Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Gael landed in New York at eleven in the evening, and he went straight to Nonna Flavia's house in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. The house was packed with all of his family from his father's side, the atmosphere was filled with chatter, and the long table was flooded with so much delicious gourmet spread of variously cooked dishes. Just like most Italian-Americans celebrating La Vigilia, they prepared only aquatic delicacies for appetizers and dinner.

Rounding the house to greet everyone, a woman in her late fifties pulled Gael to an embrace and kissed his cheek. "There you are. You look...better." 

"Buonasera, Aurora." He smiled at his father's wife. The woman had always been sweet and kind to him ever since his father brought him to Italy where he met her and his half-siblings. It was awkward for him to meet his father's wife, given that she wasn't his mother. Gael had only lost his mother then, and so meeting them was hard for him.

The late Severino De Luca, Alessandro's father, wished for a male grandson. He'd known about Gael's existence, but he respected Alessandro and Isabella's decision not to involve them in the family business. A few years later, Severino arranged a marriage for his son to a friend's daughter, and that was Aurora. Although the two didn't get married for love, they learned to cohabit peacefully.

When Aurora left to go back to the kitchen, Gael's father, Alessandro, entered through the front door. Alessandro just came from the Bunk and signaled Gael to the office where they could have some privacy.

They greeted each other with a hug, his father patting his back and muttering, "Glad you made it in time."

"Me too." He was as tall as his father, and the latter had some grey hair on the sides of his head. 

"You didn't answer my call earlier." Alessandro poured some scotch into two glasses and handed one to Gael who hesitated for a second before accepting it.

His alcohol abstinence only lasted for a few months, and he's back to drinking again. And there were a lot of reasons to drink now. He rotated his neck from side to side, wondering if his father noticed how edgy he was since he arrived. "I was busy. I had to fix something before flying back here."

"Too busy to answer my call?"

"I just wanted to get it over with." Gael took a large gulp of the amber liquid; it was smooth before it burned the back of his throat. That was a strong one. Wanting to change the subject, he then asked about his sick uncle's condition. They discussed treatments and plans in the near future as they would have to stay in New York moving forward. 

While the father and son conversed, light footsteps echoed outside of the office, drawing their attention. Gabriella walked by and paused by the door, only to roll her eyes at Gael before heading out the door, nearly slamming it behind her.

His brows instantly drew together, frowning at the door where his sister just disappeared. "What's her problem?" he asked.

Alessandro rubbed his temple as he sat at the edge of the oakwood desk. "She found out about the marriage arrangement with the Morellis."

Gael snapped his head at his father, and confusion marred his expression. "I thought we all agreed not to tell her?" he probed, recalling the agreement they all had a couple of months ago during a family sit-down.

His father shook his head, looking resigned. "I didn't. But Mariano Morelli came to town earlier, with permission, of course. He had a meeting with Giovanni at the club...and your sister happened to be in the area while the Morellis were about to leave. Mariano met Gabby and mentioned the wedding. She didn't take it well."

Gabriella was the De Lucas' princess, being the only daughter of the family's boss. Gael knew she'd react like this, and he couldn't blame her. No one wanted to be in this situation. "I'll go talk to her," he said, already heading out the door after setting down his glass.

"Hey, son…" Alessandro called, and when Gael turned, he worried, "Are you okay?"

Gael briefly looked to the side. His father must have given him the drink after sensing how tense he was. He breathed in before nodding his head. "Yeah," he lied. He felt uneasy that he was in New York and had to leave Angela. His family was important; there was no doubt about that, but so was his woman. Damn it. Angela had camped in his head ever since he left the mansion, and he had yet to hear her decision about the necklace.

…

Gabriella had just lit up a stick with a pink body and gold filter when Gael came out of the house. She sucked in the cigarette between her red lips and then blew out a cloud of smoke, glancing at her brother as he stood next to her. He then snatched the stick from her and, without hesitation, dropped it on the ground and stepped on it. "If I'm not smoking, so are you."

She groaned, grabbing another stick and holding it in her hand but paused when he gave her an eye, saying, "I'll break all of those too." His voice was calm, yet the promise was cold. She believed him. Annoyed, Gabriella stashed the stick back in the box and crossed her arms under her breasts.

"You should have told me," Gabriella muttered under her breath.

Gael draped a coat over her shoulders; he had grabbed it from the closet on his way out. Her expression relaxed, but she still looked vexed as she pulled the coat close. The cold air in Brooklyn and the faint sound of caroling from a distance reminded him that it would be midnight soon. "Doesn't change anything even if I did."

"That's not the point. When are you gonna stop carrying everything on your shoulders? I'm not a little girl anymore. You've got to trust me sometimes."

He rubbed his jaw and stuffed his hands into his pockets. There was nothing he could say to that.

"And is this why you sent J back to Australia? You didn't tell me about that too!" She clicked her tongue.

"Why does it matter to you where he is?" Gael cocked a brow, and Gabby bit her bottom lip. "He did something against my orders. He's lucky I only sent him back there."

"What did he do?"

"Doesn't matter." He wanted to divert the topic to the matter at hand. "Dad said you met Mariano this afternoon. What did he say?"

"Nothing... Just… He wanted to see me. I don't know."

Gael narrowed his eyes at her.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She frowned.

"Do you like him?"

Gabrielle's eyes widened as her mouth hung open. "W-What? No!!!"

"Then why the fûck are you turning red?" He turned to face her fully, his brows knitted together while he studied his sister's expression.

Her hands immediately flew to her cheeks. "Shut up. It's cold, okay? And he's an asshole. There's no way I'm gonna marry him. No matter how attractive he is," her words trailed off.

"You don't want to marry him, but you find him attractive?"

She raised her chin up and looked away. "I find a lot of men good-looking—doesn't mean I'm marrying them."

Gael was quiet for a moment, and silence lingered in the air. Gabby's not telling him something, but he was honestly tired after the day he had. He was sleep-deprived and so drained that he didn't have the energy to press on it.

Gabriella glanced at him. "What about you? You're getting married too. How's 'Angel' gonna feel about that?"

His jaw clicked at the question. Feeling the need to drink more, he pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed. "I'll die first before I marry a Morelli."

"This war has been going on for decades. Do you really think we have any other option?" She scoffed.

"You don't have faith in our family?"

Turning to face him, Gabriella exhaled an exhausted sigh. She kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder. "In many ways, I trust you. But I'm afraid my faith in this family isn't enough to save us from this mess."

Giovanni came out of the house and bumped into her as she went back inside. "Where are you going?"

"If I can't get out of this wedding, I might as well start browsing online and pick my own stupid dress. You two better pay for it. I'll choose the most expensive one," she said with complete sarcasm.

Gael let out another sigh and scanned the nearly empty street, rubbing his nape as his scattered thoughts plagued his head. He swore he aged a hundred years in just a few days.