Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Chapter 180 - Fly Me To New York (1)



Angela had a hard time sleeping when Gael and the others left her apartment. Her place felt really empty when they did, her ears ringing due to the silence. She found it odd because she had been used to being alone at home for days, which never bothered her. Sometimes, she\'d even forget what day of the week it was because of staying at home all the time except when going to the gym a few times a week. But these past few weeks had changed—ever since Gael showed up. 

She didn\'t like what\'s become of her, thinking that she was growing used to having him around. He\'d been here and stayed around her longer than he had in the past. The first one was only an epic night three years ago, the second time was also back on the island for a few days, and this time was the longest. And while she enjoyed his presence, the fear of him leaving again was starting to creep up on her. 

Not hearing from him for months while not knowing what happened to him was one of the worst. Angela started to think if she had done something he didn\'t like, or that he realized he wasn\'t that interested in her, or if she just wasn\'t good enough. How funny was it that even after knowing about his real identity, the first reaction she had in her head wasn\'t about how dangerous he was, but rather: \'So is that why he disappeared? Because I don\'t fit in his world?\'

Sometimes, Angela was convinced that her brain wasn\'t wired the same as normal people. Others who would know about his identity would definitely stay far away from him, but not her. She\'d told herself several times that she should but always ended up doing the opposite.

She hadn\'t even been in a \'relationship\' with him and yet he\'s the only man she found so hard to forget. It was as if there was this invisible string that kept drawing them together even though she\'d already tried to cut it. 

It\'s because of this connection that they had that she thought of ignoring whatever else was holding her back and shoving it under the rug—again—and just see. Whatever happens, happens. 

It was 5:45 the next day when she woke up, unsure of what time she actually fell asleep last night. Angela decided to go for a run around the area to clear her head, still baffled about why choosing to go with Gael to New York was such a dilemma. 

She ran for nearly thirty minutes while constantly thinking pros and cons of going to New York with him. Seriously! It was as if going there was a life or death situation, and she was hanging by a thread. What\'s the big deal anyway? Didn\'t she travel to places too? What was the difference? Why was this so hard? 

Angela didn\'t know it yet but making that decision was hard because her relationship with Gael would change. And she didn\'t know if she was ready for it.

By the time that she was about to go back to her apartment, she passed by a homeless person sleeping on the bench. She kept going until she almost reached the gates of her building, and that\'s when she mentally slapped herself in the face. Gael and his people were going to feed the homeless. What was she thinking twice about? She was elated at the thought of helping out and doing something for these people who obviously didn\'t have a home and would probably not have warm food to eat for Christmas. It shouldn\'t be that hard to decide. She\'d say yes for those people!

Whipping her phone out as she halted on the sidewalk, Angela called him. It hadn\'t even been a full ring, and Gael had already answered.

She panted and quickly blurted, "Am I too late? Do you still have room for me?"

"Yes. Why are you so out of breath?"

"I came out to run...to clear my head...I couldn\'t sleep much last night." She bent over and took large gulps of air, her heart pounding in her chest and attempting to leap out. 

"Wait—where are you?"

"I\'m outside...the gate."

"What? I\'m—oh, I see you. Don\'t move."

Angela noticed a movement across the street, and when she turned her head, she saw Gael coming over. She straightened up, slowly catching her breath as she took in his appearance. He wore casual clothes and was striding towards her with confident steps, his eyes raking over her body before settling on her eyes. "What are you doing out here? Were you waiting for me?"

He stopped in front of her with his hands in his pockets, his scent wafting her nose. It was a mixture of his natural scent, woodsy, and all masculine. "Your place was on the way to the airport. I just thought of checking up on you...maybe you\'d decide at the last minute."

"Why didn\'t you tell me? What time did you arrive?"

"Before six."

She gasped, her brows knitting together. "Gael! What if I decided not to go? You would have waited for nothing."

"You\'re here." He shrugged, looking so nonchalant about what he just did.

"Dummy." She tsked, and then smiled at the thought of him just waiting for her. She thought she was the only one getting so worked up about this. It looked like he was too. "So...is there still room for me?"

A handsome smile ghosted his face, seemingly satisfied with what he heard. "Of course. If there was none, I\'d make one—even if I have to make the pilot leave and fly the damn thing myself." 

She laughed and fought the urge to leap into his strong arms and kiss the heck out of him. This feeling she had every time he smiled was not good for her heart.

"Come on." Gael nodded towards his car. "We\'re going to board soon."

Realizing the sense of urgency, she checked the time on her smartwatch, and she gasped. "Shoot! Ugh. I\'m sweaty, and I need a shower. I won\'t have time."

He ushered her towards the gates of the complex, his hand placed on the small of her back. "Just toss a change of warm clothes into a bag. You can shower on the plane. That way, you can take your time and not rush."

Angela allowed him to guide her back to her apartment. She blinked and nodded absent-mindedly. Flying on a private plane obviously wasn\'t new to her, but showering on the plane while nearly 40,000 feet above the ground? There\'s always a first time for everything.


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