94 Finding His Princess Firs

"How is it that you're so brave while saying that to my face when you already know who I am?" he questioned, his voice low and dangerous as his fierce grey eyes locked with hers.

She would be lying if she didn't admit to herself that she felt a chill run down her spine—what with the way he was to her now. He was never like this before—it was as if he was doing this to her on purpose. Was it his point to scare her?

Angela clenched her right hand that was hidden at the side where he couldn't see. Then she answered casually, "Why? What are you gonna do? Kill me?"

His jaw ticked at her question, and his eyes darkened. 

"Is that it?" she probed. "Is that what you would do to people who know your secret? Is that why you brought me here to this... secluded area?" She waved her hand to the beach.

"Are you afraid?" Gael's voice dipped even lower.

The heater inside the car was turned on, yet it was weird how she felt the temperature seemed to have dropped instead. Was it just her? Or was his icy tone affecting her?

She should have run by now. It was at this exact moment where she should have followed what her brain was telling her to do—back away, open the door, and start running.

Angela clenched her right hand even tighter that her knuckles turned white, and she swore that her palm started to sting.

But despite herself, she bravely asked a question that no one could ask easily, "Why? Have you killed people?"

"I have."

His brief answer caused her stomach to twist—she almost felt like puking. 

"Do you enjoy it?" she asked. Stupid question, but her mouth didn't feel like her own at the moment as she bombarded him with questions she didn't really like knowing the answers to. 

And she dreaded for what he had to say—already regretting she asked him that way.

Wishing that he would get mad at her for asking him the question and tell her she was silly.

Hoping he would tell her 'no'.

Gael scoffed at her prodding. It was as if she was waiting for him to confess all his sins to her. 

With a crease between his brows, he looked at her with a glassy stare as he answered, "I don't just go around murdering people if that's what you're implying, Angela. I'm not a psychopath."

'No. But you're a liar… And a heartbreaker,' she thought without taking her eyes off him. He had been staring at her so seriously the whole time. It was evident that he was trying so hard to see right through her, but she refused to show how she was really feeling. And for once, she was proud of herself. 

And when she didn't say anything after that, Gael asked, his voice now gentler than earlier, "How long have you known?" 

Angela heard him, but she didn't answer.

"Have you known all this time?" he clarified. "When we were on the island? Or three years ago?"

She folded her arms in front of her chest—it appeared as if she was hugging herself. "You think I'd be so brave enough to cross you if I knew... believed who you really were for that long?"

"So you knew not too long ago…" He let out a small sigh, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved to know that bit. "What else do you know?"

Angela refused to answer him again. She had been holding back with her answers, and it was frustrating for Gael. It made him think that she was hiding something and it killed him that he couldn't force her to tell him. If she were any other person, he would have already coerced and used methods that the other wouldn't have a choice but to answer.

"Why now?" he probed, and in the next second, he just couldn't help but question her several things at once. "Why do you believe that now? Why not when I told you for the first time? And why are you this angry? Are you mad about the truth? Are you mad that you found out I am not who you thought I was—or was I exactly who you thought I was—and that's why you're mad?"

She snapped her head towards him, evidently annoyed at all the questions he was throwing at her. "Who would believe you? We were both drunk, played the game, and out of our minds then. Besides, I was joking when I said that, and then you rode my joke. So how was I supposed to believe that you were telling the truth then?"

'F*ck! The game. It was because of that childish, stupid game—it's why she didn't believe me,' Gael cursed in his thoughts. He felt acid rise up in his stomach, and he immediately grimaced. 

Three years ago was still a little vague for him, but because Angela brought it up, his mind began to wander to how that night happened—how Gael ended up with Angela on a one night stand.

…

Three years ago, on Hillberry Isle.

The reception of Samantha and Daniel Cho's wedding was in full swing. Everybody was in a party mood except for one man near the bar standing by himself with a drink in his hand.

He was fine on his own until his ex, Becca, came by and stopped before him. She was friends with the bride and groom. They hadn't talked for a long time because of… circumstances. But it was all in the past now, and they had both moved on. 

He liked Becca, but boy was she so… he couldn't think of a word to describe her accurately—she was so 'carefree'. That's the only word he could think of. She was that… until she found something, rather someone, who scared the shît out of her. 

They made small talk. He thought they needed that to get the awkwardness out of the way, in which he didn't mind. And then she asked, "What do you plan to do now?"

Gael took a deep breath. He hadn't thought about it as he had taken a break off from his family—not that he could. But he requested not to be bothered for a while. He was tired of the family business really. He just wanted to get some time off for himself and do whatever he wanted. His dad was right. Once he entered—it would be so hard to get out. Of course, he didn't listen.

Taking a sip from his drink, he stared at nothing in particular and responded casually, "Travel. Business." He shrugged. "Take over the world."

Becca's laugh rang in his ear. "Well… Before you dominate the world—the prince of the underworld must find his princess first." She turned her head from side to side as if she was looking for something.

"Don't… You don't have to—" He shook his head and then followed the direction of her stare, and his eyes landed on a woman at the bar wearing a black dress. She had long, beautiful hair with soft, wavy curls, and her smile brightened up her face just as she stared back at him. Fûck.

He realized how quick Becca was—she had already said something to the woman.

"Hi. My name's Angela," she said.

He glanced at her delicate hand that was extended towards him while his ex stood behind Angela, urging him to smile. She's such a pain.

So with a devilish smile on his face, he received her hand. "Gael."