Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

A few months later…

Cynthia got out of the Town Car as soon as it parked in front of the mansion like she was in a hurry. The butler said something to her before she hurried inside the house, leaving her children behind who had just gotten out of the car. Oliver and Angela raced towards the mansion's front door. 

"Young Master, Young Miss, no running," reprimanded the butler as he followed the siblings inside the house, carrying their bags in his hand.

"No running~" mocked Oliver in a sing-song voice, which sent Angela into a fit of giggles.

"Where did mommy go, Elias?" she asked when they reached the kitchen, excitedly climbing up a stool to reach the freshly baked muffins.

"Young Miss, a proper lady must wash her hands first before eating. We will serve you treats in the garden." Elias, still carrying their bags, turned to face Oliver, who was already grabbing his second muffin, and swatted the boy's hand. Turning up his nose in the sky, he scolded, "Young Master, you're sweaty, and you eat so fast. A proper gentleman—"

"Must always mind his manners," Oliver finished Elias's nagging in his best impression of the butler's voice. This caused little Angela another bout of giggles. "You're so boring, Elias. How do you have fun if you always have these rules?"

"Rules are important, Young Master because it leads you to a great path in life. If you break the rules, you're a troublemaker and—"

"What if I want to be a troublemaker?" Oliver snatched a piece of muffin and then ran away from Elias's reach.

The butler, looking like he was trying to contain his annoyance, took a deep breath and released it before clearing his throat. "I have no doubt that you are, Young Master." Then he turned around and left the kitchen.

Angela hurriedly climbed down the stool, leaving the half-eaten muffin on the counter and then wiping her hair away from her face with her sticky fingers as she chased after Elias. "Wait! I have to get something in my bag!"

She retrieved a newly bought R.L. Stine book that still had the clear wrapper on it and hugged it to her chest. "Is mommy in the library?"

"Yes, Young Miss. But she's working with her editor," Elias answered while Angela already skipped towards the stairs, humming a cheery tune. "Be careful, Miss! I said no running!" He sighed, shaking his head.

Angela's smile was wide, and her eyes sparkled as she glanced at the new book in her hand. The word "Goosebumps" was bold at the top of the book. The picture had five figures wearing camp outfits, but they had no bodies—no face, legs, nor arms, and they walked in a line in front of a little girl who wore the same camp outfit as the figures. The title of the book read: "Ghost Camp". Seeing it for only two seconds sent a shrill down Angela's spine, and she hid the cover against her chest again.

She would be reading it with her mother today as promised. Her father was overseas for business, and he said he would come home tonight and promised to read her a bedtime story if he came back home before she fell asleep.

Her father was always busy with work, but he made sure they had fun whenever he was home. This weekend, he said they would go to the cabin like they always did during summer. Angela couldn't wait to have fun there and write all about it in her diary when they come back. It had been a few months since her mother gave her the notebook, and she had written many times in it whenever she could. She thought it was very cool to have a diary.

Angela's steps halted as she reached the door to the library when she heard hushed voices inside. Elias said that her mother's editor was inside working with her. She didn't like it whenever her editor was around because he scared her. Mr. IV was a big man—even bigger than her father. She saw him two times already. Once when she and her mother were in a restaurant, and Mr. IV came to their table. He had friends wearing black suits near him who looked scary, but he said they're friendly. Mr. IV came to the house too when her father left for work in France on Monday. Today would be the third time she would see Mr. IV.

The door was ajar when she peeked her little head through the gap, her curious eyes scanning the vast room until she saw her mother with the man.

"Ivan, stop!" Cynthia placed her hands on the man's chest. "I'm serious. You have to go."

"Why, Meelaya? Your husband isn't here," said Mr. IV in a thick accent, slurring his Rs. "Does he kiss you like I do, Meelaya? I'm going crazy thinking about you. Come back with me." Then he pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. She whimpered before giving in and letting him kiss her. 

Angela gasped, then she slapped a hand over her mouth as she stepped away from the door. 

"Shit." Cynthia pushed the man off her, her eyes widening at the door where her daughter was just now. "You need to leave," she muttered before striding out of the library.

Angela froze up in the hallway, unsure of what to do after she got caught. She thought about running away, but this was her mother. She shouldn't feel scared—except at that man doing a kissy-face with her mother. 

"Hey, Sweetie…" Cynthia hesitantly walked towards Angela. "What are you doing here?"

"I… You…" She looked up when Mr. IV waltzed out of the library. "You promised to read with me when we get home," she said in a small voice, her eyes never leaving the giant man.

Mr. IV glanced at Angela, his face devoid of any emotions, before dragging his gaze to Cynthia. "I'll be back for you, Meelaya," he muttered in his thick accent. His jaw tightened as he walked away, leaving the mother and daughter in the hallway.

Cynthia took a deep breath and bent down to Angela's level. "Would you like to read with me in the garden today, honey?" Angela's eyes were still glued at the man's back, and her mother cleared her throat, placing her hands on Angela's small shoulders until her daughter stared at her. "Baby… Can you promise mommy you won't tell daddy what you saw?"

"W-Why?" Angela whispered, blinking while her heart drummed in her chest.

"Because…" Cynthia wrung her hands, a small trembling smile forming on her face. "Daddy will be sad if you do. You don't want daddy sad, do you?"

The little girl shook her head but said nothing.

"Forget what you saw today, okay?" Holding Angela's hand in hers, Cynthia got to her feet and walked her daughter towards the stairs. "Come on, let's go read your book in the garden. Did you eat the muffins with Oliver?"

Angela nodded and answered her mother quietly when she asked questions, the scene from earlier still playing in her head. Her mother told her not to tell her father, which meant it was a secret.

And secrets go to her diary.

So that night, little Angela wrote about her day.

Who knew what she saw was scarier than the book she had in her hands?