Page 3 of De Luca: The Saint

Cole laughs, “That was intense. Fighting with the boss on your third shift?”

I shake my head, “I didn’t want him to kill the guy.”

His reaction tells me that Cole has probably witnessed our bosses kill a man before. Now I know why they pay so well. Wouldn’t you have to in order to guarantee people keep their mouths shut about things they see in this building? Or is the fear enough to ensure every employee's silence?

He cleans the bar with the rag in his hand, “They call him The Saint.”

I arch an eyebrow, “The Saint? Why would they call him that?”

That sounds ridiculous to me. None of these brothers could possibly be considered saints or even close to it. Clearly, I’m missing something.

Cole turns away from me and stacks the glasses on the shelf, pivots back around, and shrugs, “Apparently, he has a thing for rescuing women.”

I straighten my shirt, “Well, I don’t need to be rescued. I can take care of myself.”

Holding my head high, I go back to work, completely aware that I sound like an ungrateful bitch. Had Damian not intervened, I’m not sure what would have happened. I hate relying on a man to save me. I wonder if they’d let me carry a gun. I won’t be like my mom, needing a man to survive.

My dad isn’t a horrible man, but they have a loveless marriage. She stays not because she wants to but because she has to. He is the breadwinner, and my mom will never leave the comfort of knowing the bills are paid. Mom has no access to money, she isn’t permitted. I guess it’s his way of preventing her from leaving. According to my friend Emily, it’s called financial abuse. I don’t know much about it, but I know I’ll never be in her shoes. I refuse to depend on a man for anything, including protection.

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch except for one thing. I glance at the office window upstairs and notice Damian and his brother Domenic staring at me. Good job, Katherina. You pissed him off, and now you’re going to get fired. I absolutely cannot live another three months with no money coming in. Should I apologize? I don’t want to, but I will if it saves my job. Other than the tips I’ve made, I have four dollars and twelve cents in my bank account. Losing this job is not an option.

Chapter Three

Damian

I stand in my brother’s office, pacing while ranting to him about this new fucking employee of ours.

I run a hand through my hair, staring out his expansive window and watching her, “She got pissed. That fucker was going to finger rape her right there at the table, I stop him, and she gets pissed at me. Tells me to stop. What the actual fuck?”

I turn to Domenic, waiting for a response. Instead, he flashes me an amused grin.

Glaring at him, I cross my arms over my chest, “What is that look for?”

Domenic chuckles, “You like her,” he says like a goddamn five-year-old.

My brother thinks he knows me inside out, but he’s confused. Like her? I just met her, but already I can’t stand her.

I shake my head, “I do not, like her. She’s a bitch. I want her gone.”

Domenic leans back in his office chair, rubbing his thumb and forefinger over his chin, “I’m not firing the poor girl because she didn’t fall to her knees thanking the Saint for saving her. Did you expect she’d be so thankful, she’d suck your dick?”

That’s a thought I didn’t need in my head. Kitty Kat on her knees, taking my cock deep in her throat. I huff and turn back to the window, staring at the same spot I was before, but she’s gone.

“Where the fuck is she? I’ll fire her myself if she’s slacking off. Where did she fucking go?”

Domenic laughs again, “You are wound too tight, brother. Maybe she had to go to the bathroom.”

I’m ready to rip my hair out over our missing employee, and I have no clue why. For some reason, I need to find her. I need to find her now.

“Look through the cameras. I want to know where she is.”

He grabs the mouse and begins looking through all the feeds, then chuckles to himself, “She’s pacing outside my office door.”

I step around and join him behind his desk and watch her. She raises her fist to knock but then puts her hand back at her side as she paces back and forth. Then she raises her fist again, over and over.

I gaze from her face to her tits, and when she turns around, her plump ass. Fuck. No wonder that fucker wanted to touch her so bad. He had no right to do what he did, but fuck me, she’s gorgeous.

Her long dark hair is in soft curls hanging below her shoulders. Those big blue eyes and long dark lashes would make any man want to push her to her knees and slide between those pouty lips.

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