Chapter 1: Gael De Luca
"I'm going to kill her..."
Gael De Luca, a Mafia Prince from the Southern Alps in a region in Northern Italy, paced back and forth across his large living room at eleven in the evening with nothing but lounge pants on. He had a huge fallen angel tattoo on his back, one of his greatest reminders in life. His hair was disheveled from the countless times that he ran his fingers through it.
"I will find that woman 'til the ends of the earth, make her pay for what she did and I will kill her."
His grey eyes darkened and his heavy footsteps trailed thuds on the floor. At six foot two, his athletic built and current menacing expression made him look frightening. He had been furious for the last hour after learning about what that woman did.
The woman whose identity he did not know. And for that, the rage within him burned his stomach, making him feel evidently uncomfortable about this… ridiculous situation.
She wanted to kill him — why not kill her first?!
He ground his teeth together in frustration and clenched the book in his hand—hardcover in red and white colors with the author's name "Galatea K.S." written in bold font and the title that said: "Falling in Love With the Mafia Prince"
He had never felt this humiliated in his life! The author—whoever she was, described his features. Sure, she used a different name for the male character but everything else was a description of him—even the mole that's found somewhere only he and some women knew, his tattoos that were strategically placed in his body, and the scars in his torso. The way she described the male lead's character was as though she knew him very well. Which was hardly the case for someone whom you just knew after a one-night stand.
Gael huffed and scoffed. Both the flowery and shîtty descriptions about the character came flashing in his mind as if taunting him—no, reminding him how shîtty his life was. Even the story about how he got the scar on his arm while he was doing a business transaction in the U.S was also written in the book. A story that he should have kept to himself but after having one too many drinks, he probably didn't care what he had told that woman while they were at it.
That's right. That woman was somewhat a cuckoo. He met her at a friend's wedding on a private island sometime three years ago. Everything about her screamed that she was a liar. She said her name was 'Angela' but if that was the truth, he wouldn't know about it because while they were drinking hard liquor at the open bar, the two of them agreed to keep their last names a 'mystery' or that they just enjoy the evening without caring about who they were outside of the island — something that he, of course, didn't mind at all.
And then she asked, "Tell me something unbelievable." If he told people who he was or what he really did, they would either not believe him or they would run away as fast as they could. 'Angela' was the former. She did not believe what he told her.
A couple of things that Gael learned from one of his female friends was to be honest and to be himself and 'love' will find its way to him. Yeah, as idiotic as it sounds for someone like him to be looking for a partner, it was true at a time. Which was why after drinking several shots with Angela, he had the guts to tell some truths about him.
The look on the woman's face when she snorted after he told her, "I'm a Mafia Prince" while he was hammered, was still etched on his mind. She certainly didn't believe him. Well, in all honesty, if he were to hear from someone that he or she were a Mafia Royalty, he would probably not believe them too. It was such an obnoxious and pretentious thing to say.
But it was the truth. And after hearing it hundreds of times, he decided to just own the title. After trying to be honest about what he really was, the first reaction he received was a snort from a woman he barely knew. What a loser. Well, she did ask him to tell her something unbelievable.
He should have stopped when she started asking him to tell her more stories about him while they were already busy stripping each other naked as they got to her room. The two of them were wasted and none of them cared that it was just meaningless sex. He had slept with women before who had different kinks and it was probably Angela's – to hear stories from the men while they were about to do the deed. Maybe that got her excited?
Was it really a woman's dream to get to know a bad boy and attempt to tame them? Maybe her orgasm depended on how exciting the story was?
How the hell would he know? But since she clearly did not believe him when he told him a partial truth about his identity, what's one more story? She probably lied the entire time too. She already thought he was bluffing and making up stories, so what does it matter if he were to feed her fantasies with a story that she wouldn't really believe anyway?
The alcohol got to him. Oh, what the hell—yes, the lust got to him. He was vulnerable. The only time he forgot how chaotic his life was and that a one night stand with a stranger whom he enjoyed his time with—somehow—seemed appealing at the time.
But who would have thought… That three years later, he would find himself as the male character of a best-selling book. Written by some author whose name and identity he didn't know. Did that woman perhaps sell his story? Did she have so much pleasure that night that she decided to share with the whole world what kind of man he was?
