The words hang in the air like haunted tunes dancing in the howling wind.
I blink back, my mouth instantly went dry like sand.
‘W-what do you mean?’ I choke on my words.
Saint’s captivating gaze shifted away from me, fixating on the glimmering piano keys.
‘Should I paint you a vivid picture, or merely skim over the specifics?’
Saint’s voice was nonchalant, but his words held weight. I remained seated beside him, absorbing the information he had imparted.
He set Viktor’s grave ablaze?
How does one even burn a grave?
Why-how did he even find the location of the cemetery he was buried at?
The mere thought of that track made me want to smack myself in disbelief.
Saint, a true powerhouse, owned fear like no other. When he put his mind to something, nothing could stop him. I had always known Saint to be a bit off-kilter: bipolar, narcissistic, manipulative, and selfish. But the extent of his chill-inducing ways was something else entirely. It never occurred to me that he could actually be capable of hurting someone, even in their resting bed.
‘How…’ I murmured, barely able to get the words out. ‘I had my guys do some digging, and they found his death certificate. Flew to Poland last night and took care of the rest,’ he explained, sparing me the gruesome details. I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for small mercies.
With a sharp crack and a couple of pops, Saint readied himself for his chilling revelation. As he turned to face me, his eyes glinted with a sinister gleam.
‘My men, they absolutely loved smoking his ashes,’ he revealed with a nonchalant shrug. My eyes widened with shock and disbelief. “Excuse me?”
Smoked his ashes?
Loved?
I couldn’t help but wonder just how depraved Saint’s loyal followers truly were. ‘Wait, are you telling me that they actually-‘ My words trailed off as the image of Viktor’s remains being inhaled like a drug sent shivers down my spine.
The very thought of it was enough to turn my stomach and fill me with disgust, leaving me writhing in agony from the inside out.
Does that mean Saint also-
Oh my go-
‘I don’t smoke Doe.’ With a single utterance, he seemed to pluck the thoughts from my mind and expose them to the world. Relief washed over me as I realized he was not a participant in such a heinous act. But no word in the English language could articulate the level of evil and inhumanity it takes to carry out such deeds and still sleep soundly at night. Just when I thought I was safe, he added with a twisted smile, ‘But that doesn’t mean I could not join in on the amusement.’ Suddenly, every fiber of my being was on edge, bracing for the worst. As I waited for his next move, he toyed with my emotions by pushing back his hair and staring directly into my soul with a sinister smirk. ‘God, I love the way I have fun,’ he muttered under his breath.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized he was the Devil incarnate.
Curiosity clawed at me as I observed Saint’s every move. He reached into his suit jacket, tantalizingly slow, as though he relished the suspense. My eyes narrowed, desperate to glimpse what he would pull out.
Finally, Saint produced a small black box, sending my heart racing.
I furrowed my brows in suspicion, confused and unsure of what was happening.
My confusion soon dissipated with the opening of the box. Three silver bullets gleamed in the dim light, arranged neatly at attention. My mind was a whirlwind of questions and panic.
‘Bullets?’ I whispered, barely able to form the words.
Saint’s eyes were like steel, unwavering as he spoke. ‘I used what remained of his ashes to craft these bullets. And I hunted down his old friends- three of them still live.’
Viktor’s friends? The three men that took a part in destroying me?
But how does he know about them?
The revelation made me shiver in revulsion, but another emotion began to stir – gratitude. Saint’s fierce protectiveness made me feel warm, secure, and cherished.
‘I nearly killed them with my bare hands,’ he confesses, his voice dark and dangerous. ‘But these bullets are for you.’
I’m speechless.
‘How do you know ab-‘
‘I know that he allowed his friends to take advantage of you. When I told you I’ve done some digging on Viktor. I fucking mean it. Just saying his name is like drinking acid. If God could give me one day with him…’ He sucks in a sharp breath. Then smiles. ‘I’d brutally dismember that decrepit bastard in ways that would strip me of every shred of humanity until only death’s shadow remained in my soul, assuming I even have one.’ His tongue slithers across his lips as his penetrating gaze bores into me.
