R E Y N A

There was nothing I could do to stop the constant thumping of my heart that danced to the drums of my ears. From the evil smirk on his pink lips to the glint in his beautiful devilish eyes, I was frozen in place.

He twirled my panties around his finger like it was a toy being used to taunt me. I watched him cautiously, but deep down I knew that there was nothing I could do. There was nowhere to run, and nobody I could turn to. All I had was Santino Venturi, a man who should be the last person anyone counts on.

With a leisure pace, he took a few steps toward me until he was directly in front of my face. My eyes widened as I craned my neck up to gaze into his. With intense eye contact, I was paralyzed. My body had this strange response to Saint that I just couldn't understand. Every bit of logic in my mind told me he was dangerous, but it seemed like deep down I wanted to know just how dangerous he was.

"I, um, I," I began nervously as I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. He followed the movement with his gaze, the smirk on his face never faltering. Saint

"You, um, what? What do you want?" He leered. I took the time to inhale the smell of mint on his breath, grateful for the absence of alcohol. I didn't know him well, and I knew his well-being shouldn't have any matter to me, but the worry was like a shadow in my mind. It was there behind every corner, every question, every thought.

I took a deep breath, releasing all the tension and nerves poking at me. "Um, when are we going to begin? The faster I find my mother and get out of this mess, the better."

Those weren't the words I wanted to tell him. I needed to know how he found me so I could find some way to fix it before the other mafia's find that same opening. My life was in danger, but I wasn't sure I wanted Saint to know that.

"When I say so," he concluded. "Is that all?"

"I guess it is," I replied before looking at my pair of panties in his grasp. "C-Can I please have those back?"

His left brow rose. If he didn't stop looking at me so threateningly, I was sure I would pass out. Every time I looked at him, all of the videos and pictures of his victims would begin to play out in my mind. Every time he touched me, I could just feel the blood of all the people he killed with those very hands. I witnessed the way he becomes a monster when provoked, and I'd be a liar to say I wasn't frightened beyond capacity.

"No," he answered. I nodded my head in acceptance. He saw me as weak and a nuisance that he needed to keep around for his very benefit.

"I'm not..." I whispered before rolling my shoulders back to stand a bit straighter. Clearing my throat, I allowed my voice to rise, "weak. I'm not weak."

"Then come take these from me," he announced, holding my panties up. I glared at the red lace of my underwear before my gaze shifted over to Saint. My hands were itching to just reach out and grab it, but I forced my body to stay put.

"Or, um, you can hand it back," my voice quivered. He took a step closer to me so that the smell of his cologne could waltz into my nose.

"I don't want to," he declared. I finally decided to strike. I reached out to grab my panties but the moment I did, he quickly moved them away from me. That one motion left my breasts pressed right up against his chest.

"Please," I begged pathetically.

"Fine. After you have a drink with me," he stated. Immediately, I found myself shaking my head back and forth, but it was already too late. Saint began to walk out of my room, beckoning me to follow.

"I-I don't exactly drink," I muttered softly. "Alcohol consumption has a negative impact on not only the brain, but it also brings malnutrition, stomach distress, behavioral changes, blackouts due to the way alcohol interferes with the brain's ability to make memori—"

"Shut up," Saint cut me off dryly.

"Oh, um, okay," I mumbled.

We traveled all the way to his bar where he walked right in to place himself on a stool. There was already a bottle of rum and an empty glass waiting for him.

I stood in the corner of the room, awkwardly watching him as he poured a glass. Luckily for me, I was able to spot my glasses sitting on one of the seats, so I hurriedly grabbed them and placed them on my face before Saint could stop me.

When I looked up, Saint was already watching me.

"Come here," he ordered.

Slowly, I moved toward him but with each step, my heartbeat quickened. It wasn't until I was directly in front of him that I pushed the bridge of my glasses only my face.

"Open," Saint commanded.

I found myself searching his eyes, but only to see that I had been locked out of them. There was nothing that could reveal his intentions.

Parting my lips ever so slightly, I kept my gaze locked on his. Out of nowhere, he reached up and gripped the strands of my hair, bringing the glass of liquor up to my lips.

"Drink."

Saint began to slowly pour the liquid down my throat, not worrying about if I even liked it. It was like I was drinking poison. I swallowed the rum to keep it from spilling out of my mouth, but I hated every second of it. It made sure to burn a trail down my throat, reminding me of why I decided to never drink in the first place.

"Good girl, Angel," he praised once I finished swallowing every drop. There was so much in the glass, I couldn't figure out how Saint always managed to drink all of that voluntarily. It was torture.

My face scrunched up as the taste still lingered on my tongue.

Saint's eyes darted to my lips. I couldn't end the widening of my eyes as he began to lean in. Just as I was about to pull away, he gripped my chin and thrust me forward. His lips came in contact with the corner of my mouth where he grazed his tongue against my skin.