The detailed sex from that one night that they shared written as porn in the novel made him think that – A, He is a sex god—which he wouldn't mind being called.
And B, the author was probably none other than Angela herself. After all, there were so many authors who used pen names.
But how in the world was he going to find her? He only knew her one night and that was f*cking three years ago!
And the only thing he believed among her many lies that night was the way she moaned when she climaxed. He couldn't randomly ask anyone around his friend's circle if they knew someone who sounded like that, could he?
He could find her through the publishing company…
Or he could simply ask his friend—No. His friends must not know the book was about him. He's already humiliated enough!
Exasperated, he tossed the heavy book onto the couch and he slumped next to it, the leather material squeaked at his weight. His abdominal muscles and the V-line on his torso were visibly clear under the bright lights from the chandelier.
Gael ran a hand down his face and let out a sinister laugh.
Who would have thought that Gael, known as the notorious prince in the De Luca Family, would be in this laughable situation?
He couldn't accept what she did to him. He was furious. What if his family read this book?
Too late. He found this book because his sister was reading it.
Fûck. His younger sister was reading smut about him!? He was mortified!
"Rick!" He called one of his men—it was short for Riccardo.
A big, muscly man came into the room and waited for his orders.
His gaze darkened as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He steepled his hands in front of him and with a gruff voice, he said, "Prepare the plane. We're visiting a friend."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
NixxxiE
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Chapter 2: Galatea K.S.
Mayne City, Esmea
The bedroom door creaked as it opened and in came Oliver in a dark grey suit. The room was cold and dark when he entered and the song "Love is a Bitch" by Two Feet was playing softly in the background — it was not the first time he found it playing in the bedroom of his sister. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked around the room but barely saw the flooring.
Waste papers on the floor crunched under the soles of his shoes as he walked towards the windows on the left side of the room. In one swift move, he slid the curtains wide open, allowing the sunlight to illuminate the cave-looking bedroom. When he turned to the bed, there he found his sister sprawled without a care in the world.
"What am I going to do with you?" he muttered under his breath before strolling towards the bed and with the back of his hand, he gently tapped his sister's arm. "Get up."
Angela groaned and shifted in the bed, instantly irritated because she was woken up from her slumber. She was not a morning person and she didn't like it whenever her brother wakes her up. "What?!" she snapped, placing a pillow over her head to shield her eyes from the bright light.
"Get up," he repeated, tapping her back that was facing him this time. He was looming over her bed when he checked the time in his watch. "It's seven and I have to leave for work soon." After proving to his father that he could be trusted, he became the CEO of their family's business since last year.
"What is wrong with you? I haven't slept a wink yet! Why are you doing this?" Angela grunted.
"Dad's coming by. Do you want him to see you slacking around?"
"It's so early, for heaven's sake! I've been working the whole night. What slacking are you talking about?"
Digging his hands in his pockets, a small smile formed on his face knowing what could make her get up. "Mhmm… But he doesn't know that. Now get up and clean up your mess. There's still a box of your books in the living room. Unless you want him to see that?"
Her eyes went wide upon realizing what her brother meant. And without another word, she scrambled off the bed and hurried towards the living room. She couldn't let her father see those!
Seeing her sister's reaction, Oliver could only shake his head and stroll out of the room.
Angela picked up several pieces of crumpled paper on the floor and quickly threw them into the trash only to pick them all out again and decided to toss them into a box in her bedroom. All the papers were drafts of the new novel that she had been working on for the past few months. She had been trying to rewrite thousands of words over and over again yet none of them seemed to be the perfect first chapter of the story.
Oliver, who could see his sister from where he was sitting in the breakfast nook, didn't bother to help her and just watched as she struggled to push the box of books towards her bedroom.
"Aren't you going to help me?" she asked, narrowing her dark brown eyes at her brother. She was 5'7", four inches shorter than him, and had ash brown hair. She was fit as she regularly ran… and did butt exercises.
Her brother didn't think she needed help.
"Nope." He sipped his coffee and whipped out his phone to check his emails.
She rolled her eyes and managed to move the box to her bedroom all by herself. The living room has been cleared, leaving her with the rest of the crumpled papers across her bedroom floor to take care of. She moved as fast as she could until she stumbled on the box and fell.
