Gael stayed nearly an hour more at the banquet, waiting for his father and the Russian leader to emerge from the closed door. During their group meeting earlier, they talked about the upcoming election that would be happening in a few months. In all honesty, Gael and Giovanni weren't on board with sharing each other's candidates with the Russians, but the consigliere convinced Alessandro that it would be a smart move if they want the Russians to trust them more.

They still hadn't come to that point, though, and tonight's meeting was merely "feeling" each other out and seeing whether the other wanted to collaborate in the elections or if they still kept each other from a safe distance while also doing business together. It's a strange and complex dynamic from a regular person's perspective. But this was nothing new in their world.

​​

It was eleven in the evening when the two leaders came out of the room, both smiling and laughing at something they were privy to. And then it was already midnight by the time Gael arrived at The Phantom's Empire with Giovanni tagging along.

Gael's men from the club bowed in greeting as they passed by them. He didn't spare them a glance as he strode with purpose inside while Giovanni nonchalantly smoked a blunt and dicked around his phone as he walked, not caring for his surroundings.

The two De Lucas were quite different from each other, but also the same in some ways. But one thing they had in common was their people's behavior towards them. They never looked the two in the eye—more than necessary, at least. And whether it was out of respect or fear, it didn't matter. Both reasons were equally enough for their people not to toss a spark to Gael and Giovanni's ever-present fuel wherever they went.

Ruth, the club's manager, greeted Gael and then Giovanni with a smile and a polite bow at the reception area. Loud music was slightly muffled from where they were at the moment, but it was apparent that the party inside was in full swing. Ruth handed him a tablet and a stylus pen, and he barely looked at the screen before signing it, itching to stride away already as he badly wanted to be with Angela since the minute he left the apartment in the morning.

A woman in a slinky, shiny outfit came over with a tray in her hands, serving two glasses with two fingers of amber-colored liquid to them. She was one of the club's servers that specifically catered to the VIP guests. "Drinks, Boss?" She smiled. Gael and Giovanni each grabbed a glass, muttering "thanks" before she walked away. Gael didn't spare the server a second glance, unlike his uncle who followed her hips swaying.

"How's the event?" Gael addressed Ruth and took a sip of his drink.

"It was successful, Sir. Ms. Stewart asked if you were coming by tonight. She wanted to thank you."

"Where is she?"

"Her party is occupying the VIP-2 lounge beside Ms. Su's."

"Thanks, Ruth." He nodded and checked the time on his watch. "It's past midnight. Go home. Sherry can handle the rest of the night," he said, glancing at the junior manager behind the reception desk. Ruth had been working for him for many years. Her dedication was admirable, but she was a single mother and had to sacrifice not putting her child to bed most nights.

After Ruth said her thanks, Gael and Giovanni went deeper into the club and finally joined the swarm of patrons. Despite the loud music and hundreds of bodies grinding against each other, he immediately knew where Angela was. It was as if she was a magnet, and his eyes found her in an instant.

Angela danced with Nina to the left of the now empty stage. He strode towards where she was, past the sea of people, his eyes never leaving the smile on her face. At least she was enjoying herself. The expression on her face was a stark contrast to how she looked while she broke down in his arms last night. He wanted to keep that smile on her face—no matter what he had to do.

Even if one of the reasons she was having a good time was because of the fucking shirtless men dancing on stage a while ago. He sighed. The things he would do for this woman.

There was still some good distance between them as they weaved through the crowd. Angela's smile suddenly turned into a surprise that morphed into a scowl when she turned around and slapped a guy across the face and pushed him away. Gael was momentarily frozen, watching the scene play. Although he didn't know what happened yet, he had a pretty fucking good idea, and he saw red.

Angela and Nina yelled at the man who looked smug even after getting slapped. The man attempted to move closer to them, and Gael began shoving people out of the way in haste. But before the asshat had the opportunity to grab Angela, Trigger wrapped an arm around his neck and dragged his ass away from the dance floor.

All of that happened in merely less than ten seconds, and Gael was still halfway towards them. "Asshole wants to die tonight," Giovanni muttered right behind him.

Gael didn't respond as he strode faster, meeting Trigger by the bar. The latter still had the man in a chokehold.

"Boss. He grabbed her," Trigger grunted with a menacing scowl on his face when he noticed the arrival of his boss.

"Take him out the alley," Gael barked out the order, slamming the glass he had been carrying in his hand on the bar counter. A vein in his temple ticked as his eyes darkened at the sight of the man he'd have the pleasure of breaking that night.

His men followed, dragging the asshole who was pointlessly protesting. Patrons watched the scene, but none of them dared to interrupt. Most of them knew who Gael was—and Giovanni, and it would be stupid if one of them intervened.

Instead of going to Angela, Gael headed straight to the side exit, only to be stopped by a delicate hand clutching his arm.

He looked to the right and met Angela's gaze. She didn't say anything, but so many questions filled her eyes, especially since she saw the rage in his grey ones that had now darkened.

"Angel." Gael softened his gaze, the tension on his shoulders lessened—but not completely. "Sorry, I'm late."

'Just a few fucking seconds late. If I hadn't stopped at the reception, I would've gotten to you earlier,' he thought but didn't say. He was holding his anger inside, and talking wasn't helping.

"What are you gonna do?" Her brows knitted in concern—for him, not for the sick bastard, obviously.

"Teach the fucker a lesson," he said under gritted teeth.

Angela tightened her grip on his arm as if wanting to stop him from doing it, but she knew he had to, and she understood that.

Gael leaned in and pressed his lips on her forehead. "Are you okay?" She nodded. "Where did he touch you?"

She swallowed, unable to tell him. But Nina didn't hold back. "The shîthead grabbed her boobs and said nasty things."

A dark switch flipped inside him, and he clenched his jaw so hard his teeth could have broken. Then he whispered to her ear, "Wait for me at the lounge. I won't be long."

And before she could stop him, he backed away and strode towards where his guards disappeared. Giovanni walked next to him with his hands in his pockets in a casual but dangerous manner. Gael removed his tux jacket and tossed it to Rick and began unbuttoning the cuffs of his white long-sleeved shirt.

"Boss, he's Makarov's son," said Rick, earning Giovanni's scoff. Makarov was one of the trusted men who's working under the Russian crime leader—The Pakhan. Makarov was also there at the dinner party.

A threatening smirk ghosted Gael's face as they approached the exit door. Then he bit out, "I don't fucking care who he is—even if he's the goddamn president's son. No one touches Angela."