"And you're confident that you can change my mind?" Angela retracted her hand from his grasp and folded her arms in front of her.

"I prefer the term 'optimistic'." Gael mimicked her movement, and the muscles in his arms bulged when he did.

It didn't intimidate her that he was taller, bigger, and definitely more masculine. If anything, she felt proud of herself that she could stand in front of him—someone who, according to others, was a ruthless mafia. She just couldn't see it in him. Or maybe… he just hadn't shown it to her yet.

A tinkling sound from a bicycle bell came from the side, and just as she turned her head to look, Gael had circled an arm around her waist and pulled her towards him.

She was pressed against his hard chest like sliced cheese being forced between sliced ham and bread—she instantly melted in his warmth—yep, cheese.

"Careful," he muttered when a bicycle passed behind her.

Her brows knitted as she gazed up to look at him, her heart pounding against her chest. He smelled of sandalwood, and it was captivating. She had to swallow as her throat went dry.

"Sorry." He released her and dropped his hands to the sides.

"Thanks," was all she could say before she started walking again.

They didn't speak for a while, and it gave Angela the chance to think about some stuff. Just a few days ago, she had been so pissed when he appeared in front of her after months of being ghosted. It was as though nothing could stop her anger.

A few weeks into waiting like an idiot, she had turned from just being curious to being worried. Then she found out about what he said back on the island, and she began to feel furious. She got sidetracked from her writing, but luckily, she shifted her focus back to the project. But that only meant she had to push the matter about Gael to the back of her mind. So when he appeared again, her emotions went haywire.

It wasn't until Friday and yesterday when the two of them got to talk, and she was able to tell him things that she had been holding in for a while.

But honestly… It was exhausting to stay mad. It was emotionally and mentally draining—physically even.

It felt as if she had to spend a tremendous amount of energy to be angry at him. And she didn't want to go through all the stress. Angela had been there and done that, and it didn't end up well. She only got sick.

Being aware of her mental health, she was very cautious about dealing with things that were happening to her and around her. It's not easy, of course. And most of the time, she would end up still overthinking stuff.

But this… About Gael? She couldn't—for the life of her—figure out the best thing to do. It was easier for her to deal with other things, but whenever it came to him, she would end up doing what she wasn't supposed to do.

The two continued to walk the path that circled the park. She glanced his way and caught him glance at her just in time too. They held each other's gaze as if they were both trying to study what the other was thinking. But both of them kept an unreadable expression, so neither of them knew. It only lasted for a bit before they faced the front once again.

"Something happened... in the family," Gael began.

Angela looked his way. She guessed that he must be talking about why he suddenly disappeared three months ago. Allowing him to speak his mind, she kept quiet and waited for him to continue.

When she didn't respond, he spoke again, "There's a war. And we're in the middle of it. Actually, this had been going on for decades."

"A war within your family?" she wondered. His mafia family.

He nodded.

This had been the first time they talked about it, and Angela didn't know how she was supposed to feel. This was a territory that she wasn't sure how much she could handle.

But this was Gael. There was just something about him that she wanted to uncover. It was like a drug. And she knew that it was bad, but she wanted it anyway.

"How much do you know about our family?" Gael asked.

"Not much." She cleared her throat then asked a question to divert his attention. "Are you allowed to tell me about that war?"

"No." A small smile formed on his lips before he took a deep breath. "But I can tell you a little about it if you want as long as you promise that it stays between us. Not anywhere near your books."

Angela glared at him briefly. "I won't write about you—or this." When he glanced at her, her expression softened, and she resigned with a sigh. "I promise."

"Good. Because they'll have my head and yours if they found out."

He walked fast and stopped in front of a bench. He sat on it and patted the space next to him. His words sent shivers down her spine, but instead of backing out, she walked over and sat beside him, leaving a foot-wide gap in between.

Gael leaned against the backrest and decided to trust Angela with some information. He wasn't supposed to tell her any of this stuff. But trust and honesty were so important to her, and she was important to him. There was no way he would get her back if he continued to keep her in the dark—that is if she would even accept him wholeheartedly.

"Originally, there were five families—De Luca being one of them," he started. "One of the leaders in the family was an adopted son, so he has no blood relation to any of us. But despite that, the bosses took care of him. That's how he became a trusted leader. But money and power got to his head that he betrayed the family and killed another leader because he wanted to rise in the ranks. He wasn't very smart though, because even though he covered his tracks, he was still found out later.

"Anyway, in the end, our family got split. Some of them went to that traitor's side. We were still large in number compared to them. Since then, we have been in a war." He looked at her and caught her staring at him so intently as if she was listening to a professor discussing a war that broke out in history.

"Does that have anything to do with what happened to you months ago?" she probed.

A cold wind blew past them, and some strands of hair fell to her face. He felt the urge to sweep them away, so that's exactly what he did, and he tucked them behind her ear.

His fingertips grazed her ear, and her toes curled inside her shoes. How could she concentrate on his explanation when his little gestures disturb her focus?

Gael nodded. He took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes as if he was trying to refresh his mind. "I was supposed to have a lovely dinner with my grandmother and some family members that day. They threw me a surprise party in a restaurant on the outskirts of New York."

"On your birthday…"

"Yes." He was quiet for a few beats before he continued, "We were just about to have our meal when all of a sudden, bullets rained the whole place. And I got shot."