Chapter four
Saint
I’d never thought she’d be here with me. I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I watched her sleep. Eight hours had passed. Eight hours, and I didn’t move an inch. I was content in the silence, knowing that the moment she woke up, the fight would begin again.
Her breathing was becoming stable, the drug still holding her, keeping her under. But it wouldn’t be much longer. My eyes lingered on the bruises circling her neck, dark even against her brown skin. I wanted to trace them with my fingers, to feel the heat of her flesh beneath my touch, to follow the path of those marks with my tongue. I wanted to taste her, to claim her in a way that went beyond the violence and the threats. It was a raw, animalistic urge, one that clawed at the edges of my control.
But I couldn’t.
So I stayed where I was, my hands clenched at my sides. I wouldn’t touch her. Not like that. Not yet. I wanted her to want me to touch her. To beg me to touch her.
Not ten minutes later, her eyes flickered open.
She blinked, squinting at the unfamiliar space around her. Slowly, she sat up, her eyes half-masked, her head seeming heavy, like her mind was trying to catch up to what had happened. I imagined her memory was fuzzy, that she was sorting through it all. I could see the struggle as she pieced it together.
“Aria,” I decided to help her along. “You’re awake.”
Her head snapped toward me. The fire in her eyes was still there from earlier. She rubbed her forehead, like she was trying to rub away the haze.
I could see the moment she remembered. She darted her eyes around the room, frantic, searching for an escape. But I’d already made sure there was none. She was trapped.
“Relax. You’re safe,” I said, keeping my voice low and calm.
“Safe? You drugged me. What the fuck do you mean I’m safe?” she shot back, her tone full of anger and disgust, her words slightly slurred.
The tension in the air was palpable, thick as smoke. She wasn’t going to make this easy. Fine. I didn’t need it to be easy; she just needed to do what I said.
I took a step closer to the bed, my eyes on hers. She wasn’t getting away from me. Not now.
“Listen, princess,” I said, my voice low. “I didn’t want to drug you, but I didn’t exactly have a choice. You weren’t going to make this easy, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna wait around for you to make it harder.”
“Why in the fuck are you doing this, Saint?” she spat.
I couldn’t stop the smirk that crept across my face. There was something about watching her seethe, trying to hold onto control, that made me want to push more.
“Because I want to,” I told the truth. “I thought about us. Imagined us in so many scenarios. Together. Me making love to you. What our children would look like. I couldn’t miss this chance.”
Her eyes were narrowed, posture tight, like she was going to leap across the room and fight me. She was still groggy, but she was planning her next move. She wasn’t afraid of me, not in the way she should be.
“You can’t want to marry me because of two days we shared in our childhood,” she said, her voice trembling with disbelief. “That would make you insane. You don’t even know me.”
“I know you better than you think,” I said, my voice low. “I know enough,” I added, stepping closer. “I know you’re strong. Defiant. Loyal to a fault. I know you’d do anything for the people you love. And I know you’re mine. You always have been. Those two days were the only time in my life I felt like I mattered. Like I wasn’t just my father’s broken son.”
She cut me off.
“That sounds crazy and pathetic,” she shot back, her voice dripping with venom. “I thought you were going to say some shit like because of who I was, I’d help you secure power. That you were being made to marry and I just happened to be the unwilling victim. But no, it’s because you’ve created some fucking crazy fantasy in your head. You’re out of your damn mind, just like people say you are.” She shook her head. “This shit’s wild. If I knew your daddy had beat the sense out of you, I would’ve taken my chances at shooting it out with your men.”
I wanted to finish my declaration, but she already thought I was crazy. I couldn’t tell her the full truth. That she was the only person that truly mattered to me. Even as a little girl, she had this fire in her, this unshakable strength that pulled me in and never let me loose. She had been a part of making me who I was today. She fought for me when no one else would, and in doing so, she gave me a reason to survive when I wanted to give up. Now I could protect her.
I was willing to maim and kill for her, to even walk all over her free will to keep her.
“Stop staring at me like that, with those crazy eyes,” she snapped, her voice breaking me out of my thoughts. She was glaring at me, her eyes narrowed, her hands clenched into fists. “Where are my friends?” she demanded.
“They’re safe. I haven’t done anything to them and won’t as long as you keep your part of the bargain.” I paused, considering how much information I should give her, but there wasn’t really any need to hold back. She couldn’t escape. “They’re in another house on the compound. But don’t worry. They’ll be taken care of.”
She looked at me like I just grew another head. “You’re a fucking liar. I want to see them. You promised me no bullshit, but then you drugged me and took them.”
I could feel my patience slipping. I didn’t like people questioning me, but I kept myself in check.
I took a step forward. “I’m not a liar, Aria. I said you marry me, and they’ll go free. We aren’t married yet, and you’ll see them at the wedding.”
Before I could react, she was on her feet with her hand raised. The slap came fast. A sting that spread across my cheek, burning hot. My head snapped to the side on impact.
For a second, all I heard was the echo of it in my ears.
My fingers twitched, my body coiled, instinct begging me to retaliate. To remind her who she was dealing with.
Slowly, I turned my head back to her.
She stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes locked onto mine. There was no fear. No regret.
Just a challenge.
She didn’t fear me like she should have. I'd have to correct that.
I grabbed her, slamming her back against the wall, my hand wrapping around her throat, keeping her in place.
She braced herself like she fully expected me to hit her back.
I would never. She'd taught me that hitting the ones you cared for makes you weak.