I observe him, speechless but bursting with countless queries clamouring to be answered so my interest and anxiety could be quelled. I’m at a loss as to what to say, how to react, or even how to think.
He tips his head to one side, his dark locks cascading over his forehead.
With a heavy exhale, he spoke softly. ‘I’d do anything to know what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.’ Saint shut the case with a gentle click, placing it atop the grand piano with care. ‘Those bastards are a mess, barely clinging to their sad existences. When you’re ready to face your darkest fears, Doe, I am here.’ He held a deep pause, sliding the case towards me with a knowing glance.
My thoughts swirled as I stared at my hands, pondering the web of complexities within. ‘You claim to relish in my pain, savouring every agonizing moment. So why do you offer this escape?’ My question hung in the air.
Saint’s reply was deliberate, each syllable laced with sincerity. ‘I know the demons that haunt you, Doe. And while your pain may be my pleasure, this kind of pain sparks a different fight within me…one in which I want to protect you from the monsters lurking in your mind.’
‘I hear you. But that’s not the answer that will satisfy my curiosity,’ I confess, my eyes fixed firmly on his.
He tilts his head, studying me closely. ‘You want me to spill my guts, don’t you? Reveal the darkest secrets of my past that led me down this path. But that’s not something I’m willing to do.’
I purse my lips, feeling a pang of disappointment. ‘I understand…but surely there’s something you can tell me?’
Instead of answering, Saint leans in closer, his eyes locked on mine. ‘What you need to know is that I understand. I’ve been where you are. And that means a lot more than any tragic story I could tell you.’
I can’t help but chew nervously on my bottom lip. For a moment, we sit in silence, the air between us heavy with unspoken words and the weight of our situations.
Finally, I managed to whisper, ‘Thank you.’ But as I meet Saint’s intense gaze, I realize there’s so much more I want to say.
At that moment, I know I need to end this once and for all. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, Saint meets my gaze and for a moment, we simply stare at each other, neither of us speaking. But even though we’re not saying anything, I can feel the tension between us rising with each passing second.
My fingers glide over the ivory keys of the piano, weaving a slow and sultry tune that hangs in the air like a phantom. By my side sits Saint, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that threatens to ignite a wildfire within me. But I keep my cool and continue to play on. The harmony between us is nothing short of magical – a dance of two souls intertwined, moving in perfect unison.
As the notes linger between us, I catch Saint stealing a glance at my lips and my fingers falter for just a moment. But then, in an unexpected move, Saint begins to play alongside me, his fingers finding their way to the keys with ease. Together, we create a melody that speaks volumes, full of unspoken words and raw emotions.
But as our fingers dance upon the piano, I can sense a brewing tension between us. We’re both hiding something – a deep-seated desire that we’re too afraid to confront. And as we collide and clash, I can feel a familiar fluttering in my stomach that sends shivers down my spine. It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, and one that I’m not sure I’m ready to face.
I ceased playing the piano, entranced by Saint’s allure. My gaze deviated towards his lips, which possessed a magnetic quality. Their plush, rosy hue and soft texture mesmerized me.
As I refocused on his eyes, palpable electricity surged between us. Our words seemed inadequate to express the intensity of our mutual attraction.
Unconsciously drawn towards him, I leaned in hesitantly, observing as his expression remained nonchalant. Drawing ever closer, I caught a whiff of smoke and brimstone. Despite my reservations, my heart raced and my palms became moist.
Though a voice in my head urged me to reconsider, I disregarded it entirely.
My eyes shut as I passionately joined my lips to his, revelling in the thrilling unknown.
His lips were like a gentle breeze on a humid summer night, tinged with the flavours of whiskey and mint. A daring impulse surged within me as I licked the dewy bottom lip, stirring something primal in him.
As he lifted me effortlessly onto the piano, the keys clashed in discord, but the chaos only heightened the intensity between us. Saint’s hand instinctively sought my neck, but I pushed him away, fingers shaking as I took control of the kiss, holding his face tenderly.
