Page 74 of No Saint

“What?”

“Is there no one who doesn’t kiss the ground you walk on?”

“Oh plenty,leonessa,” I agree, pulling her towards a food stall at the end that served the best churros. I’d been coming here since I was old enough to chew. “But not many.”

She scoffs, “No wonder your ego is solarge.”

I smirk, “There’s plenty about me that is large, Amelia. You know that.”

Her cheeks flame red and she shakes her head, fighting a smile but the corners of her pretty lips tip up, unable to keep them from doing so.

I order the churros from the vendor, coating mine in cinnamon sugar, and chocolate sauce for Amelia. She scrunches her nose as I take a bite.

“What?”

“Only a crazy person likes cinnamon.”

I burst out in laughter, taking a large bite of the deep fried dessert, the cinnamon sugar alighting on my tongue. She shakes her head but now she smiles freely, matching my step as we head through the busy streets of the shopping district. I say my greetings to all that speak with me, the faces familiar and stories well versed in my head.

“They all know you?”

I nod.

“Why? I thought you liked keeping to yourself.”

“This city has belonged to the Saint’s for generations,” I say, holding out my arm for her to take as we merge into a busier section, she takes it, “It’s not just about power, Amelia. We care about the people that make Redhill their home, including businesses. Most of these clerks have come to us at one time or another for loans, for help or protection.”

“And then they owe you a debt?”

“Would a bank provide a loan out of the goodness of their own heart?”

“Of course not!” She scoffs, “But a bank won’t torture you or your family because you can’t pay it back.”

“You’ve watched too many movies.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not saying every family like ours rules the same way and in some cases, depending on the situations, we will use extreme methods but if someone can’t pay back what we have given, they are offered extensions or a chance to work it off. If I tortured or killed every person who owed me money, then half this city will be empty.”

She goes quiet.

“There’s time to learn, Amelia, it’s new, and it’s a lot.”

She nods but remains silent beside me, her arm relaxed within mine.

I guide her towards the small boutique on the corner and open the door for her, guiding her into the cool, air-conditioned unit.

“Sierra,” I call out to her, smiling a little at all the new clothing she has on the mannequins and racks. “An example of working off what they owe,” I whisper to Amelia, “Sierra came to me when her business was struggling, she didn’t have enough to keep it afloat and pay off her debt. We loaned her half a million and for the first year, she continued to struggle so we offered her a trade. She didn’t pay us back and in return, she became our bespoke clothing seamstress.”

“She did my wedding dress?”

I scoff, “No, she refused. Didn’t think it was right.”

“I like her already.”

“You will. She’s fiery like you. Her debt has long since been cleared but we have a good relationship with her and her family and so she continues to work with us.”

“Gabriel!?” I hear her voice, the lilt of her accent deepening her tone and then she pops her head round the corner and beams brightly. She was a beautiful woman, with her dark skin and onyx eyes. Petite but full of life. She thrived in this shop and with her work and when she wasn’t here, I knew she often worked in her mama’s kitchen down near the marina, serving the sailors that came into port and feeding them the hearty, and warming home cooked recipes they were so famous for.

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