Page 20 of Sins of the Orchid
“What? How?” Adriano paled a bit, and guilt that the brothers were quarreling spread through me. It bothered me to see them arguing about me.
“A Venezuelan attacked her.” Santi’s fury pulsed in the air. His one hand was clenched so tight, his knuckles turned white while his other flexed and unflexed like he was practicing strangling someone.
The two brothers glared at each other, animosity brewing in the air. But the truth was that it was my fault as much as Adriano’s. I sent DeAngelo ahead of me, knowing I’d be left alone for a bit since Adriano tended to hook up with girls all the time.
“He’s from the Venezuelan Cartel,” I rasped in a low voice, and both their eyes snapped to me.
“How do you know?” Adriano questioned.
“You're sure?” Santi asked at the same time.
I swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes,” I answered in a small voice, fidgeting with the hem of Santi’s Brioni suit jacket. It kept me from freaking out. “I’m positive.”
“Fuck!” Adriano pulled me into his arms. I let go of Santi’s hem, which I was gripping, or risked pulling him over. “I’m sorry. He was probably watching me.”
“It’s okay. He wasn’t watching you,” I whispered. Adriano’s familiar cologne invaded my lungs, but it was all wrong, mixed with the hint of a woman’s perfume. Pulling away, I put distance between us and found myself closer to Santi, his scent cool and expensive, like fine Italian leather, replacing Adriano’s.
“If I knew the Venezuelans were here, I would have never left her alone,” Adriano justified himself to Santi.
“Yes, Adriano. Enemies will come and announce themselves. Just so you can keep your dick in your pants and do the right thing!” Santi’s words sliced through the air, accusation clear in his voice.
Goosebumps blossomed on my skin, sending shivers throughout my body. Just the thought of the Venezuelan Cartel getting their hands on me sent icy terror through my veins.
“Please don’t argue,” I begged as I came to stand between the two of them. “It isn’t Adriano’s fault, Santi.”
Santi’s jaw ticked and annoyance flared in his eyes. I didn’t like to see him pissed off, especially not at me. I waited for him to reprimand me or call me stupid for discounting what had just happened, but the words never came. He would have been right to chastise me, but I wouldn’t let him put all the blame on Adriano.
“I am at fault here too, Santi. You cannot blame Adriano without blaming me.” I exhaled shakily and our eyes locked. Santi’s gaze hardened, and I knew he didn’t like me defending Adriano. “We’ve snuck into a lot of parties before. Neither of us could have anticipated this time would be different.”
Who would have ever thought a member of the Venezuelan Cartel would be here, on a college campus? I was terrified at the possibility of the men that killed my mother being in this country, not to mention this city.
“Where have you seen that guy before, kiddo?” Santi asked instead, switching to his killer mode.
My eyes locked on Santi’s bloody knuckles. More often than not, they were bruised and red. I took his hand and walked us over to the sink. Once I turned on the water, I cleaned off his knuckles. He didn’t even flinch. Like he had bloodied his knuckles so many times, they were numb.
Once they were cleaned up, I turned off the tap and handed him a paper towel. He took it and dried his hands, then spoke as he threw it into the trash. “You know that guy, Amore, from where?”
I winced at his cold tone. Santi could be scary sometimes, though he always made me feel safe. Even now, as pissed off as he was. Adriano misread my hesitance to answer and took my hand into his.
“It’s okay, Amore,” Adriano murmured, consoling me. “You can tell Santi.”
A slight flicker of anger flashed in Santi’s dark gaze, but he didn’t say anything. I didn’t understand why it bothered me that Adriano and I angered him. While Santi held me, it felt like the entire universe ceased to exist. I couldn’t explain it, and it didn’t make sense. Santino was the most feared man in the city, heck probably in the country. He had eliminated more than one rival family, methodically and ruthlessly. But none of it scared me. It made me feel even safer with him. Without even trying, Santi became my knight in shining armor. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt that he’d keep me safe. Always and forever.
Santi Russo was my hero. My rescuer.
I sucked in a shaky breath and wiped my eyes. “I saw him with the men that killed my mom and George.”
Santi looked at me in surprise. “The Venezuelan Cartel killed your mother?”
My heart pounded hard against my chest. Santi looked crazed, in a furious kind of way. Not at me but at the world. His dark eyes promised retribution, the muscle in his jaw ticking. I had never seen him so pissed off. Like he wanted to burn the world down. Forme.
Okay, I was probably reading too much into it. I couldn’t help but see him as my knight.
“Amore, did the Venezuelan Cartel kill your mother?” Santi repeated the question.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. “Yes.”
I took a deep breath. I haven’t done a good job dealing with my demons. It has been years since Mom’s death, but I still couldn’t garner strength to face those memories. The torture she endured. Each time I thought about it, my chest squeezed tightly, gripping my heart painfully and limiting my oxygen intake.
