Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Unbeknown to Angela, Gael had been sitting in his car that's parked on the road in front of the house. It was dark outside that even if she had peered the window earlier, she wouldn't see him in his black car. He had been sitting out here for hours since he came home a few minutes after Angela and Rick arrived.

He tried to talk himself into going inside, but the thought of seeing Angela made his chest ache. He was stupid to think that keeping her close to him would be easy—even if she had to meet men on dates as per her agreement with her father. But every time that Rock comes in place, he'd always have this anger boiling within him. 

There's this burning sensation in his stomach that wouldn't go away no matter what he did. And if he walked inside, he'd have to see her and then he'd remember that she had to go on that date with him tomorrow. How fûcked up was it that he was feeling this way, knowing full well that Angela wasn't his?

Gael looked up to the second floor of his house when he noticed the bathroom light in the master bedroom lit up. He stared at it for several minutes until it turned off again, wondering if Angela was readying herself to bed. The faint light on her nightstand was still on and he focused on that. A few minutes later, the room went dark.

He heaved out a sigh, not even knowing why he was releasing a deep breath for. Was he relieved that she was turning in early? Or that he wouldn't have to talk to her when he gets home? But he wanted to see her, though.

A knock on his window pulled him out of his stupor. He turned his head and saw Rick bending down and looking at him. He got out of his car and handed him his keys. "How is she?"

"Miss Angela's fine, Boss. She stayed in your room for an hour after putting away the groceries."

Gael's brows furrowed. He leaned against the door of his car. "Groceries? Are we low on food?"

Rick shrugged and shook his head. "She had two bags when I picked her up today."

"What else did she do?"

"She came down at seven and went to the kitchen while I was preparing dinner. She looked for you. I left a few minutes after serving her the food. She...didn't eat until an hour later. At first, I thought she mustn't like what I cooked. But she kept looking at her phone and the front door. She must have been waiting for you, Boss."

Gael rubbed his hands on his face. He checked the time on his watch—the one that Angela gave him. He brushed his fingers on it, remembering what was written on the case back. The thought of her waiting for him made him feel even worse. He should have been happy that she was waiting for him. It only meant that she cared, right? But now, he felt like shît.

It was silent for a few moments before he pushed himself off the car. "Where's Honey?"

"At the cottage, Boss. She's resting."

He nodded. "Park my car at the cottage's garage so you won't wake her up. I'll grab some change of clothes. I need a shower."

Gael crossed the road and entered his house, making sure that he made very little noise as possible. Thankful that the house was mostly made of tiles and hard material, he didn't have to worry about creaking sounds when he walked. As he wrapped his hand on the doorknob of his bedroom, he thought about backing away. What if she wasn't asleep yet? He checked the time on his watch again. It had been over thirty minutes since the night lamp was off. She probably had fallen asleep already.

Taking his chances, he carefully twisted the knob and slightly pushed it open, closing his eyes to concentrate on his hearing. It was quiet—no rustling. He let himself in and found Angela with her back facing him as she laid on her side. He walked to his closet with measured light steps and grabbed the things he needed before heading out the door. However, when he passed by the bed again, he paused. Just one look wouldn't hurt.

Gael was skilled in moving stealthily. He managed to walk around the bed and bend down to her side. Watching her sleep settled his throbbing heart. She looked so peaceful he was tempted to touch her face, but he kept his hands to himself. He then remembered her text earlier. "I'm ready to go home." 

Home, she said. 

Angela called this nearly empty house a home. He had been here alone before she came to stay with him, and he never really felt like it was a home for him. But ever since she was here, this house didn't feel as empty. He liked the thought of calling it home now.

Home is wherever she is.

Almost every area in this place felt brighter because of her—the kitchen, the living room, his bedroom where she took over and filled it with her stuff that's strewn all over the place. He scanned the room, and his lip twitched. He couldn't even shower in his own bathroom without thinking about her. The damn bath smelled like her, and he loved it.

It's why he stopped using his bathroom since then. He wouldn't want to leave traces of his...shower session where he couldn't help but jack off at the memory of her in that wet white shirt with no bra on and slinky short shorts and then feel like a sicko right after his release. He stopped sleeping on the floor of his bedroom because there was no way he trusted himself while she was on his bed. Alone. Many times, he'd thought about crawling on it and waking her up, throwing his reservations aside together with his clothes and then hers.

Gael's vivid imagination sent a thrill down his spine and into his groin. He shook his head as he got up and saw the tent on his pants. Oh, fûck. Now, his dick's awake and angry.

Adjusting his waistband, he quietly left the bedroom and closed the door behind him. Then he jolted out of the house and into the cottage, escaping before he changes his mind.