‘Don’t touch me unless I say so,’ I murmured against his lips, feeling the frustration and longing emanating from his every pore.
My hand entwined with the back of his neck as our lips met again, this time with fire and passion, each of us vying for dominance. Saint held back, his knuckles turning white as he clung to the piano, the tension between us reaching unbearable heights.
‘I need to touch you, please.” Saint pleaded, but I clamped down on his lip with a ferocity that left him gasping.
‘No,’ I breathed, my fingers trailing through his silky hair as his body pressed against mine, my legs hooking around his waist like a belt.
An unrestrained moan escaped my lips as his solid cock eagerly yearned for my touch. The temperature soared, my body blazing like a raging inferno.
With lips as sweet as candy, Saint devoured me, ravishing every inch of me as I surrendered to his tempting touch. I was lost in him, disintegrating with the fervour from within. Suddenly, a ferocious growl erupted from the hollow of his chest, and his kiss consumed my being, overwhelming my senses. His lips were savage, his essence dripping with malicious sin, a punishment for something only he knew. A secret he kept to himself.
But as the voice echoed in my mind, Irena, what the hell are you doing? I was jolted back to reality.
What was I doing?
Oh, God.
As he gazed at me with greedy eyes, Saint threatened in a husky tone, ‘I’m so close to tearing you apart, Irena.’
I forcefully pushed Saint away from me and collapsed onto the piano in frustration. ‘Fuck,’ I muttered under my breath, trying to calm down my racing heart. As I tugged at my hair, I turned towards Saint, my eyes wide and my lips parted, as if I had committed a heinous crime. ‘This was a mistake,’ I stammered, unsure of how else to approach the situation.
‘Irena,’ he called to me, but I shook my head, refusing consequences. ‘No, it was a mistake.’
I mentally groaned at how foolish I had been. Without another word, I hastily made my way out of the room, feeling like I was living in a never-ending loop. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ I repeatedly chanted to myself as I scurried to my bedroom.
As I closed my eyes, memories of Saint’s tantalizing lips flooded my mind, and I couldn’t resist reaching up to lightly touch my mouth. My lips felt parched as I remembered how his tongue had slipped into my mouth and how I had savoured every moment of it.
In front of me stood four glorious strawberry tarts, their juicy crimson berries sparkling under the kitchen light. Without hesitation, I reached my eager hands into the blazing oven, braving the scorching heat that brushed against my skin. As I lifted the tray out of the inferno, my gaze remained fixed on the irresistible delicacies before me.
Unable to contain my excitement, I placed the tray on the countertop with a resounding thud, the tarts quivering with delight. As I carefully arranged the sliced strawberries into rose-like shapes on top of the buttery crust, the intoxicating scents of the succulent fruit and flaky pastry enveloped me in a heavenly embrace.
With a sense of satisfaction, I took a step back and admired my handiwork, a small smile creeping across my lips. These little masterpieces were a feast for both the eyes and the tastebuds.
I dedicated an entire morning to crafting the perfect tarts – a four-hour journey that involved carefully weighing the butter, sugar, and flour, deftly mixing the ingredients, meticulously chopping the fruit, and laboriously cleaning up the kitchen. But despite the immense effort required, I relished every moment. For those hours, I was completely absorbed in my task, able to forget the chaos and turmoil of everything else happening in my life.
However, that respite was much needed after the mistake I made yesterday.
I was feeling particularly vulnerable, and in a moment of foolishness, I threw myself at Saint. It’s a trait of mine that I don’t particularly care for – when someone manages to break down my walls and look deep into my soul, I become impulsive and thoughtless. That’s what led me to kiss Saint last night, a decision I now regret deeply.
Brick by brick, he dismantled my fortress until he found his way to the shattered and delicate soul that I had been carefully hiding from the world.
