Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Lia sighed from the other end of the line and Giovanni closed his eyes. The sound of her voice was like air to his oxygen-deprived lungs. There was pain and relief at the same time. He couldn't believe that after all these years, she still had this effect on him. He hated her, he hated that he did, and he hated that he had to.

"Listen…" she hesitated, her voice beautifully soft and almost whispering. "I don't have much time. I just wanted to tell you I didn't have anything to do with this."

He could sense the two pairs of curious eyes that his brother and his nephew threw his way. They knew all about her, there was no need to hide. And at this point, he could care less if they saw and hear him having a phone call with her. Yes, there was no need to hide, and yet he felt the need to escape—lock himself in a room and just play the voice on repeat.

Giovanni lazily leaned back, crossed his legs, and swirled the drink in his hand, acting like this didn't bother him at all. A smirk of disdain painted his face. "You sure? For someone who claims she's innocent, you sure called right away to make sure you cover your ass." He chuckled, sounding too cruel. He could imagine her flinching just by listening to him. "To me, that sounds a lot like guilt."

"I swear! Keith… Keith didn't tell me when we flew here. I only found out an hour ago when I saw the news on TV. He says it was a…surprise." Her voice shook. "That he did it for me. I never told him I wanted to go back here. I never would've—"

"I don't fucking care what your beloved boy toy does for you. I don't need to hear about him or your relationship with him. Spare me the boring details. I could never believe anything you say anymore. They're all lies anyway."

"When are you ever going to believe that I didn't lie to you? I kept things, yes, but everything I told you, they're the truth. I did things I couldn't take back, but I had no choice—"

"Bullshit. You always had a choice. And you chose your father—whom you claim to hate so much and yet you're living with the family you loathe. What does that make you? And now… Here you are again. Do you think that makes any sense? But oh, well… What do I know, right? I don't really know the real you."

She choked up and now, he knew she was crying. Good.

Also not good. He never liked it when she did. 

"Keith is a…good person. He's not involved in my father's business. Getting the company in New York is merely business for him."

'Bullshit,' he wanted to say but couldn't. Did she really believe that? Or was she oblivious to the fact that her fiancé was partaking in her father's drug business? His brows furrowed. Part of him wanted to believe her, but he had been burned badly enough that it was just so hard to do so.

"I don't want any of this…" she sobbed.

And that clenched his heart. He got up from the chair and walked away from the table so the two couldn't hear him. They were too quiet that he almost forgot they were there. Listening. Waiting. But he didn't want them to hear what he had to tell her next. This was private.

"Welcome to my fucking world, Lia. Remember what I told you the last time we were in your house? Brace yourself. Better yet, run fast. Because I'm coming for you, love. And this time, I won't hold back. You'll get a lot more things that you don't want. I'll collect every fucking thing you owe me until there's nothing left of you."

"Gio, please…" More sobs.

The sound of a door swinging came from the other line, followed by heavy footsteps. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

Keith. Fucking Keith Perry. Giovanni clenched his jaw as he listened closely, his hand tightly gripping the phone that's pressed to his ear. He should have put the phone down, but a huge part of him wanted to stay until Lia ends the call. It was like torturing himself and yet he couldn't stop it.

Lia gasped and there was a shuffle of sheets as if she had shoved the phone into a fabric, the material scratching at the microphone.

"K-Keith. N-No one. It's just—"

"Give me your phone," Keith demanded, his sound looming darkly.

"Ow! Keith, that hurts! Please—"

"Give me your fucking phone!!!"

"You're hurting me! Let go of me!"

Giovanni straightened his spine, his eyes glaring in concentration at what's happening to Lia. His heart pounded in his chest like it was about to break out as he listened to her cries. The fucking bastard was hurting her. His blood boiled, threatening to explode.

"Ahh!!!"

Silence.

"Lia?" Giovanni called, and paused for a beat before he grunted, "Lia!"

He checked his phone screen and it showed that the call had already been disconnected. Without thinking twice, he dialed the same number that called him just now—the one Lia used—but the phone operator grated in his ear, indicating that the number could not be reached.

Giovanni flipped the nearest cocktail table and the glass shattered everywhere. "Fuck!"

He was livid.

He wanted to break things.

He wanted to kill someone.

Why the fuck was he so mad that the asshole was hurting her? He shouldn't care about that, especially when he just told her he was coming for her—to hurt her just like she hurt him. 

And yet he was.

No, he wasn't feeling like this because he was worried for her. She killed that part of him a long time ago and what's left was nothing but darkness. And that's all he had. No one else was allowed to hurt her—only him. He already decided that the moment they ended.

Yes. That's right. Only him.

When Giovanni turned back to the lounge, he downed the rest of his drink. Gael and Alessandro looked at him with scowls on their faces. They needed an explanation of what just happened and he gave them the short version.

"I'm going to find her," he muttered.

"You're not going to her," said Alessandro. "You're not yourself right now. We can't afford any more fuck ups. This unexpected move from Perry is already going to take the tides. You sit tight and don't do anything. The Morellis might be expecting you to make your move and that will be your end."

Giovanni gritted his teeth, feeling frustrated as the phone call played in his head. "I have to find her."

"Why? Because they're having a fight?" Gael questioned, his arms crossed as he gave off superior vibes. The prick. "What are you going to do? It's not like you have any right to interfere in their relationship. What he does to her is none of your business."

The sting on that reality burned in his core and he grabbed the bottle of expensive whiskey, drinking straight from it, his chest heaved up and down from breathing harshly. They both made sense. But he didn't want them to make sense. Fuck.

Alessandro checked his watch and told Giovanni, "Pack a bag. You're going to London."

"No."

"Gio!" Gael warned. No one says no to the Don.

"No?" Alessandro cocked a brow, challenging his brother. "Are you refusing an order?"

Giovanni relaxed his voice a little, but his expression still held anger. "Gael is supposed to go to London. Why am I being shipped off now?"

"Because you need the break. And you need to stay far away in the meantime. Cool down and manage the business there while you're at it. Besides, Gael has to handle this Perry situation."

"How long do I need to stay there?"

"For a few days. Or until I tell you to." Alessandro got to his feet and walked away, muttering, "And clean this up. Someone will get hurt from these shards."

Giovanni drew his brows together as he plopped himself back on the armchair. His brother left without even asking for details on what Gael planned to do. Sandro had always trusted his son. Meanwhile, Sandro didn't trust Giovanni not to do something stupid in New York—hence, he was sending him off to London to do some boring tasks.

Gael let out an exhausted sigh, shaking his head as he picked up his glass from the table. "Hey, shithead. You've got to stop breaking stuff. You owe me a glass and a bottle of scotch." He nodded at the broken table. "And I'm not paying for that."

Giovanni's jaw was tight as he pulled out a black cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up and watching the smoke disappear into the air. Knowing that she was nearer was a lot harder than he thought it would be.