Cruel Saints

“Lucian,” Aunt Ursula shouts behind me. “Stop!” I glare up at her as she rushes down the stairs. “You have guests.”

My eyes dart around the living room that’s filled with most of the guests. They’re all watching to see what I’ll do next.

“Whether we like it or not, Valentino Lucas is part of the la famiglia,” my aunt reminds me.

He’s done nothing to deserve death. Not in the eyes of our shared allies.

I take a step back, and my fingers flex around the Glock. Struggling to rein in my anger, I bite out, “Get the fuck out of my house.”

My eyes snap to Franco, and he immediately grabs hold of Tino’s arm to drag him out if he has to.

Tino rears back and spits at me, “You owe me for the loss of Dante.”

I close the distance between us until we’re face to face, my eyes boring into his. “I. Owe. You. Nothing.”

“You killed my man,” he hisses, refusing to back down.

Again my fingers flex around the weapon and holding my ground, my voice is deceivingly calm as I say, “I’m letting you walk out alive. There’s your fucking payment.”

We continue to stare, and I inject every bit of hatred I have for this man into my eyes and voice. “Leave while you can still walk out on your own two legs.”

The air grows unbearably tense, my body on high alert.

Tino is the first to take a step back. He gives me a glare, promising nothing good, and then he stalks out with Franco right behind him.

I let out a breath.

The war is just starting.

“What’s a wedding without a little drama,” Aunt Ursula laughs awkwardly. “Where’s the music?” She claps her hands. “Let’s continue to celebrate.” She ushers the guests back outside, and soon music fills the air again.

Franco comes back inside. “He’s gone.”

“Leo?” I think to ask.

“In surgery. I think he’ll pull through.”

“Good.” I tuck away the Glock behind my back and head up the stairs. “Have one of the men watch Tino. I don’t trust him.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Opening the door to our room, I find Elena sitting on the bed. She’s wearing a soft pink dress, and her curls cover the left side of her face.

I crouch in front of her and catch her eyes. “You don’t have to go back to the reception.”

Shaking her head, she stands up, and it has me rising to my feet.

“I want to go back.”

I lift a hand to her face and gently brush my palm over the silky strands hiding the bruise. “Are you sure?”

For the first time, Elena takes hold of my hand out of her own free will and links our fingers. “I’m sure. We still have to cut the cake, and I’d like to dance with my husband again.”

She’s so fucking calm it’s starting to worry me.

ELENA

Seeing the concern on Lucian’s face, I step closer to him. I place my free hand on his chest and smile up at him.

“I’m okay, Lucian. I feel nothing but relief.”

The concern still doesn’t fade from his eyes. Moving my hand up to his jaw, I stare deep into his eyes. “I’m okay.”

He covers my hand with his own and presses a kiss to my palm.

“Take me back to our wedding reception,” I say.

Lucian nods, but still, he doesn’t move.

“What?” I ask.

“I need a moment to calm down,” he admits.

I pull my hand free from his and wrapping my arms around his waist, I press my right cheek to his chest. He instantly envelops me in a hug and buries his face in my hair.

We just hold each other for a couple of minutes, and then Lucian moves and presses a kiss beneath my ear. “Do you trust me now?”

Do I?

Lucian saved me from Dante while we were at St. Monarch’s.

He came for me while his own life was in danger to make sure I was safe.

He stopped the arranged marriage between Dante and me and married me instead.

I lift my eyes to his.

He’ll tear the world apart if I’m hurt. He proved that to me tonight when he killed Dante.

Lucian will protect me.

Like he’s done from the moment we met.

“I trust you,” the words flow over my lips.

Lucian might be a bad man, the villain in someone’s eyes, but to me, he’s the hero. He’s not a monster like I first thought but my guardian angel.

He’s cruel and unforgiving toward his enemies, but to me, he’s comfort and safety.

My breathing speeds up as a blissful feeling warms my heart. “I trust you, Lucian.”

The corner of his mouth lifts into a hot smirk, and then he closes the distance between us. He lowers his head, and when his breath fans over my lips, they part for him.

The kiss is tender, and then his tongue brushes against my bottom lip, making heat flood my abdomen.