Gael’s Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance - Chapter 500

Angela’s head was filled with thoughts of Gael being in danger inside the club where there was a shooting. “This can’t be happening…” she muttered.

“How many are they?” Giovanni questioned Trigger as he inspected his guns. He had two with him now, and then he handed one to Trigger.

Trigger pushed himself off the wall, checking the wound on his stomach. The bleeding had already stopped—so did his gunshot wound on the shoulder, but he still needed medical attention. She already knew calling 911 was not an option, so she didn’t suggest it. “I don’t know their total. The ones who came in through the back door were about ten people. There could be more, coming from the front and the side.”

“Where the hell did they come from? This is gotta be Filippo, but where the hell did he get so many men?”

“I’m sure it’s him,” Angela chimed. “The man who attacked me mentioned Lauretta. She certainly couldn’t pull this off on her own.”

Trigger hissed as he moved. Seeing her friend’s limited movement, Angela snatched the knife in Giovanni’s hand and used it to tear off the bottom part of her dress and start bandaging it around Trigger’s shoulder. While she worked on him, Trigger recalled what happened before he blacked out. “I heard Italians. The rest of them were Ukrainians.”

“Motherfuckers.” Giovanni got to his feet, cocking his gun. “I knew we should’ve ended them first before they got the balls to actually do this shit. You two stay hidden. Salvatore will be here. I need to go inside.”

“I’m coming with you!” Angela shot up.

“No!” Trigger roared at the same time that Giovanni snapped, “Absolutely not! Don’t you hear how dangerous it is?”

“Gael is in there! I can’t just sit here and do nothing while I listen to the rain of bullets!”

“You’re not just gonna sit there. Trigger and Salvatore will bring you somewhere safe.” Giovanni leveled his eyes with Trigger who nodded in agreement.

She started to protest but Trigger squeezed her wrist as if saying, “Don’t argue with him.”

Giovanni scanned Angela’s disheveled state—barefoot, torn dress, one strap barely covering her bra-covered breast, and the skirt of her dress ripped around her mid-thigh because she used it to tie Trigger’s wound. Blood smeared all over her legs, arms, and she had a cut lip. Gael would kill him if anything else happened to her. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered curses under his breath as he shucked off his coat and tossed it around her shoulders before stalking towards the back door.

The ground was hard and rough on the soles of her bare feet, and the wind was cold on her skin, but the only thing that Angela cared about at that moment was seeing Gael. So she followed Giovanni, ignoring Trigger’s grunts and calls behind her.

They were at the door when Giovanni realized she was there. “For fuck’s sake, Angela. You can’t come inside. I don’t think—”

“I don’t care what you think, Gio! My fiancé is inside! If you don’t let me in, I will run to the other doors or climb the roof and force my way through there. So you either let me in now, or I find my way inside, and you can’t stop me.”

His jaw set as he stared her down, but Angela was determined and did not retreat, leveling him with her own gaze.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But you’re not getting out of my sight. So help me, god, if you run on your own—”

“I won’t.” She dropped the coat to the ground. As much as she appreciated the warmth it gave her, it would be uncomfortable to move around stealthily with bulky clothing on her.

Giovanni curled Angela’s hand around his knife and exchanged a look with Trigger. “Cover from the back.” Then he opened the door, and the three of them crouched their way inside.

***

A few minutes ago…

Something wasn’t right. Gael could feel it in his gut, so as he walked over to his father, he asked Rick to check the breakers and the security. His father’s men were already moving too after getting an order.

“We should send the women home. Bring Angela to Nonna’s,” Alessandro said as soon as Gael was within earshot. “I have a bad feeling.”

He readily nodded. “Me, too.” Then he scanned around them, noticing that something was off. “Where’s Lastra and Accetta?” Two Capos who were just here with their wives. The women were still around, but the two made men weren’t. They could be in the restroom, but Gael thought he hadn’t seen them the past twenty minutes.

“Attenzione,” Alessandro said, his voice sounding neutral and unhurried as he casually took a sip of his drink. Then he added, “Ci sono formiche in casa, fai attenzione.” (Attention. There are ants in the house, be careful.) Though his tone sounded calm, all his people had his attention, and they knew what was up.

Shit. Gael’s jaw tensed up. Angela. His heart began to race.

Alessandro gave a silent order to Val to take his brother—her father—out of here. Then he gestured to a few of his men to take his wife, Nonna, and the other aunts home. Thankfully, the kids were already sent home an hour ago.

“I’m going to find Angela,” Gael informed his father, and Alessandro nodded before turning back to his group, speaking in hushed tones while the others were already checking their guns. If Alessandro was right, it was too late to escape for them, but he could at least secure the women and wait for the lurkers.

Striding towards the stairs, two of Gael’s men followed behind him—one of them named Ace handed him a gun. He checked it as he strode across the floor towards where he thought Angela was.

Halfway down the stairs, three gunshots were fired behind him. He snapped his head in the direction of the sound, seeing a few men who weren’t their friends point their guns to where Alessandro was. The Capos near Alessandro jumped in front of their Don at the same time that they dropped to the floor and took cover.

More shots were fired, and Gael dashed back up the stairs with his men, already shooting whoever the fuck was trying to kill his father.

More armed uninvited guests appeared in the club, and bodies started dropping to the floor, glasses shattering everywhere around them.

Gael slid behind a lounge, his men flanking him on either side as they exchanged fires with the unknown attackers. “Who the hell are these fuckers?” he bit out.

“Who else wants your family dead?” Roy yelled over the gunfire, a bullet nearly hitting his ear despite crouching low. “Fuck!”

“Filippo doesn’t have resources for this!” Not only did Filippo lose the Morelli backing, he didn’t have money to hire mercenaries.

A few feet away, a man in tattered jeans and a brown shirt peeked from the corner and aimed his gun at them. Gael swiftly shot him in the head, the man dropping like a fly.

“Ukrainians! Fucking yooks!” Roy gritted his teeth before firing more shots.

Gael needed to find Angela. She could be in grave danger. Carefully peering around the lounge, he could barely see where his father was until Ace to his right told him the Don was near the fire exit with a few of his men. One ranked man and a couple of soldiers were injured or dead in their vicinity.

Gael had fifteen rounds, ten already used up, and an extra magazine on his person. It should be enough to get him downstairs to find her. He’d figure out the rest when he got there. “We need to get Angela out of here. Cover me.”

In the next second, the three of them headed down the stairs, Roy at his front and Ace at his back. As they landed on the ground floor, Rick joined them—he had a cut on his lip and right brow, but otherwise, he was ready for war. The three formed a triangle around Gael.

Docking and shooting their way through, a thud fell behind Gael, and when he looked back, blood gushed out from the hole in the middle of Ace’s chest. Gael’s heart constricted seeing one of his men die. Ace had been with him for six years, survived by his old mother.

“Go!” Rick grabbed Ace’s gun as he assumed Ace’s position and urged Gael to get moving.

Forcing to avert his stare, Gael pushed forward, shooting anyone in their way, who isn’t their family, with more vigor than earlier while counting rounds and avenging the deaths of their people.

Angela.

‘God, please let her be okay,’ he prayed as fear seeped through his bones.

“Shit. I’m out!” Roy yelled, and a second later, Rick followed, “Me too.”

Gael was down to one magazine with only five bullets in it. They were behind the bar, not too far from the restroom where she should be. The gunfire began to lessen, replaced with grunts and whimpers as some resorted to fistfights.

Just as the three of them decided to dash out, two guns appeared above them—one pressed to Gael’s head.. And Filippo’s sickening laugh pierced in the air, “Come out and play with me, Phantom.”