Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

You know those days when you slept bad and then woke up on the wrong side of the bed—in the wrong position and just know your whole day would suck?

Yeah, that's what's happening to Angela at six in the morning on December 24. It was Christmas eve, and the first hour was already bad luck. Furthermore, she only had five hours of sleep.

She got to bed after changing and removing her makeup last night. It was the only thing she could do as she was exhausted and couldn't bring herself to shower, so she could only do the bare minimum before crashing into her bed. When she woke up, the first thing she thought of was the shower.

However, she didn't know that the hot water wasn't working for some reason. So she groggily got in the shower, turned on the knob, and icy water sprayed all over her skin. Angela screamed and jumped, nearly slipping and falling while trying to turn the water off. That certainly woke her up.

The maintenance came to check her heater, and they told her there was an electricity fluctuation sometime during the dawn that must have caused it. All they had to do was press the reset button, and it worked again.

Because of the mishap, she was now running late and had to rush her morning routine. She didn't have time to make her coffee using the new espresso machine, so she used her Keurig and transferred it into a ceramic tumbler. She also made one for Oliver. Of course, she scalded the back of her hand in the process.

Wearing pencil-cut pants and a slim-fit turtleneck sweater—all in white, Angela came down to the lobby where her brother waited for her. She could have worn a dress or a skirt, but it was pretty cold outside today. He was at the reception, flirting with the staff in his black and dark grey golfing outfit. She shook her head as she approached him, handing one of the tumblers. "Morning."

"Hey, Sis." Oliver winked at the staff and placed an arm around Angela's shoulders as he walked her out of the building. "Isn't the morning so beautiful?"

"Not for me." She furrowed her brows, taking a sip of the hot coffee. Her brows furrowed some more when the liquid burned her tongue. "Son of a wizard!" She gritted her teeth.

"Woah… What happened to you? Don't start throwing spells on me now." Oliver narrowed his eyes at her.

Angela told him about what happened to her this morning as they got in his car. And while she was strapping on her seatbelt, her voice trailed off when she realized something. "Wait, I thought you went home to Oakwood. Why are you picking me up? Why aren't you riding with Dad? Don't tell me you came all the way here just to fetch me?"

He scoffed as he pulled the car away from the curb. "Please. I only said that because it looked like you two needed some time alone. You were sulking the entire car ride when we were headed to the party last night. And it was pretty obvious you wanted more time with him." He pointed his index finger at her. "I saved you from hundreds of questions Dad would have asked—have you ridden with us."

She blinked, unsure of how to respond to her brother. Oliver could also be perceptive and him doing that last night… She didn't know whether to thank him or what.

"Why would you do that…" she muttered, not really asking a question, and then drank her coffee.

"I love you, but I can't deal with womanly issues, Sis. That De Luca must really have long patience." He grimaced. "Did you talk about whatever's going on between you two?"

"Nothing is going on between us. We're fine."

"Sure. Salt is also sweet," he said in utter sarcasm.

The traffic light turned red, and he stepped on the breaks harsher than he should've while she sipped her coffee. He frowned. "Wait—it's not anything about...intimacy...is it? Oh, shît—"

"Damn it, Oli!" Angela yelled, frantically wiping the spill on her white top. Now it had a blob of light brown in the middle of her chest. Of all the days she wasn't wearing a stain-resistant white blouse.

"Sorry." He handed her a box of tissues. "You want me to turn around so you can change?"

She sighed. Really… Her morning was pure bad luck today. "No. Forget it. We'll be late. You know what Uncle Wilfred says if we're not there when he arrives."

Putting the tumbler into the cup holder, she decided to hold off drinking it until they arrive at the golf course. Angela tried to clean off her sweater, blotting some tissue to absorb the liquid as much as she could, but there's still a stain. She was having a bad day, and it seemed to get worse each time.

Oliver drove more carefully this time as they approached the golf course right outside of Mayne City. She closed her eyes as if mentally preparing herself. Gael did tell her he wanted to be there, but she'd never heard of him since last night. He didn't show up this morning either—not that he said he would. So while she tried to stay positive last night, that positivity was slipping away as her morning rolled into a thick mud of misfortunes.

So once again, Angela reminded herself not to expect. After all, Shakespeare did say: Expectation is the root of all heartache. And she was tired of it.

***

The gear shifted, causing her to open her eyes just in time to see that they were entering through the gates with an overhead signage that read: The Platinum Club Resort and Golf Course.

The Platinum Club was an exclusive social club for the elites across the country with less than a thousand members. They had access to special events that were usually unavailable to the public. The admin was strict, and although the membership extended to the member's spouse and family, some factors still needed to be considered before they were given the privileges. Most of the Su families were members. Some other old-money families in Esmea were also members: the Parks, the Youngs, the Chos, and the Kims.

Once the car was parked, Oliver and Angela got out and headed towards the lobby. He had a golf bag in tow while she carried a messenger bag and the two tumblers. She could play, but she wasn't much into golfing. Even though she wore a golfing outfit, she wasn't going to play. Today was for the men while the women stayed on the sidelines—more mandatory chitchatting.

Compared to last night, though, not everyone in the Su Clan was here to golf. It was more of a sibling tradition, so only Angela's father, Uncle Wilfred, Aunt Linda's husband, their sons, and a couple of their male cousins participated.

"Looks like Uncle Wilfred is not here yet," Oliver remarked, a smile forming on his face as they reached the lobby.

"Yeah…" Angela answered in a low voice while scanning the area, her heart sinking to her stomach. 'He's not here.'

"Ha! You're late, Oli." Aunt Colette appeared behind them, patting Oliver's arm as she joined them. "Your uncle's already enjoying his morning tea at the clubhouse."

"Crap." Oliver hurried in his steps, leaving the two women behind him.

"I didn't know you were coming…" Angela told Aunt Colette.

"Wilfred and George clicked last night," Colette said in a sing-songy voice. George was her new husband.

The two headed towards the clubhouse and just as Angela stepped into the room, the dragons in her stomach roared to life. She met a pair of beautiful grey eyes staring back at her. The owner of said eyes had a crooked smile on his face as he sat in a chair at a table full of Sus, looking like he belonged so naturally. She swallowed the lump in her throat, unable to take another step, forgetting how to function.

"Oooh… You two even wore matching outfits. Ahh… Youth!" Colette commented before walking away.

That's when Angela realized that the man was indeed also wearing an all-white golfing attire—a white long-sleeved polo shirt and pants. They didn't plan, but it still turned out this way. He checked her out from head to toe and then back up, his smile widening when he probably realized the same thing.

Reluctantly, she took slow steps until she reached their table and heard Uncle Wilfred say in a light tone, "Angie. You didn't tell me Gael is also a club member. I thought I'd have to let him in as a guest, but he was already here when we arrived. He's half an hour early."

Angela flitted her gaze between the two men, unable to utter any sound. She didn't even know he was a member. Gael got to his feet and stood in front of her, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "Good morning."

His lips were cool on her skin. Still in a daze, she cleared her throat and managed to respond, "Good morning."