"Aw!" She rubbed the sore spot on her shin and slapped the lid of the box as an act of revenge. The lid popped open, revealing the books inside.
Eyeing the contents inside the box, she picked up one book and looked at the cover. It was a white book with red details with a title in bold font that said "Dirty Sheets" by 'Galatea K.S.'. She smiled as she ran her hand on it. It was her third book—just released several months ago. It didn't sell as good as her first book "Falling in Love With the Mafia Prince", but she loved it just as much because it was her baby.
Angela Su, twenty-eight years old—single for years but dated a lot. Although her most recent date had been months ago, she had been dry for much longer than that. She was starting to think that it was the reason why she couldn't write her next book. Maybe her best friend was right—she probably needed to get laid.
How ironic was it that she had fans all over the world, raving for how good of a writer she was. They would say they were envious of her and wondered if her love life was as colorful, as hot, as heartwarming as the stories in her books. Not.
She had never been in love. But she was a hopeless romantic. Sort of. And she loved reading a lot and writing too. Except her father didn't.
She could still remember the first time that she told her father that she didn't want to be part of the family business—at the same time that she told him she wanted to be a writer instead. Boy, did he got mad at her, telling her that it wasn't a 'real' job. That being a 'writer' wasn't stable.
Which was why she was living a double life — Angela Su, daughter of Chairman Su of Su Group — and her pen name Galatea K.S.
Because her father was against her becoming a writer, she had to keep this secret life from him. She wouldn't want him to know that she was doing it behind his back after countless times that he told her not to do it.
She surely didn't want her father to know that she became a writer and that her books were selling like hotcakes. And she certainly didn't want him to know that she was writing adult romance books.
How would her father react if he knew that his daughter, whom he once and sometimes still call his little girl, was actually a naughty—not nice writer? She shivered.
There were only two people who knew about her secret identity – her brother Oliver, and her best friend Nina who was also her agent.
As for the rest of the world—well, her fans — Galatea K.S. was a faceless author. Galatea K.S. had never been seen in public, interviewed in person, and there were no pictures of her on the internet.
"Dad's here!" Oliver called from the living room.
Angela jumped up, closed the box, and shoved it under her desk before she went out to see her father. She already had an idea why he showed up that morning and she was positive that she would not like it.
"Go shower and change. You're coming with me to the company today," Chairman Su told her as soon as she appeared in the living room.
"But—"
"I don't want to hear any excuses. You're almost thirty, I can no longer tolerate your slacking."
"But I—" Angela paused when she saw her brother shook his head at her. "Yes, Dad." With slumped shoulders, she dragged herself back to her bedroom and did as she was told.
…
Su Group
Wearing a black long sleeved dress that was too short for an office outfit, Angela walked beside her brother with their father in front of them. The employees in the company greeted and bowed as they passed, showing respect to their Chairman and CEO.
Several male employees couldn't help but sneak glances at Angela's backside as she passed by them. She didn't visit the company often so they don't get to see her all the time. The last time she came, her hair was still long. But now it was a shoulder-length balayage.
The male employees sent messages through their eyes as she passed by. They all nodded in confirmation that she looked gorgeous in whichever style she carried herself.
She took a sip from the cappuccino takeaway cup in her hand—her favorite. And tucked her hair behind her ear, slightly flipping it backward like she always did and it exposed her neck. Nina said it was one of her tells when she feels a bit uncomfortable.
Angela ignored the stares and they headed straight to the private elevator. She passed by the receptionist and saw the book in the latter's hand—her second book, "Lust and Lies". A small smile formed on her face. The sight of her book instantly brightened her mood.
One of the greatest joys of writers was knowing that people were reading their works.
'Today doesn't seem to suck so much,' she thought.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS
NixxxiE
NixxxiE
*Esmea is a fictional state in the U.S. where a lot of Asians settled in centuries ago. They have some traditions from Asian countries that they still follow until now and have adapted a lot of American cultures.
This is fiction — rules/laws don’t follow the ones in the real world.
Do spare a vote for this novel :)
Thank you!
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P.S. Yep, SACE is undergoing revisions (until now... it's taking a while) to link all the books in one world.
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