The motion left a shock to run straight to my core just before he pulled away.

"You had a bit of rum right there," he explained. Even though I tried to strum up something to say, I couldn't. He made me speechless.

I watched as he turned towards the bar to pour another drink, using the same glass he had given me. When he brought the glass up to his lips, he easily downed the entire thing, almost as if it were nothing but water.

Saint seemed to notice how awkward I was standing in front of him because he pointed toward the barstool right beside him. I didn't need to be told twice. Once I sat down on the stool, I noticed how I was so much smaller compared to Saint who was a giant.

He wasn't paying me any attention as he poured himself another drink, so I decided to give him all of mine. It was hard not to study his sharp jawline and his lips. I wondered how many women touched those lips and if they were just as soft as they looked. His nose was so symmetrical and everything many wished to have. I enjoyed his narrowed eyes, as a scar kissed the corner of his right one. His eyebrows were always furrowed but they were thick despite having the perfect shape. Saint was a very handsome man, too handsome.

Pushing my glasses up my nose, I looked away from him and down at my lap.

"Angel," Saint called out to me. I raised a brow as I looked over at him. "Are you scared of guns?"

I never really thought about it. The sight of a gun itself never scared me, it was always the person holding the gun that made me quiver.

I cleared my throat. "I don't think so."

"Good, that's good," he announced. I stood up from the barstool, ready to return to my room, but Saint latched onto my wrist.

"Another drink," he told me. I bit down on my lip as I thought about it.

"Uh, a small one," I mumbled. He hummed before grabbing the bottle. Nerves prickled my skin as I opened my mouth to endure the toxic taste of rum. Saint poured the contents down my throat which began to go down a lot easier. I wasn't sure how much I drank, but I knew it was probably more than what I had in the first glass.

A shiver ran down my spine once he pulled the bottle away from me.

"A-Are you trying to get me drunk, o-or something?" I questioned, pulling my brows together.

Saint smirked before shaking his head. "I wanted a drinking partner today."

"You probably shouldn't drink so much, Santino," I boldly responded. Saint was glaring into my eyes, probably pissed at my slip-up of his actual name.

"You think that just because you read my file that you know me, sweetheart? Well, guess what? People only know what I want them to know. I drink because I'm a grown-ass man and I can do whatever the fuck I want to do," he growled. I flinched away from him, wincing as I did.

"Sit down," he ordered. Hurriedly, I sat back down on the stool and ignored my racing heart.

"I-I'm sorry, you're right, um, it's not any of my business what you do," I told him quietly. He hummed in response but didn't bother to say anything.

As we just sat there in still silence, I could feel the alcohol taking effect on me. I was starting to feel a bit woozy.

"Um," I spoke up. "I'm going to bed."

Just when I stood up, I almost stumbled. The floor looked unsteady and my mind was only growing hazier by the second. Saint didn't say or do anything as he watched me struggle.

I decided to keep going, so I put one foot in front of the other but only managed to fall right into Saint's lap. His arm circled around my waist to steady me, but it only made me more aroused. I wasn't sure if he knew how much of an effect he had on my body. He was so sexy, probably the sexiest guy I had ever met, and I would be a liar if I said I didn't enjoy the small amounts of attention he would give me. No guy ever paid me the time of the day, but Saint would.

"You're drunk," he stated the obvious. I presented my neck to him as I pressed my ass more into him.

"And horny," I found myself saying. There was this immediate desire to punch myself as the words spilled out of me without giving me the chance to think about them.

He chuckled darkly, shock making its presence. "You always get horny when you're drunk?"

"I'm not sure, I've never been drunk," I giggled. His arm around my waist tightened as he leaned into my neck. I can hear the soft sound of his inhale as he takes in my scent.

"You're so innocent, mia cara," he pointed out. "You're like an Angel, so rare, so intriguing."

I could feel his lips against my skin, leaving me to shut my eyes in anticipation. He abandons the arm around my waist and trailed down to my hips where he held me against him. He was kissing up my neck and over to my jaw where his tongue danced with his lips.

"You've never been with anyone, have you?" Saint let out curiously.

I easily shook my head. "No one wants me."

Just when it was beginning to get good, Santino pulled away from my neck and let go of my hips.

"Santino," I called out.

"Rum shouldn't give you a bad hangover," he informed me. "Now, go to sleep. I'll have my guards take you to your room."

I didn't know why my heart felt like it was breaking. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Saint asked, growing annoyed by the second. I looked down at my hands and could just feel the frown forming on my face.

"Coming onto you. That could be sexual harassment on my part, and I—"

"Shut up," he declared before getting up from where he sat. I thought he was going to walk over to me, but instead, he walked out of the room, leaving me there all alone. When I gazed at the seat he was at, I could see my red panties there.