I foolishly allowed him to become my knight in shining armor, unaware that his armor was anything but shiny. He was the kind of man that every sensible woman should run from – ruthless, barbaric, and with a penchant for mayhem. My presence next to him was nothing but a shared burden of demons and battles. And so, I made a vow to myself never to succumb to temptation again.
But today, I found myself in the kitchen, creating delicious tarts, drowning in sweet and tangy flavors, hoping to divert my thoughts. It’s not like I often indulge in baking, but when I do, it’s to keep my mind off spinning thoughts, so I reached out to Nirali.
Nirali’s voice floated over my shoulder, ‘They’re almost too perfect to devour.’ I felt a smile crease on my lips. ‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I boasted, turning on my heel to face her. The kitchen island sparkled with a freshly poured crimson wine beside Nirali, who sat perched on a stool. Her long, brown tresses cascaded around her gorgeous face, which wore a white floral dress and matching heels.
Honestly, she was a vision to behold.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she trailed off, playing with the rim of her glass.
Curiosity flickered across my expression, and I strolled over to the sink to wash my hands. ‘Hmm?’ I inquired, glancing back at her. ‘When should we go shopping for dresses?’ she questioned, and I paused, bewildered.
Dress shopping? For what?
“I’m lost.” I make my grand announcement and watch as Nirali’s chocolate orbs bulge in disbelief, her mouth agape. ‘You’re shitting me, right?’ she queries in disbelief. A quiver of laughter escapes my lips. ‘Why on earth would you want to go dress shopping? Is there a secret rendezvous that eludes me?’ I quip with a nonchalant shrug, earning a withering glare from Nirali.
‘I can’t believe Saint hasn’t filled you in yet,’ she laments, dragging a hand down her face before expelling a sigh of resignation. In a fluid motion, she hops off her stool and strides towards me, her movements pulsing with a newfound urgency. I narrow my eyes, my mind racing with possibility.
‘What is it?’ I demand.
With a knowing sigh, she leans in closer and lowers her voice. ‘You see, darling, the crime families may have their secrets, but they also have a reputation to uphold. And what better way to do that than by throwing a lavish charity event?’ Her eyes glimmer with a mixture of excitement and caution as she continues, ‘There will be flashing lights, dazzling outfits, and cameras capturing every moment. But don’t be fooled by the surface-level facade of good deeds and contracts. When the night progresses and the theme is revealed, things will take a dark turn.’
I furrow my brow in confusion, a sense of foreboding settling in my chest.
‘Why subject yourself to that kind of danger and discomfort?’
A sly smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. ‘Oh, it’s not just about the danger, Irena. It’s about the image. Being seen at an event like this sends a message.’
I swallow hard, feeling a wave of understanding wash over me. ‘And what message is that?’
She leans back, crossing her arms. ‘That we’re a part of it. That we’re connected. And that we aren’t to be messed with.’
‘It’s an age-old tradition for husbands to be accompanied by their better halves, you know, to maintain the reputation and respect in the perilous world of crime families. Your absence can tarnish Saint’s name, not to mention the hard-earned prestige of your own notorious clan,’ elucidated Nirali.
I shook my head in disbelief and let out a sarcastic chuckle. ‘So, we women are nothing but lifeless dolls, existing only to adorn our husband’s side and uphold their stature?’
Nirali sighed. ‘Unfortunately, that’s the bitter truth.’
With an eye roll and a bite of my lip, I allow my mind to wander to the thought of attending the grand ball – my very first one, mind you. I’ve never been to such lavish affairs before, not while I was with Viktor. He would prefer to gallivant around with other women, leaving me in peace. At least they left me to my own devices.
My uncles would harp on about how I should attend such events, telling me that I was a disappointment to the Nowak name. But, I couldn’t have cared less.
Even though Viktor wasn’t exactly loyal to me, I didn’t mind. To be honest, it was better than him forcing himself on me when he was in the mood. It always left me feeling dirty and hollow inside for weeks on end.
‘I guess I’ll need to consult with Saint first,’ I mull aloud, unsure if he’s even interested in going. ‘When’s the ball?’
‘Later this week,’ Nirali replies with a shrug.
