Chapter 2 I don't care about the rules

Gabriel's POV

Sighing as I held my mother's frail hand in the hospital, I wished she could wake up, look directly into my eyes and talk to me. The moment she was awake, she only said incomprehensible things.

Growing up in a wealthy home where peace and love were just luxuries I couldn't afford, I had to watch my father's constant physical and emotional abuse on my mother.

"She sustained a skull fracture leading to an increase in intracranial pressure and an internal bleeding. The outcomes could be dementia, seizures, disability or the worst possible fate; death." I could still recall the doctor's exact words the first day I took her to the hospital. That was after she had a serious head injury during one of her traumatizing incidents.

Dealing with my troubled past and my damaged self, I knew I had to build a wall around myself by putting up a facade which was effortless because of the power and affluence I had.

My involvement with the mafia was the perfect escape. It was much easier to direct my frustration on people who didn't meet my standard. I knew I had to pull away from my troubles even if it affected those around me.

The sound of my phone ringing brought an instant stop to my raging thoughts. I made sure not to receive business calls whenever I had to spend time at the hospital so I checked the caller ID to be certain. It was Jennie, my best friend and childhood friend.

"Hey! Just wanted to let you know that I got back safely." Her tiny voice rang at the other end of the line.

"Alright," I replied with a calm voice.

"Is everything okay? Are you at the hospital?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you. How is she?"

"Still the same," I replied as I watched her sleeping peacefully.

She sighed. "Alright. Bye. I love you, Briel."

"Take care." I didn't have time to reprimand her about her last sentence. She knew how much I loathed those words.

My mother's frail fingers moved in my hands and I watched as her eyes fluttered open.

"Mom," I called, and she just stared into space.

" The... The stars. The stars, G... Gabriel, " She stammered. "Can you see them?" Her eyes were fixated on the ceiling.

"They're so close to the rainbow." She chuckled.

I kept an expressionless face and moved closer to her, squeezing our entwined hands while looking at the imaginary stars. "I can see them, mom."

"They are so tiny. I want to hold them in my hands just like you." She finally looked at me. "You're so cute."

Smiling, I removed the strands of hair that tried to cover her eyes. But the smile was just for a fleeting moment.

"I want to see Gill. We can carry the stars together," she said.

My expression contorted in anger. How she was able to remember her monstrous husband even in her peril was a mystery I couldn't understand. "Gill?" I asked, staring at her in disbelief.

"I love him. We'll see the stars together," she said with excitement. She always brought up his name in our conversations, and that was the reason I easily got pissed off.

"Gill! Mom, seriously? Gill is the same reason you're in this condition. Gill changed me! Gill destroyed our lives! I can't believe we're doing this again." My voice was laced with all manner of rage.

Then she broke into tears. "Gill. I need the stars."

I scoffed. "I... I can't do this," I mumbled and walked out of the room, not looking back.

If that was what love was all about, I'd rather not try it.

****

I stood with an expressionless face, hands in pocket as I stared at a painting.

For people who said time heals pain, they are all liars. A lot of time had passed, and nothing had healed me. All that was left of me was misery and the endless urge to kill.

But somehow, staring at paintings and artwork always calmed the storm inside me.

Time ticked away as I waited for my supposed date, an Italian woman that my grandfather and every other person thought I was obligated to get married to in order to create a truce between the two leading mafia clans in Italy.

I scoffed as I thought about her. That rude, spoilt brat who had slept with almost all the influential men in Italy. She would suffer if I eventually get married to her. Imagine the audacity she had to waste my time.

Just as I was starting to get impatient, I heard a familiar voice. Standing in front of one of the paintings was the girl from this morning-the one who was at the receiving end of my frustration.

She looked different. In the morning, she wore a baggy top over joggers and her red hair in a messy bun. But now, she was looking more like a woman-with a simple flowery dress and heels to match, her hair in a ponytail.

She was the gallery guide. The way she described those paintings like she painted them herself was impressive.

I watched her from afar as she answered the questions thrown at her perfectly. She was one hell of a sassy petite woman and a smart one at that.

After a while, she was now left alone. I wanted to keep on watching her from a distance, but soon, I found my feet moving towards her.

"Beautiful description of art," I said when I got to her, making a gesture of clapping my hands.

"Thank you," she replied while busy with her phone. When her eyes finally met mine, they widened in surprise.

"Are you following me now?" She asked, her brows lifting.

I clicked my tongue. "Could have been the best approach for you after what you did this morning."

"You still don't want to get this over with?" She released a breath. "What other form of apology do you want? Okay, let me guess. An apology letter with my handwriting that I'll keep on writing until my bones become frail."

Very talkative. Nice. She might as well save me the torture of waiting for Bella.

"There are so many ways to make you apologize. I just have to find the one fit for you," I replied casually, a smirk imprinted on my face.

"Mr... I don't care to know your name. It's pretty strange of you to follow me around just because I bumped into your car."

"You know it's pretty crazy of you to conclude that I have nothing else to do other than following your low class ass," I shot back.

She bit down on her lips in annoyance and looked away. "So arrogant," she muttered.

I looked away from her. What could she be thinking right now? That I was somehow interested in her? Bold of her to assume that.

My eyes darkened with anger when I looked at the entrance, seeing Bella come in. She was glancing around, probably searching for me. Taking a quick glance at my wristwatch, I realized that she was thirty f**king minutes late.

My grandfather was the only reason I hadn't done something terrible to her.

Taking my attention back to the petite woman in front of me who was dying of embarrassment, a thought crept into my mind.

F**k the mafian rules. F**k whatever my grandfather had to say about this. I hated anyone testing my patience.

My strong arms gripped her waist. She stared at me in shock and opened her mouth to say something. But I beat her to it, as I captured her lips with mine, cutting off whatever she was about to say.