Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

The patrons in the club started panicking. Some screamed while others gave the bar area a wide berth. Usually, the guards would stop the fight if some patrons started it and throw them out of the club. This time though, the soldiers in suits formed some kind of a semi-circle around their bosses, not allowing anyone else to come near them—as if they were having an officiated fight in a ring.

"Here we go again." Trigger sighed as he stood at the end of the bar, watching the show several feet before them. "Twenty bucks says Gio will end up with a black eye."

"Ha!" Salvatore, Giovanni's lieutenant, scoffed. "Make that fifty. Gio will retaliate on that busted lip and do the same to Seb."

Rick, who was casually going over some receipts behind the bar, joined in. "Double or nothing.. All three of them will get a black eye. And Sebastian will be clingy when Boss leaves tonight."

Trigger and Salvatore exchanged glances. They both knew Rick was referring to Gael as Boss. They were skeptical, especially since Sebastian came pretty pissed that night. And if he was pissed, it would take him days before he cooled down. The guy's a little crazy. 

Trigger, Salvatore, and Rick agreed on the deal and watched the shit-show play out.

Sebastian De Luca was an inch or two taller than Gael with an athletic build. He mostly wore leather jackets, white shirts, distressed dark jeans and boots—basically a biker fashion—and he did ride a bike too. He took off his jacket and threw it to the side, preparing for the other two advancing on him, showing full sleeve tattoos on both arms. The brothers had a slight height difference, but Gael had broader shoulders, and he stood with confidence that he could take down the other—proven many times in the past.

Gael rounded Sebastian and lifted his chin, looking superior despite the tiny drunken slur in his words as he spoke in Italian, "Who do you think you are coming at me like that? You punch like a pussy. A little girl hits harder than you."

Sebastian, not afraid of the older brother, threw his head back in laughter. "Says the man who's head over heels over a girl. Yeah, that's right, brother. I know all about your ass falling for an Esmean girl. You think you're making a Hollywood movie or something?"

Giovanni couldn't help but chuckle at that. He and Gael were closing in on Sebastian, covering front and back.

Then Sebastian slightly tilted his head towards Giovanni as he added, "You're no better than Old Man over here who slept and fell for the enemy's daughter. What a bunch of losers—"

BAM!

With his brother's momentary distraction, Gael struck him in the face. Sebastian tried to evade, but the punch still managed to hit him in the eye. That would surely end up bruising. Sebastian clicked his tongue and growled as he lunged on his brother, then the three of them brawled into a messy fight.

Punches and kicks were thrown—some landed, some missed. All three of them only used their body and had no weapons. The club seemed to stand still. At first, the DJ stopped the beats, and the crowd went silent as they watched them throw banter at each other. Then when the fighting began, the patrons chanted "fight fight fight" like they were egging on high schoolers. Most of them knew the De Lucas. They didn't get to see this too often, which thrilled them to watch the action first-hand. Seeing as everyone was clearly enjoying the scene, the DJ played upbeat music, causing the walls to thump again. 

After what seemed like a long time, when really, it was only a couple of minutes, the three of them were panting.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Sebastian held his hands up as he tried to catch his breath. "This is unfair. Two against one."

Gael spat bloody saliva to the side, the metallic taste lingering in his mouth. He stopped and leaned a hand on the bar to steady himself. The top of his white shirt had been ripped when Sebastian had grabbed him. Then, he remembered what Sebastian said earlier, and he remarked—still in Italian, "You're one to talk. You fell for a thief."

Giovanni coughed and laughed, already grabbing a glass and pouring himself a drink, then tossing it all back in one shot. He had a busted lip, and a bruise started to form on his left eye. "I can't believe you got fooled by a con artist, slept with her, then she stole your toy doll."

"Hey! It's not a toy doll!" Sebastian scowled. He was no better. There was a cut on his brow and a bruise on his eye where Gael had punched him. "It's a 1978 Darth Vader valued at 22K, alright? Also, I got that back. And why the fuck does that matter? We're all thieves anyway."

The patrons had gone back to dancing as if nothing had happened, though they threw occasional glances at the three, wondering what that was all about and how crazy they were for fighting and then acting like it was a daily occurrence. They were still speaking in Italian, so probably no one except the De Lucas understood the last part that Sebastian said.

The three of them laughed, finding the hilarity at the younger man's statement. It was true in every sense of the word.

All banged and bruised up, they sat at the bar stools with Sebastian between Gael and Giovanni. The bartender and Rick handed them each a clean tea towel with crushed ice inside.

They didn't speak for a while, too exhausted from what just happened. Gael glanced at his brother, who was cursing under his breath while pressing the towel on his face, and noticed that he looked better than the last time he'd seen him—minus the bruises.

Sebastian De Luca was twenty-six years old. He used to be thin and had bloodshot eyes from drug abuse years ago, back when he used to stay in Florida. Sebastian was a pretty troubled kid, and it only got worse as he got older. Then he met some truly shady people—the kind that his family frowned upon—and got himself into trouble that Gael and Giovanni had to find him in Miami and bring him back home. It took them nearly three days, all while trying to avoid more problems. They found him next to a dumpster, almost dead from an infection of a poorly treated wound that he got from a fight.

After a week in the hospital, Alessandro sent him to rehab in Italy. Gael thought that his brother should be clean for a while now—at least, he hoped so. Their relationship didn't start out great, and it had been rocky more times than he could count. It was pretty complicated.

After finishing one last shot, Gael got off the stool and handed a hundred-dollar tip to his bartender. He was ready to leave. Today had been a roller coaster of clusterfucks, and all he wanted was to go home as planned. "I'm outta here." He clapped the shoulders of the other two.

Sebastian whipped his head fast, his brows drawn into a furrow, disappointment swimming in his eyes. "But I just got here!"

Gael could tell that while Sebastian had always been hotheaded and they didn't really get along well, his younger brother seemed to seek his approval—especially recently. "What, want me to hold your hand?"

"Oh, fuck off."

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

Giovanni stepped off from his stool too and grabbed Sebastian's arm. "Come on. Stand up. Let's go clean up your face. Stupid kid. Are you a child? You can't just punch people every time you're angry."

Sebastian got to his feet and asked his brother, "Where are you going anyway?"

Gael paused, then a devilish smirk ghosted his lips. "To film a goddamn movie."

***

In the backseat of the Escalade, Gael stared at his phone and contemplated whether he should call Angela or not. He got a text from her earlier, saying Nina was taking her out for some drinks. But Santiago updated him and said that the girls had come home an hour ago. It was currently ten in the evening.

Gael put his phone away and told Rick as they pulled from the curb in front of Phantom's Empire, "Drop by the house first. I forgot something."

Rick checked the time on the dashboard and looked at him through the rear-view mirror. "The flight's in thirty minutes, Boss."

"Then drive faster." Gael shook his head. It's not like his pilot would fly to Mayne City without him.