Cruel Saints

“I have no intention of attending the training sessions my father had scheduled for me,” Elena finally speaks up. Her gaze darts to mine. “I won’t take over from my father.”

My eyebrow raises, and my eyes sharpen on her. “Why not? Is there another heir I’m not aware of?”

Elena shakes her head. “I’m an only child. I just have no interest in being a part of the Mafia.”

With every word leaving her mouth, the mystery surrounding her deepens. I’ve never met anyone like her. Women born into the Mafia are raised as princesses. They’re challenging and demanding. They hold their father’s hearts in the palm of their hands, and because of that, they expect their future husbands to treat them like queens. They’re outspoken and born socialites. From what I’ve seen so far, Elena is nothing like them. She’s almost… skittish.

“Does your father know this?” I ask.

A server brings our drinks, and I take a sip of my bourbon as I wait for her answer.

Elena only shakes her head.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

Her eyes dart to mine, and before she can glance away, I capture them with my own. Her lips part, but when she doesn’t answer me, I drop my voice low with warning, “Elena, why are you here?”

If it’s to keep me occupied, so my attention won’t be on the family business, Tino’s made a big mistake. One he’ll pay for with his life.

Fear dances in Elena’s light brown irises, and then she lets out a slow breath. “I’m here for myself.”

Nothing she says adds up, and it has me leaning a little forward. I take hold of the tumbler and twirl it slowly before my eyes snap back to hers. “Careful, Elena. I don’t like secrets. If it’s your family’s intention to make a play for the head of the Mafia, then I suggest you rethink it.”

Elena swallows hard, and then she rises to her feet. She gives Madame Keller an apologetic look. “Please excuse me.”

Suspicion slithers down my spine as Elena walks away from the table but then she stops. I watch her shoulders rise as she takes a deep breath before she turns around and walks back to me. Suddenly her steps are sure as she lifts her chin. Her eyes lock with mine, and when she reaches the table, she says, “I have no idea what my father plans to do. I’m not here for you or anyone else. All I want is to be left alone. I just want to enjoy my time at St. Monarch’s.”

Rising to my feet, I close the distance between us. I stop mere inches from Elena, and instantly her eyes drop to my tie. She hardly reaches my shoulder, and it makes a different kind of power bubble to life in my veins.

I begin to lean down, and a soft scent drifts from Elena, making my mouth water. Attraction zaps between us, but then it’s overshadowed by the fear coming off her in waves. It stirs the predator in me. She’d be so easy to capture, to dominate.

I allow my lips to touch her earlobe as I whisper, “Don’t fuck with me. No one comes to St. Monarch’s without an ulterior motive. If you think you can win me over with your beauty, you’re wrong.”

The air tenses between us as Elena lifts her chin higher. Even though she’s scared shitless of me, she’s still trying to stand her ground. I feel her breath fan over my jaw, and it’s enough to make my body come alive.

Christ, this woman is dangerous. She’s the kind men give their hearts and souls for.

Elena’s words are clipped, “I’m. Not. Here. For. You.” Another burst of sweet air is expelled from her lungs. “I have no interest in you or any other man. Especially one who’s the head of the Mafia.”

I pull back a little so I can capture her eyes. “Why are you here?” I ask one last time.

Elena’s features tighten, and it looks like she’s tearing a secret from her soul as she admits, “Freedom.” Her shoulders sag a little as she takes a step away from me. When she turns and begins to walk toward the exit, she whispers, “I’m here for my freedom.”

What the hell does that mean?

Is she trying to escape her father?

My gut tells me something is off about this situation, and it demands me to dig deeper until I find the answers.

My eyes snap to Madame Keller. “Tell me everything.”

Madame Keller indicates for me to take my seat, and once I’m sitting again, she explains, “My little birdies tell me, Elena is to marry Dante Capone. He acts as her personal guard and Valentino’s right-hand man.”

Jesus, that alone explains a lot.

I hate the fucker.

My muscles tense as I grind the words out, “I know who he is.”