Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Lunch wasn't anything special for Angela and Gael. They chose to dine at a restaurant nearby that had an outdoor area by the sidewalk. Both of them chose an outdoor table, wanting to enjoy the sunshine because it had been raining a lot recently.

While waiting for their bill after lunch, Gael decided to ask, "Tell me about the third book in the series." He leaned back casually, adjusting the pair of sunnies that covered his grey eyes.

"Chasing Flame," she replied after sipping her cappuccino.

Cocking a brow in question, he tilted his head and probed, "Flame? You named your character Flame?"

"Not this time. I meant flame—like an old flame… Old lovers. And flame like fire. Fire-like passion." Setting the cup back on the table, Angela crossed her legs and calmly watched the passersby on the sidewalk.

"Sounds intense. What's the story?"

"College lovers who broke up and found each other again after an accident. They were each other's firsts…"

"Why did they break up?"

The question made her look at him. It made her wonder why he was so interested in her books. If she didn't know about his background, she would definitely not have a clue that he was doing mafia business on the side—or full time. Had he always been interested in these kinds of stuff that she's doing?

Shifting in her seat, she contemplated her answer. "Hmmm… Immaturity. Pressure… Nature? They both weren't ready for a serious relationship." She smiled.

Gael nodded, and in a gentle tone, he wondered, "Sorry, but… Isn't that a bit cliché?"

Despite his question, Angela wasn't offended. "Their back story, yeah maybe… But not the rest of the plot. Also, nothing's really original nowadays. Say… a story about serendipity, from enemy to lovers, or maybe a summer fling that turns into a blissful marriage. Every story is already a byproduct or an inspiration from something that had already been written or produced in the past. It's up to the writers how to put twists in it."

When he nodded but didn't say anything, she added, "Besides, clichés aren't all that bad. There's a reason why people love reading these plots and why readers can't help but reach for them from the shelves."

"And what are those?" he asked.

Angela thought about it for a bit. There were so many reasons why and she could spend hours talking about it. At the moment, she just appreciated that Gael actually wanted to talk about something she likes to do, so she didn't mind entertaining his questions. 

"One, because they want to feel included."

"A sense of belongingness?"

"That's right," she agreed. "Some people find that their personal stories are written the same or differently from the novels they read, and it's like an inexpensive therapist. Just reach for one from the bookstore, and they would feel consoled, thinking that they aren't alone in their battles. Of course, it's not the same for everyone. The stories are relatable… or perhaps, in some ways, it gives them hope?"

Gael's brows slightly knitted. "But they're fiction… If I'm not mistaken, most romance novels end with a happy relationship. What about those who are single and feel like they don't have any hope of finding a partner? Isn't that just sad?"

Angela chuckled at his question. "Are you bashing all the single people out there? A lot of us are single by choice, you know." She sighed. "You're right… it is fiction. It's an escape from reality. It's fun to read, Mr. De Luca."

"Touché. You're smart… and have quite a broad outlook. It seems like you have a lot of experiences." He finished the rest of his espresso and wiped his lips with a white handkerchief, turning his head towards the restaurant's counter when he remembered the bill he asked earlier. It hadn't arrived yet, and he didn't like waiting.

Angela noticed his concern and turned to look at the counter as well. The staff was chatting casually with her colleague. "Well, not the best experiences, but still… they're enough, I guess," she said.

"So what's the problem? Why can't you end the story?"

"I know, right?" She let out another sigh and rested her chin on her hand. She had been bothered by it for a while now. "Honestly… I'm actually torn between giving them a proper closure or giving them a second chance."

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he got more curious. "So… a sad ending versus a happy ending?"

"Well… not really. I mean, having a closure doesn't have to be sad. And it's the same for second chances. Having a second chance doesn't mean it would lead to a happy ending either."

She looked up and stared at him. She couldn't see his eyes clearly because of the sunglasses he was wearing, but she sensed the intensity of his gaze at her. It appeared as though he was giving her statement some thought. 

The door behind him swung open, and the waitress came to their table with their bill. Gael only glanced at the total amount of $28 and placed a fifty-dollar bill in the folder. Then he wrote $22 for the tip before closing the book and standing up, nodding at the waitress who thanked him for the generosity.

Angela thought he was indeed generous despite looking annoyed earlier because of the service. Their waitress didn't exactly provide a top-notch service during their dine-in experience, but he still gave nearly a hundred percent tip. Was he doing this out of habit, out of pity, or he just didn't care? She wondered.

"When is your due for this book?" Gael asked when she got to her feet, and they started walking.

"Around Christmas."

"Then you still have time… Come." He extended his hand out towards her, waiting for her to take it.

"Where are we going?"

Nodding at the establishment across the street, he said, "Arcade. Do you know how to shoot a gun?"

Angela laughed when he revealed a mischievous smile on his face. This man was going all out. First movies, then lunch, and now an arcade? 'Who are you?' she asked in her head.

Sensing her hesitation, he faced her and questioned, "What are you so afraid of?"

'Falling for you,' she answered quietly in her thoughts almost instantly, not daring to say it out loud because it would feel like it's real.

And so she responded, "I'm not."

He wasn't convinced with her answer, yet he didn't call her out on it. "Then you're up for a little competition? Whoever wins buys dessert."

'Clever,' she thought. Whoever would win in the competition, he would still get dessert—that would mean: he would still get to have her time. 

"Shouldn't it be the loser?" she asked.

"That's too boring. Are you in or not?"

Angela shifted her gaze between the arcade and Gael. Lifting her chin up, she cracked the knuckles in her fingers and smiled smugly at him. "Of course, I'm in. In fact, I'm going to kick your ass."

A handsome beam brightened his face upon hearing her answer. He was already looking forward to it. "I'd love to see you try to win, Angel."

Ignoring his waiting hand, she haughtily walked past him and headed straight to the arcade. "Oh, I will win, alright."

Gael chuckled and dug his hands into his pockets as he followed behind her. A full day of Angela—such a pleasant day.