As soon as Angela heard the sound of the door clicking when Gael left the suite, her eyes fluttered open and she couldn't help but stare at the closed door. Her fingers flew to her lips, the lingering feeling of his mouth that was on her just several seconds ago was overwhelming. She was still slightly breathless from that kiss and she wondered what would have happened if his phone hadn't rung. 

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Having drunk too many shots that night, she almost tripped on the way but she steadied herself and locked the door.

Thank god for the lights—this bathroom didn't seem to feel so eerie compared to last night when she saw that veil-like towel on the wall. Her eyes drifted to the mirror to her left and saw that there wasn't a towel on the same spot. It made her wonder if Gael chose not to hang it there anymore after what happened... or was she just reading too much into it?

After doing her business, she washed her hands and splashed her face with cold water. But even after cooling her skin, the images from a while ago flashed in her mind. She could still feel him on top of her even when she was no longer in bed. Her fingers subconsciously traced her arms—the places where he had touched her.

'What happened to 'staying sane', Angela? You just went crazy and dared him to kiss you!' she scolded herself. 'You even initiated the kiss… Straddled on top of him… And the bed…' Clenching the seams of her shirt, she shook her head in an attempt to brush her thoughts away. 

Gael still hadn't returned when she came out of the bathroom. Her eyes became heavy and she thought of going back to her suite to call it a night, but if she left now, she might bump into him in the hallway. She didn't know what to expect after what happened, so she was unsure of what to tell him when she would see him. That was just a kiss, right? A dare nonetheless. 

Not knowing what to do, she sat on the bed and hugged a pillow. Her head was still spinning so she closed her eyes as she didn't want to puke. Maybe she could wait for him to come back... That's probably the best thing she could do at the moment.

…

Meanwhile, Gael was still out in the hallway. It had just stopped raining that night and the weather was calmer with the occasional wind. He was pacing back and forth, blowing out smoke from the cigarette in his hand while holding his phone to his ear with the other. A woman's voice rambled on the other end of the line and he was getting stressed by the second just listening to her, but he could only keep quiet. 

A few minutes later, his phone call finally ended. He contemplated for a minute before calling Riccardo, one of his men, to arrange something for him. After giving a set of instructions, he tapped his phone screen and composed a message.

[Gael: I've arranged a flight for you early on Thursday. I'll see you in NY.]

A few seconds later, he was about to head back inside the suite when he received a response.

[Honey: Grazie! Baci e abbracci] (Thanks! Kisses and hugs)

Rolling his neck from side to side, he let out a long sigh before entering his suite. "Sorry about that—" His voice trailed off as he walked deeper into the room and found that Angela had fallen asleep. She was sitting on the bed hugging a pillow, her left side leaning against the headboard.

With his hands on his waist, he hung his head low and cursed himself. Then, he walked towards her, scooped her up, and laid her in the middle. "At least lie down properly if you're going to sleep," he muttered under his breath, sounding slightly annoyed yet also gentle. 

Gael covered her with a blanket and gazed at her for a while. He had the urge to touch her face, but he stopped himself before he could even do so. 

Then, he got up and went to grab the remaining glass from the table and drank it in one go. He ran a hand down his face and rubbed his nape, seemingly uneasy with everything that's going on. He shouldn't have kissed her. His jaw ticked when he recalled how she looked at him earlier and the way her soft lips tasted when he kissed her. 'Fûck. You're screwed.'

Just as he was berating himself, Angela's phone rang, and by instinct, his head snapped towards the sound that came from the table next to him. An unregistered number flashed on the screen—if he wasn't mistaken, it was the same phone number that called while they were in the restaurant and the same one from the text message he saw last night.

His face hardened at the same time that his eyes darkened at the sight. And because he was already in a bad mood, he decided to make one more dîck move—he picked up the phone call and placed the receiver to his ear.

"Angela…" said the man from the other line. A long sigh came after that, then he added, "I can't believe you actually answered. Where are you? I—"

"Stop calling her. Stop bothering her," Gael spoke in a low, cold tone. He wasn't having any of this jerk. Angela clearly wanted to avoid this man from what he had gathered. And now that no one was stopping him, he just had to steal the chance. He wasn't sure if this man was actually her ex-boyfriend, but he had too many drinks to care—even if he was sober, he was sure that he wouldn't give a fûck either. 

The caller didn't respond right away, probably surprised that a man had picked up the call instead of Angela. Well, good.

"Who the fuck are you?!" the bastard on the other line bit out. 

The caller sounded furious and this only amused Gael that he chuckled upon hearing the question. His mocking laughter was chilling that if someone were to hear him, they'd probably think he was the devil incarnate.

In the next second, Gael's expression darkened as he answered, "Trust me. You can't afford to know my name." Then, he hung up the call before the man could even have the chance to respond.