Gael's Naughty Angel: A Mafia Prince Romance

Katherine turned on the two-way video conference on the tablet. Then she introduced her friend named Styles, who, according to Damien, was an IT expert. Katherine said they usually didn't do videos with people they just met because apparently, Styles was sort of hiding. From who, they didn't elaborate. However, Katherine thought that Angela might trust Styles more if she saw his face.

Styles didn't look like what Angela thought an IT expert would look like. He looked to be about her age—wore a pair of black-framed glasses, a navy blue and white striped button-down shirt, and coiffed hair. His features reminded her of Matt Bomer. Styles stared at her, his lips opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Angela glanced at Gael before looking back at Styles, a little baffled as she subtly waved at him in greeting. "Uh… Hi?"

"H… H…" Styles cleared his throat and looked sideways.

Katherine and the Park men stifled a chuckle, and then she said, "He's a little shy around the ladies. I think he means to say: 'Hi. You look pretty.'"

Styles knitted his brow and adjusted his collar as if it was choking him. "Q-Queen," he muttered.

"Right." Katherine smiled. "He needs details."

Styles spoke this time, but he addressed Katherine directly, "Tell me where to look."

Katherine looked between Angela and Gael, waiting for directions. It was Gael who answered in a clipped voice, "It's on wetmarket dot triple x."

A pop-up showed the tablet was low-battery. "Oh. Sorry. Let's move to the bigger screen. I need to plug this in," said Katherine as she was already heading towards the living room, plugging in the tablet on a charging dock. Styles's face sprung up on the smart TV where everyone could see him working on his keyboard.

Then, Styles's video turned into a small window on the bottom of the screen and a website pulled up, occupying the rest of the screen and showing all kinds of pornographic videos that ranged from regular porn to battery and sexual abuse. Several featured videos were currently live.

"What the hell," Giovanni and William muttered at the same time.

Everyone stood before the big screen, waiting for Styles to do his magic.

"This looks like an exclusive site. What do I search for?" Styles asked.

Gael exhaled a harsh breath as he typed something into the search bar.

"Angela and The Marine? How original," William quipped.

The women gasped when a thumbnail showed the results. It was Angela's unconscious face, lips parted, a belt tied around her neck, her eyes closed, and her head was tilted sideways while a hand grabbed her hair from behind.

Gael looked at Angela, and her body went rigid. He reckoned this was the first time she saw it. He wanted to stop it now, not wanting the others to see her like this.

Styles's keyboard continued to clack as he spoke, "It's still active. There are viewers at the moment, and the video is currently receiving donations as we speak."

Diverting his anger, Gael said, "My guy could only get me to…watch it without actually registering an account for the subscription. Beyond that, he couldn't tap into the database to delete."

"Give me a sec."

A new window popped up on the right, and it looked all gibberish to many in the room. Styles's fingers danced across the keyboard in lightning speed as he typed codes that only he could understand. "Their security is so tight," said Styles with a sigh, his expression focused.

"So you can't do it?" Giovanni questioned in a voice laced with danger.

Without stopping what he was doing, Styles responded in a calm tone, "I only said it's tight. I didn't say it's impossible. Not for me, at least. I just need a few minutes."

No one spoke while they waited anxiously. Gael slid his hand to Angela's. Her eyes were still glued to the thumbnail. He tried to draw her stare towards him gently, but she recoiled from his touch, refusing to break her focus from the thumbnail. He knew this was hard for her. He just wished there was something else he could do.

"I'm in," said Styles at the last click of his keys. He leaned back, grabbing a pink tumbler with cat ears on it and then taking a generous sip.

"Is that mine? I thought I lost it," Katherine murmured.

"Finders keepers." He smiled lazily.

"You're…in?" Gael asked, his back straightening with anticipation.

"Yup. I can remove it. Just say the word."

Gael gaped at Styles as if he couldn't believe what he heard. Just who was this guy? "Delete it. Now," he managed to say after a moment.

Styles lifted his fingers back onto his keyboard, ready to execute the command—only to halt mid-air when someone stopped him.

"Wait!" Angela rocked forward.

"Angel…" Gael wondered why she interrupted.

"Play it."

"Don't." He squeezed her hand. 

Without taking her eyes off the screen, she bit out, "Play. It."

"You don't have to watch it."

"Yes, I do!" She snapped at him, her eyes instantly watered. "I have to."

Someone must have given the signal because the video started playing on the big screen, their heads turning towards it.

Angela held her breath as she watched herself being manhandled by Evan. He gripped her by the hair and hauled her towards the camera. She was still clothed but unconscious. Angela couldn't hear anything despite the functioning audio. It was as if she had gone deaf.

Evan was wearing his uniform—such a big disgrace to all honorable Marines. He tugged her back and tied her up on the bed, pulled out his knife, and without second thoughts, he sliced her dress with precision until she was naked, his hands trailing down her body possessively, grabbing and groping her everywhere. Angela let out moans that were born not out of pleasure, rather of disorientation.

"Leave. Everyone. Out!!!" Gael roared, his chest heaving in anger. He should have made everyone leave earlier, but his mind went into overdrive the second the video started to play, and he could only glare at the screen, wanting to murder that man. He only remembered there were others around them when Evan began groping her.

The air was thick with tense bodies. Damien pulled Katherine with him and headed out the front door. Giovanni, William, and Amelia quickly followed suit, leaving only Gael and Angela in the room. Styles's camera was still on, but even he left his gaming chair and went somewhere else.

Angela continued to watch the scandalous video. There were live comments on the right of the screen, and cyber money donations rang out every so often as if the other users were watching some kind of premier entertainment and tipped generously.

She felt numb seeing Evan touch her everywhere in between slaps and chokes. It was as if she saw someone else on the bed—not her. She couldn't remember how it felt. Angela used to hear incoherent noises and voices in her head when she tried to remember that night, but today, they were gone. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as a wave of sickening anger burned up within her.

"Baby… You're shaking," Gael murmured, pressing his forehead on the side of her head. He held her against him with his eyes closed because he didn't want to see her getting abused anymore. It was too hard—too much for him. He didn't want her to see this.

Something hot and wet landed on his arm, and when he checked on her, she was watching the video with a blank, unreadable expression. It pained him to see her this way.

A sob came out of her, and she pressed her hands to her mouth. "My baby…"

Gael glanced at the screen just in time to see Angela's bloody thighs and bloody sheets before Evan stopped the video. He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

Angela pulled away from him and stalked out of the cabin. She moved so fast; it took Gael a second to go after her. "Angel!"

Outside, everyone witnessed as Giovanni held Evan down the dirt. A filthy rag was shoved into Evan's mouth, and a black cloth covered his eyes. They couldn't risk him seeing his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were tied behind him together, causing his body to arch at a painful angle. This was Giovanni's doing; Gael knew it.

Giovanni glanced at an approaching Angela as he took a drag at his newly lit cigarette. He didn't say anything when he held the cigarette stick and drove it down to Evan's neck, burning the skin. Evan grunted, but it was merely a few seconds until the stick died. "That's just a warm-up."

Angela approached them, scowling at the hateful man on the ground. Myriads of images flashed in her head—all of them were the times when Evan verbally and physically abused her. Her chest heaved up and down fast as she got closer, her hands trembling in a fury. No one stood in her way.

She glanced to her right where Trigger was standing over Evan. Without thinking, she snatched the gun holstered at the back of Trigger's waistband and pointed it at Evan.. Then her finger dangerously brushed the trigger.