“Don’t hit me again, Aria. It’s not nice. This will be the first and last time you do it, or there’ll be consequences,” I growled. I wouldn’t hit her in anger, but I’d spank her ass. I imagined the recoil would be beautiful.
Her reaction was to scream in my face, her anger raw and unapologetic. “I hate you!”
I leaned in, watching her pulse race as my fingers traced the curve of her jaw.
“One day, you’ll eat those words, Aria. I’m going to make you crave me the way I crave you. And when you’re so deep in it, so fucking addicted to me, you won’t be able to breathe without me, without my touch. And when I control every inch of you—your body, your mind, your soul—I’ll make you beg for what you need, and I’ll deny you just to watch you unravel. Then I’ll remind you of this moment—the moment you looked me in the eye and told me you hated me. And I hope it hurts you as much as it does me.”
I dragged my hand down her body, slow and deliberate, letting my fingertips trail over her skin, soaking in the heat of her like I had all the time in the world.
A shiver rolled through her. I felt goosebumps erupt along her arms, her muscles tensed beneath my touch. Her pupils blew wide, dark and dazed, and when her lips parted just slightly—like she was forgetting to breathe—I knew I had her.
The fight was still there, but there was something else too—something I could sink my teeth into. That’s all I needed. I’d make her body betray her first; then the rest would follow.
I roughly let her go, stepping back, watching her stumble slightly as she tried to regain her balance.
“I have to talk to your soon-to-be father-in-law,” I said, my voice casual now, as if nothing had happened. “You should shower. We have planning to do.”
I made my way to the door, leaving her standing there. All the way across the room, I could feel the rage radiating off of her. I didn’t care. I had her now, and there was nothing she could do about it.
I closed the door behind me, not bothering to lock it.
I headed toward my father’s house on the compound, taking the golf cart. I’d wanted to leave my father’s house when I was old enough, but he had shut that idea down. This was the alternative.
When I arrived at the house, I could feel the tension thick in the air. My father, Donato Valentine, was already waiting for me at the front door, his face twisted in anger. He didn’t even let me pass the threshold before he flipped.
“What the fuck are the people I told you to kill doing living in the guest house, being treated like fucking kings and queens?” he demanded, his voice seething with fury.
“It was your future daughter-in-law’s wedding gift,” I replied.
“What the fuck are you talking about, daughter-in-law?” he snarled, his eyes narrowing like a predator sizing up its prey. I knew—I knew—he was holding himself back from getting physical. Not because it wasn’t something he’d do anymore, but because I’d made him stop laying hands on me a long time ago. I had taken Drake's advice and broke his ribs.The bullet hole in his shoulder also worked as a reminder that hitting me wasn’t wise.
“I’m marrying Drake Heart’s daughter. She’s a friend of theirs and asked me not to kill them. I left out the part where I’d traded their lives for her hand in marriage.”
“The Drake Heart I had killed?” he said in disbelief.
I nodded. “Yes.”
His eyes widened. “The little bitch who gave you a gun and told you to shoot me?”
I had indeed shot him. A few nights after I’d given Aria the ring, he’d been boasting about how he killed her father, and something inside me broke. He was the reason I would never see her again, the reason that all the bad happened in my life. What if he wanted her dead too? I had to protect her like she’d protected me.
I pulled out the gun I’d been carrying in my hoodie for days, pointed it straight at his chest like he had shown me at the range. But he saw me; he moved too quickly. The beating that followed was brutal. He laughed the entire time like he enjoyed it. But I wasn’t afraid of him anymore after that. Seeing him bleed made me realize he wasn’t invincible.
I stiffened, anger flashing through me. “Yes. And don’t call her out of her name,” I growled, stepping closer to him.
He fixed me with one of his custom glares, his eyes cold, his jaw tight, then suddenly, a wet, hacking cough tore through him. He lurched forward, gripping the door, his whole body shaking as he spat crimson into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. I waited for him to compose himself. I wouldn’t kick him while he was down. He was still my father.
“No, you can’t marry her. What happens when she finds out? Let it lie, Saint,” he said with the finality of a man used to giving orders.
I shook my head. “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m advising you as to what I’m going to do. She won’t find out, and leave her friends alone too. You can’t argue with me on this, old man. I’m the only reason people still fear you. And you damn well know it. And if you push me to, I’ll leave.”
His lips twisted, his fingers grazing over the cross hanging from his neck like his prayers would scare me. They didn’t. I knew God didn’t listen to men like us. His voice was low and sanctimonious as he muttered, “Il rispetto di un figlio per suo padre è la fondazione dell'onore.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. Since fear no longer worked with me, he’d resorted to guilt. I shook my head, the irony of it all too much to ignore. “You quoting the Bible is funny to me,” I said. “I honor you every time I kill in your name,” or don’t kill you, I left the last part unsaid. “This? Her, I won’t compromise on.”
His jaw locked, and his fingers tightened around his cross as if it could give him strength. “You’ll learn the price of defiance, Saint,” he spat, his voice low and venomous, his hand shaking slightly in anger.
I nodded, hoping he felt my indifference like a jab to his gut. “Sure, Father. But remember, it was you who taught me that honor came from power, not piety. I cannot unlearn that lesson.” Without another word, I turned on my heel and walked away. The alarm in my pocket had started to vibrate, letting me know Aria had left my home. My father couldn’t do anything to me—not if he wanted to retire and spend the rest of his life in the little Italian villa he’d bought without being hunted by his enemies. He needed me. He had been known as a ruthless monster once, but now he was a broken man, ravaged by a life lived in excess.