Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

"Heads up!" a man's loud voice sounded not far from them.

Gael's eyes darted to the side just in time to see a volleyball heading towards them. His instinct kicked in, and in the next second, his left hand extended outward to block the ball from hitting Angela's head while his other arm went around her to cover her head.

Angela let out a small gasp, startled at what was happening. One second, she was just sitting there—the next, she was shoved into his embrace. 

A male resort guest came to get the ball and apologized to them before going back to his friends. Gael muttered something in Italian under his breath. And although she didn't understand, she could guess that he just swore. 

She froze and remained unmoving while looking up at him, wondering what he was thinking until he realized that he was still holding her. He looked down, and their faces were only a few inches away. The thumping of her heart grew louder, and the urge to lean more into him became stronger.

However, unlike earlier, his senses made him retreat, and he slowly released her from his hold just as she backed away. 

Before they could say anything, Riccardo came. The latter whispered something to Gael's ear before handing him a smartphone. 

Gael glanced at the phone screen and read the caller's name—Giovanni. A crease formed on his brows as he received the phone and turned to her. "I need to take this," he said.

She nodded and smiled at him. "Okay."

Watching him walk away to take the call, Angela shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind and mumbled, "This is not good, Anj. You can't do this to yourself." She shouldn't be having these feelings. She refused to allow herself to catch feelings for Gael. After all, when this trip ends, they would go their separate ways.

Just as she was buried in her thoughts, her phone rang. A soft sigh escaped her lips, seeing that it was her father. He had sent her several messages in the morning, and she didn't want to respond. So now he was calling her. Knowing that she would have to respond to him soon, she decided to answer the call.

"Dad?"

"What time are you coming back?" Mr. Su asked, his voice was toneless.

"I'm not sure what time exactly. I'd have to check the flight schedule to know when the plane is leaving. I'd probably arrive around midnight."

There was a pause on the line and the sound of papers being flipped; she could tell that her father was still working in his office.

"As soon as you know your flight schedule, let me know. Or call Oliver so he can fetch you at the airport," he said.

"It's okay. I can take a cab. It would be pretty late for you to pick me up." Angela stared at the paper bag that had barbecue inside. She opened it and took one stick out.

"It's precisely why you need to be picked up. It's late, and it's dangerous to take the cab alone. Besides, we need to talk, so I need you to come and see me at home. You can sleep in your room for the night, so you won't have to travel back to your apartment."

She was just about to take a bite when she heard her father. Her hand stopped mid-air, and her brows furrowed in curiosity. "Why?" was all she could ask. Ever since she moved out, she would only stay in their mansion a few times a year on special occasions. Sometimes, she would meet her father and brother in the city for lunch or dinner. There weren't any occasions today, so she wondered why he would ask her to go home.

"Do you remember Mr. Burke?"

"From London? What about him?"

"He'll be arriving next week, and his son will come with him. You remember Jason, right?"

Angela clicked her tongue and glared at the barbecue in her hand. She just lost her appetite, already knowing what her father was up to, and it immediately annoyed her. Groaning, she shoved the stick back to the bag and rolled her eyes. "Of course, I remember I-only-eat-marmite-on-toast-and-a-cuppa-tea-for-breakfast-Jason—bloody—Burke."

Mr. Su laughed. "Oh, he already grew up, and he works with his father in the company."

"I'm not going to meet him," she said.

"Sweetheart, it's common courtesy to entertain guests of the family—"

"He is your guest, Dad. Not mine. So it's your job to entertain them. Leave me out of this." She was careful with her tone despite the obvious irritation. 

The image of Jason Burke flashed in her mind. She met him when she was a teen and again a couple of years ago. The man wasn't bad looking and was actually cute, but not her type at all. Especially because he was slightly arrogant and always trying hard to impress her.

"Angela, you're twenty-eight. You have got to start meeting people. Or else, when are you going to find a husband? Nothing is happening in your life. We've talked about this already—"

"No, Dad. You talked about this. I never agreed on anything. And I'm only twenty-eight for heaven's sake! You make it sound like I'm going to expire or something."

Angela had enough. They had been having similar conversations since last year, and she didn't know why her father was adamant that she should find a man to marry. Weren't fathers normally more strict with their daughters? Others wouldn't even want their daughters to get married or date for that matter. She groaned, feeling like her father was trying to sell her off to get rid of her.

"Nevertheless. You will meet the Burkes. Jason isn't bad. The man's smart and established. You just haven't given it a chance to get to know him yet. Who knows, you might just end up marrying him," he said.

"Dad, I'm going to marry whoever I want. And it certainly won't be any of your business partner's sons. I have to go. I'll text when I land. Bye." She ended the call without waiting for his response.

Angela noticed a presence nearby, so she turned and looked up, realizing that Gael had come back from his phone call.

"Your dad called?" he asked.

She wanted to shrink. He didn't like that he heard it. The thought of Gael knowing about her being married off to someone made her heart sink."You heard…"

"Only the last part." He kept his voice low as he sat back down next to her. Although he didn't hear everything, it was enough for him to guess what it was about. And after his call with Giovanni, hearing Angela talk about 'marriage' was like a rotten cherry on top of sour ice cream. 

She chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of what to tell him, so she asked instead, "Do you know when we're leaving?"

"Why? Are you in a hurry?"

'Definitely not. I'd rather stay here forever,' she thought. "No."

And Gael thought the same.

"Our flight will be at 9:45 tonight." He checked the time on his watch and counted the hours until then, wishing that the time would go slower.

"I see…"

Turning to face her, Gael met her eyes as he asked, "We still have about four hours left. What do you want to do?"

Matching his gaze, Angela took a deep breath and formed a smile on her lips. The setting of the sun made his eyes look even more dreamy—she could stare at them for hours. If only that were possible.

"Make the best out of the hours we have left on this island," she said.