Page 16 of No Saint

“You think you’ll get away?” Gabriel clocks the movement, “You’re surrounded,leonessa, nowhere to go. Nowhere to run.”

“I hate you.” I spit.

His mouth kicks up at the side, “I can see that.” His eyes drop to my son.

“Stay the fuck away from him.”

I look to Asher, now without Atlas. He watches curiously, not seeming bothered by the wound I inflicted in his arm. He quirks a brow at me, tipping up his lips to smile. It was unnerving.

He was attractive, devastatingly so, with thick dark hair and brown eyes, skin sun kissed and clean shaven. He had a slight resemblance to Gabriel, subtle but there, telling me they were related somehow.

His eyes slip to something behind me before a hand is placed on my spine, ushering me forward.

“Get off me!” I snap, whirling away only to be grabbed hard on the arm.

“Bruise her with that hand,” Gabriel growls, “And you’ll lose it.” He speaks to whoever holds me. They promptly loosen up but push me forward as Gabriel meets me halfway.

I’m stiff, hot and sweaty and the adrenaline makes my heart beat inside my throat, the blood rushing in my ears. I flinch when he lifts his hand, an instinctive reaction from men raising their hands to me. He pauses, brows furrowing before he continues, and I brace for the pain that never comes.

His finger curls beneath my chin, forcing my head up.

“You can’t run, Amelia.”

“I despise you.”

Someone chuckles but I don’t dare remove my eyes from the fiery hazel ones before me.

Beauty could be disarming and if I let it, Gabriel’s would ruin me. He was built for corrupting just with his looks alone, high cheekbones with deep hollows and a hard jawline that looked sharp enough to cut. Low set brows sitting above hazel eyes that appeared more gold than anything else, like the color of bourbon and framed by thick, black lashes. He had a cruel beauty.

“Then I guess our time together is going to be interesting,” he muses softly, his thumb pressing into my bottom lip. I snatch my face away.

“Take her to her room,” he orders, dropping his hand, “and I meant what I said, mark a single inch of her and you’ll lose a hand.”

Devon waits to the side of the foyer, watching me. I felt a little guilty for the injury I’d caused him but not enough to be sorry about it.

Asher follows me with his eyes, and I feel Gabriel’s burning a hole through my spine.

I keep Lincoln tight to my body, feeling him squirm.

I hadn’t even made it far and I failed.

Though I had my son, and I would never stop trying.

8

Everyone knew the new plan, what I had in store for Amelia and the boy. I could tell they weren’t happy with the new plan, but I couldn’t give two shits about what they thought was best.

My mother guides the seamstress through to the office, a team carrying bags and trunks following quietly behind. A glance at the clock shows it a little past three in the afternoon. I had yet to go and see Amelia or her son, my nephew, but after this morning I doubted a visit would go down too well. Her fight was admirable but as for her future, she’ll have to learn some respect.

The conversation between us would happen sooner rather than later considering I planned on actioning it tomorrow. I could see the planners setting up out in the courtyard, the view of the ocean at their backs.

Leaving everyone downstairs, I head up, rolling my neck to relieve the tension that had built there. On the floor with her room, I could hear the child’s giggle, its squeal filled with innocent delight and her feminine voice filters between the bursts of joy though it doesn’t hold any happiness. I could hear the weight of it in her tone, the fear, the sadness…

It didn’t need to be hard.

She just had to understand.

I don’t knock, I just unlock the door and step inside, clicking it closed behind me. Amelia snaps her head around to me, eyes narrowing in my direction and her fingers wrap around a wooden playing block that had been delivered up to her room to keep the child entertained.

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