo."     

Rick swallowed. "But he's my boss. I don't lie to him."     

"You're not lying to him, technically. You're just…not going to tell him about today. At least not all of it. No pictures or videos."      

Hypocrite, she called herself. She didn't like when Gael lied to her of omission. But this was different. She wanted to be the one to tell him.     

Rick opened and closed his mouth like a fish and Trigger chuckled as he observed the two. "But… He's my boss," he repeated as if he didn't have anything else to use as a reason.     

"And I will be soon, too, after we get married." That was a stretch. She didn't really expect to be the "Boss" of them. She narrowed her eyes into slits as if trying to intimidate him which was comical considering he was twice her size and he could easily crush her if he really wanted to. "Don't tell him. Just for seven more days. Let me do it. I promise he won't take it out on you."     

He lowered his hands and reluctantly shoved his phone in his pocket. "You do know he can easily track us if he really wants to, right? We have trackers on our phones."     

"Does he do that? Is he doing it right now?" Her eyes rounded.     

"He doesn't usually do it. Only when something's going on. Contrary to what you're opposed to with regards to his security measures, Boss actually respects your privacy. He had nev—" He cleared his throat. "He hadn't tracked you since we got here."     

Angela rolled her eyes. "He doesn't really need to do that, does he? You always keep him updated anyway."     

Rick and Trigger looked away.     

They entered the house and met some of the workers who were currently installing some fixtures here and there. They checked out everything, and all three of them were constantly amazed whenever they went into a new room. She was most excited about her office-slash-library. It had a view of the backyard garden and trees behind the property.     

They expected Gael to arrive in seven days. The backyard wasn't fully ready yet, but the exterior and most of the interior were already done. The master bedroom was the first one to be renovated and then the kitchen and living room. Because it was only a renovation and not a start-from-scratch construction, there wasn't much work to do.     

Everything was coming together and she could already imagine living there. She hoped Gael would love it there, too, after all, she thought of him while she designed the place. It took tons of video conferences with Oliver and the person he put in charge of the construction while she was still in New York.     

The smile on her face hadn't fallen since the moment they walked into her dream house. She didn't think she could be this happy today.     

***     

The other day, Angela told her father about what happened at the Manor—the cause of her cuts and bruises—of course, minus what she did. He was so mad, he wanted Gael to come to Mayne right away so he could give him a piece of his mind.     

Poor Gael. She didn't tell him about it though, so she was a bit nervous when he'd come the next week. Hopefully, with her father's girlfriend being here on the weekend, Charlie's anger would subside so that by the time Gael did arrive, he wouldn't bite his head off.     

As for what happened with the Bratva, Angela decided to tell them about it sometime next week—before Gael arrived. She had to take one thing at a time.     

Charlie brought them to a swanky new restaurant just outside of the city and was overlooking the bay. From Angela's new house, she went to Su Mansion to change and then met her family at the restaurant. When she arrived, all three of them were already seated at the dining table. It was a private room that had an open balcony. At six in the evening, the sun was setting, casting orange hues on the horizon—the perfect backdrop for tonight.     

Angela shook Dorothy's hand after her father introduced the two of them. She thought it was rather formal, but a hug was also too intimate. The older woman was not what she expected. Dorothy looked very feminine and…gentle? She was twelve years younger than Charlie, and was beautiful and sophisticated.     

Angela felt some familiarity with her even though it was the first time they met. Dorothy was also divorced a long time ago but never had kids. She taught English in middle school in South Carolina, hence Charlie had to fly her over for the weekend. So far, there were no red flags. She seemed to be kind and caring—she was attentive to Charlie's plate. Angela had to admit, the couple looked good together.     

Angela exchanged looks with Oliver and they smiled, seeing their father being cozy with a woman. It was a strange scene because she had never seen him with one after her mother left.      

There was a sudden pang in her chest—she didn't know where it came from. Just the thought of how her father suffered for years alone with no one beside him while raising two kids who gave him headaches plenty of times. Add the fact that she distanced herself from him when she got older. Her father must've been so lonely. She felt so regretful. Angela sniffed when a sudden tear escaped her eye.     

"Why are you crying? What's wrong?" Charlie worried, scanning Angela to get a read on her.     

She chuckled as she wiped her eyes. "I'm just really happy for you, Dad." Oliver squeezed her shoulder as Charlie took her hand and did the same.     

A few minutes later, Dorothy made small talk that made her panic a little. "So Angela… Charlie told me that you're a writer? Tell me about your books." She smiled.     

Angela looked between her and Charlie who also only smiled at her. "Oh, god no." She laughed awkwardly and so did Oliver. "No offense, Dorothy… But I don't want any of my family to read my books. I'd rather not explain what I'm writing about. It's…uh…"     

The smile on Dorothy's face widened and so did Charlie's.     

"What?" Angela probed.     

It was Charlie who answered. "While I was looking into your books a year ago… I came across this person who wrote a beautiful review about your first book in their blog. It was at the top of the search. The way they poured their words into it, combined with their personal life, made it sound so passionate. It made me curious about the writer—and proud of my daughter too. So I emailed them to thank them for the very nice review, and then…the rest is history." He glanced at his woman and smiled at her. "That was Dorothy."     

Angela's mouth hung open, her heart racing. "Wait…you…read my book and wrote a review? Which one is it? I might have read it before."     

"You have actually. You even left a comment." Dorothy blushed. "It's Books & Coffee, Literary—the banner has a slash on the double L and replaced with r, so instead of literally it's literary—"     

A gasp came out of Angela. "Oh, my god! That's you?!"