My lips form a thin line as I blink rapidly, realizing I have limited time to prepare. This will be the first instance where I require Saint’s assistance.
A symphony of creaks and clicks permeates the air as the front door yields a gentle push. Shadows materialize on the walls, mingling with the murmur of hushed voices and the rustle of feet nearing the living room.
Nirali and I are ensconced on the couch, basking in the warmth of the television’s flickering light and the soothing gulp of wine.
Nirali jolts upright, her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. With lightning speed, she sets down her drink and bolts to the room’s entrance.
I swivel my head to behold Abel and Saint, trailed by a stranger who has a familiar air – the same man I encountered back in Poland when I was first introduced to Saint.
With sparkling eyes, Nirali lets out a joyful cry and throws herself into the welcoming arms of her beloved Abel who catches her with ease. His dazzling smile illuminates the room and his pearly white teeth glimmer like jewels in the sunlight. As their lips meet in a passionate embrace, I quickly avert my gaze and find myself locked in a tense stare-down with Saint. His piercing gaze coupled with his razor-sharp features sends shivers down my spine, making me fidget restlessly on the couch. But, I force myself to look away and refocus on the blissful couple before me.
“For God’s sake get a fucking room you two.” As the man beside Saint grumbled about his phone, Nirali broke away from their kiss with a fierce scowl at the man. She turned her attention back to Abel, confessing, ‘Oh, how I missed you.’ Abel replied, planting a tender kiss on her cheek “I missed you more Angel,’ causing the man to retch in disgust. The man’s attention shifted to me as he slyly inquired, ‘So you’re not too cuddly with Saint, huh?’
I gave him an icy stare, and he took pleasure in teasing Saint, asking,
‘When was the last time you got some quality sex?’ Saint simply brushed past him, unresponsive. As Abel rolled his eyes, the man cornered me, grinning wickedly and taunting, ‘Not getting any love lately, Irena?’
Ignoring him, I returned my gaze to the TV, while Nirali posed a curious question to the stranger. ‘Did your mom ever love you?’ Furious, the man snapped back defensively, ‘What the hell does my mom have to do with any of this?!’
‘Pay no mind to Prince,’ exclaimed Abel from across the room.
‘Understood,’ I replied, my eyes fixated on the television, though my mind was lost in thought about Saint.
With Nirali and Abel settled into the couch, Prince and I sat nervously in a sea of quietude, the only sound coming from the TV screen.
Where on earth could Saint be?
Perhaps now was the time for me to have a heart-to-heart with him about the ball. Striding away from the group, I excused myself and made my way to Saint’s opulent office.
I stood at Saint’s double doors for a moment, contemplating my impending confrontation. Taking in a deep breath, I knocked and boldly entered the room, catching Saint in the act of rifling through files.
‘I did not say come in shithead.’ The sound of his bark cuts through the thick silence and my eyebrows jump in surprise and apprehension. Did he really just hurl an insult my way?
‘Excuse me?’ my tone comes out sharp, my arms folded across my chest protectively. Saint’s intense gaze sends shivers down my spine, and I can’t help but shrink under his scrutiny. ‘I thought you were my brother or Prince.
Sorry.’ His admission catches me off guard, and I stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room, my throat feeling dry.
Saint raises an eyebrow, looking puzzled as he tilts his head to the side.
‘You can sit Doe, I don’t bite,’ he teases.
Determined to make my point, I take a deep breath. ‘We need to talk Saint,’ I say, getting straight to the point. As he leans back, his muscles flex in a tantalizing way, and I feel a wave of desire wash over me. God, I would do anything to explore every inch of his body with my tongue.
Shaking my head, I push the wicked thoughts to the back of my mind, determined to stay focused on the conversation at hand.
‘I’m all ears.’ ‘Why didn’t you inform me of the upcoming ball?’ I asked, his eyes locked onto mine.
As I met his gaze, Saint’s expression turned stony and his jaw tightened.
‘I didn’t tell you because you’re not going,’ he replied.
