"You go on ahead and wait for me in the car. I just need to talk to a few people first," Gael softly spoke above her head when they reached the reception.

Angela didn't respond, nor did she glance at him as she walked out of the club, taking her coat with her as she passed by a guard who took their coats earlier. Gael wondered if she was okay. She hadn't spoken since they left the second floor, and her expression was unreadable.

He scanned the room, spotted the club's head of security, and nodded at him—the same guard who was right behind Angela when they were on the second floor's bar earlier. "Inform all the other Empires and ban him there too. Do the same for all of the Manors." The Phantom's Empire in Brooklyn was just one of his clubs. There were others all over their territory in the North East of the U.S. Meanwhile, the Manors were Giovanni's.

"I have an order from Phantom..." Once Gael heard his head of security relay his order through the phone, he turned to Ruth—this club's manager—who came out from the bar.

"Ruth."

"Phantom."

His jaw ticked. He had told them to stop calling him by that name, but habits die hard. "How's Jillian?" he asked, his voice softened as he thought of her sickly daughter.

A sad smile broke her face like she was trying to stay as strong as she could. "She's hanging in there. Thank you for sending the toys."

He nodded. "Tell all the branches to close from 23rd to 26th. You guys deserve a holiday break." Then he reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, took out a couple of hundreds, and handed it to her. "Get off early tonight and buy Jillian's favorite food from that place."

"Oh, I can't accept that—"

"Yes, you will." He stuffed the bills in her hand, which she gingerly received. "Take care of the club."

He turned to leave, but she called behind him.

"Boss?" When he glanced over his shoulder, she asked, "Who is she? She's very pretty."

Without asking her to clarify, Gael already knew she was talking about Angela. A smirk ghosted his lips as he glanced at the woman in question who was sitting at the front passenger seat of his Escalade. "My winged princess."

Then he walked out of The Phantom's Empire and headed straight to Angela's door to check on her. "Hey, I…" He trailed off when he noticed her ruminating with a crease between her brows. "What's wrong?" He tried to reach out, but she retracted her arm so he couldn't touch her.

Gael's hand suspended in the air for a few seconds before he pulled it back and shoved it in his pocket. The rejection stung.

Angela was mad.

He thought about what could've caused this, and then he was reminded of what happened earlier. That's when he realized that he acted violently in front of her, choking that bastard like it was nothing. 'Shît,' he cursed in his head. It must have reminded her of what her ex did to her.

A sudden pressure tightened his chest, the hands in his pockets clenched as he tried to control his breathing. This was similar to what happened with Becca years ago when she saw him do something worse. What Angela saw today was nothing compared to that, and she was already recoiling from him. What more would she do if she had seen much worse?

His jaw tightened as he lowered his gaze, unable to look at her. "I'm sorry you had to witness that."

A loud huff came out of her as she folded her arms under her chest. He raised his head, and she furrowed her brows deeper. She still refused to look at him, and it was killing him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought you inside. You didn't have to see that—"

"Right. That would have been much easier for you if I wasn't there, huh?" Angela's sarcasm dripped and slashed his chest like a sharp knife. "It would have been convenient for her to have her hands all over you."

"It would've been—wait...what?" He narrowed his grey eyes at her, confusion written all over his face. What was she talking about?

"Was she one of your bimbos?" Angela snapped her eyes at him.

Gael blinked. He seemed to be suffering from whiplash from the unexpected turn of events that he rubbed his nape. She's mad about Scarlett? What the fûck?

He must have looked so dumb from being unable to respond to her. And she might have taken it as an affirmation because hurt laced her expression.

"So, it's true? She is really one of your girls... Did I screw up what's going on between you two by interrupting earlier? Then you shouldn't have brought me here if you knew—why the heck are you smiling!"

Gael didn't even realize he was grinning until she snapped at him—he couldn't help himself. Here he was worrying about what she must have thought, seeing how he choked that asshole in front of her when she was actually jealous over some barbie. A strong urge to kiss the jealousy out of her overcame him.

Sliding a hand under her hair, he cradled the back of her head, and he leaned in.

"What are you doing?" She pressed her hands on his chest and stopped him, her expressive brown eyes slightly widening. He could see the anticipation, but she was trying to fight it.

"You're jealous," he muttered. It wasn't a question. He knew she was.

Angela dropped her gaze and looked away, but her hands remained on his chest. "I don't have a reason to be."

"That's what jealous people say."

She shrugged, still refusing to look at him as she casually reasoned, "You pushed her away the first time. I only did you a favor when she did it again."

His grin became even wider. She looked too adorable when jealous. "You did, did you?"

"S-Stop smiling. You look...stupid."

A deep-throated chuckle escaped him as he leaned closer to her. "How come the best-selling author, Galatea K.S., look like she's having a hard time forming words? You don't have to be embarrassed..."

"I am not…oh..."

His lips dipped to her neck, then he ran his nose down her skin, inhaling her sweet fragrance. "Yeah? 'Cause it feels like you are," his raspy voice made her shudder as he nibbled on her skin until her breathing became heavy. The hand on his chest that was stopping him earlier was now pulling him in. He flicked his tongue on the sensitive spot below her ear, and she moaned.

Then his phone rang—Giovanni's assigned tone. He whipped out his phone but kept his nose buried in her neck, not wanting to lose her scent. "I'll break your nose when I see you. You have such horrible timing," he said as soon as he answered the call.

"I love you, too, brother. Where are you? We're here. You coming?"

Gael sighed as he pulled back and raised his head until he was level with hers, and they were just inches apart. The haze in her eyes was proof that she ached for more. "I'm at Empire. I'll be there." He ended the call without waiting for a response.

Cupping her face, he ran his thumb along her bottom lip and promised, "We'll continue this later."