Page 40 of Ruthless Saint

As he licks his lips, then the sauce of his fingers one by one, I clear my throat and look down, unable to take any more of it. If he continues this charade, I’ll have no option but to get up, walk over to his desk and hump his lap. Consequences be damned.

So, to save myself the embarrassment, I put my sandwich down and shuffle through the papers I’m still to transcribe. There are two pages filled with numbers, dates and names, the title on them the same as the one on Dante’s spreadsheet he was going through earlier. I doubt he wanted me to see them. They probably got mixed up when he grabbed the stack for me. I’m about to set them aside when something catches my eye. The name the bus guard used when telling me he’s planning to kill me. I scan the documents again. Something doesn’t add up. I study the pages closer, the feeling that I’m missing something so potent I can almost taste it. I think the numbers are off. If only I could see the spreadsheet Dante had on his laptop and compare it to these two. Maybe I’d see it?

Dante’s phone pings, making my head snap up. I watch him read the text, his whole body tensing up right in front ofmy eyes. I thought I knew what he looks like when he’s angry, but I was wrong.

I’ve never seen him like this before.

The face, a mask of stone, the eyes with an ice cold expression, his rigid stature—if the anger was aimed at me, I’d cower.

His eyes focus on the door behind me.

“I’ll be back soon. Do not leave this room, Alessa. Do you understand?” he says as he stops by my desk.

I know better than to argue. Nodding, I watch as he walks through the door, leaving me alone.

Alone with his laptop. And I never waste an opportune moment.

14

DANTE

“Why is he here?Again.” I ask Angelo as soon as the door behind me closes.

He looks pointedly over my shoulder. “Isshethere all by herself?”

“She’s safe.” I cut him off. No one apart from my brothers knows I’ve moved into a new office space.

“Imeant,is she there all alone with your stuff, Dante?” Angelo growls.

I shrug.

“Cazzo1! What the fuck is wrong with you? She could get into your emails. Or our business files! What if she’s a snitch? She could take it to the cops.”

“She won’t.” I start walking, brushing past my younger brother and doing a hell of a good job of ignoring him.

“You’ve been fucking pussy whipped, haven’t you?” He laughs bitterly. “Never thought I’d see the day, but it’s finally upon us. Dante Santoro, taken down by pussy. And all it took was some out-of-town cunt,” he spits out.

I whirl around, pushing him against the wall and press my forearm against his neck. “Never,” I say cooly. “Ever.” I press my arm harder. “Call. Her. A. Cunt. Again.Capisci2?”

Angelo nods, his hands pulling at my sleeve. I breathe out through my nose, my eyes shooting daggers into his, then finally, when the anger is no longer the driving force, I take a step back, straighten my jacket, then lead the way down the corridor, pretending I didn’t just use force against my younger brother just because he called Alessa a name. I’ve never hurt my younger siblings. I vowed to always take care of them. I was the one who’d separate my brothers when they fought. I was the voice of reason. And now that voice of reason was gone. I saw the shock on Angelo’s face the moment my arm was against his throat, pushing him against the wall. He hadn’t expected the outburst. Neither had I.

It’s all because ofher.

My fists clench. It would have been so much easier if she just didn’t exist. If that day, all those years ago, I never found her. Then everything would have been fine. Nico wouldn’t be sniffing around, threatening everything I’ve built. I wouldn’t feel this sick obligation to protect her, like she’s my responsibility. And I wouldn’t have attacked my brother just now.

Of course I’m on edge. Anyone would have been with all this hanging in the balance.

“It’s okay, Dante.” Angelo touches my arm. “You like her. It’s fine.”

“I don’tlikeher,” I seethe. But deep down, I know she intrigues me. And I. Fucking. Hate. It.

“Okay, whatever,” he says softly. “You don’t like her. You just like to fuck her. We’ve all been there, brother.”

I exhale through my nose. “I haven’t fucked her.Andbefore you say it, I’m not going to.” Nevermind how much my dick thinks it would be a good idea to.

“Maybe that’s your problem,” he mutters under his nose as we walk down the stairs.

I scoff in a reply. This conversation needs to be over. It needed to be over before it started. But, as we walk through the staff door and step onto the plush covered carpet of Black Royale’s main floor, I can’t help thinking his words might ring true. Not because I haven’t fuckedher, but because I haven’t fuckedanybodyin forever. How long has it been now? A month? Longer?

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