REYNA

I watched the men, all of them speaking to one another like the best of friends. However, I could feel the tension in their every word. They impersonated being allies, but I knew that they were only keeping their adversaries close. I've heard their conversations about one another. All of them were threatened by the power of the other. All of them were waiting for the moment to attack so they could claim the throne. All of them cared about no one other than themselves.

It was hard not to stare at the men for too long. I knew everything they did. I knew everything they were capable of. All of their secrets were stored in my brain, and my brain made sure to remind me of them. It was whispering the thing these men wanted no soul to hear.

All of their victims were playing out in my mind over and over again like a song I just couldn't get out of my head. The men at the table killed people, kidnapped people, did harsh things like pouring acid on the innocent, and forcing their victims to drink poison that will kill them slowly and painfully. And I was there... right in front of them.

I was arms length away from the hands that murdered without remorse. Even though I tried to keep a smile on my face, the screams of people whose lives were mercilessly taken echoed over the men's laughs. Every time I saw them take a drink, the poison that lingered in their victims throats almost burned through mine. Every drag of the cigar, filled my lungs with the intoxicating smoke from the fire they lit that killed each of their prey.

I was surrounded by inhuman savages, and the worst part was pretending like I had no clue.

Saint gripped my wrist. A wrist that I hadn't realized was shaking until he touched me. I turned to look at him, but he was staring out in front of him like he hadn't just grabbed me.

I sighed as I looked away, trying not to look at all of the mobsters in front of me.

"So, Saint..." Dante began. Saint's harsh hold on me grew tighter. I was sure that if he didn't loosen up his grip, he'd break my wrist.

"I thought you would be marrying Cecilia," he said.

I glanced at Saint, wondering what was going through his mind. He didn't seem to like the girl much. Then again, he didn't really like anyone. It just never would occur to me that someone like Cecilia is the girl he would marry.

"I have time to decide," Saint responded dismissively. Dante leaned forward on the table, his elbows resting on the table cloth, and his hands folded underneath his chin. His eyes of hazel were dominantly staring into Saint's. It was like he was asserting his power, and I could feel it.

"And what about the girl you have now?" Dante asked as if I wasn't sitting right there.

"You're in my business. Why?" Saint question, a sarcastic smile rising onto his face. I could tell Saint was trying his best to contain his anger, and the only reason I knew that was because of how tightly he was holding onto me.

Dante chuckled. "I'm just curious, that's all."

"Take your curious ass somewhere else and away from what I'm doing," Saint demanded.

Dante smiled, but before he could say something in response, his father tapped his arm.

I gulped when Dante's eyes flew to me. Awkwardly, I looked down at my lap.

To make myself feel better, I would pick at my nails, but when I tried to pull my wrist out of Saint's hold, he wouldn't allow it. Instead, I had to settle with playing with the fabric of my dress with just one hand.

Saint leaned down until his lips were hovering over my ear. "I don't share, Angel," he whispered, his tone proving just how angry he truly was. It didn't take a genius to know he was referring to Dante. He probably noticed Dante's stare way before I had the chance to.

I didn't know why, but I glanced up, taking in my eyelashes that were covering the top of my vision as I glimpsed at Dante. He was still looking at me.

"He's a friend," I found myself mumbling. I intended to reassure Saint, even though he didn't deserve the reassurance. But I was sure I failed at reassuring him and only fueled his wrath.

Saint dropped my wrist from his hold as I had just scorched him. I glared at my arm, recognizing the purple that began to tarnish my skin.

Saint slid his hand in-between the slit of my dress. His warm, veiny hand palmed my thigh. I immediately tensed up as his hand inched up higher and higher. He was burning me with his touch. So much to the point that my goosebumps began to singe.

I peered at Dante again, growing frustrated that he was still looking at me. He wasn't aware of Saint's manipulations, but I was. And the longer Dante stared, the more careless Saint's actions became.

I gasped as Saint harshly gripped my pulsing sex from outside my panties. I reached for his wrist, but it didn't stop a single thing.

Everyone looked over at me questionably, and I just knew I was blushing due to how much my cheeks were simmering, proving just how much my core was dripping.

"I will fuck you on this table if he doesn't stop looking at what belongs to me," Saint suggested. I bit down on my lip as Saint's grip grew harsher.

"Nothing here belongs to you," I gritted out.

Saint chuckled, sarcasm dripping from his chest.

I thought he was going to respond, or let go of me and laugh about how much it was a joke. However, one thing I never expected was for Saint to pick me up and throw me on the table.

My dress covered Saint's hand but everyone knew exactly what he was doing. He pushed aside my underwear and let his finger massage my lips. I couldn't control my back from pushing off the table and arching against his finger.

"Who do you belong to?" Saint challenged me. I choked back a moan as he slowly pushed his finger between my opening. My eyes shut at the sensations that rushed through my body. I knew people could see us, but God, it felt so damn good.

"Um," I whimpered, barely able to form a thought.

He thrust his entire finger into me, pushing in and out. I was sure he could feel just how much I secretly desired him. I was slippery with juice that only he created every single time he touched me.

"Look at your little 'friend' and tell him who the fuck you belong to," Saint demanded. When I didn't comply, he added a second finger, making my body convulse in pleasure. My walls welcomed Saint as if he had just come home after being gone for so long. I couldn't understand how someone like him could make my body feel on fire.

I peeled open my eyes, rolling my head back so I could see Dante. His eyes were wide as he took in the scene in front of him.

"I... I belong to, um, Santino," I moaned. Saint smirked as his finger carved into me. I had to bite down a loud moan that was begging for release.

Slowly, he moved his hand from my pussy. I tried my best to catch my break, trying to ignore how embarrassed I was.

He turned to the men who watched in shock, placing his two fingers in his mouth and licking off my every drop.

"Dinner was lovely, Tino." Saint smiled.

—

Woah! Woah! Okay, before you attack the story, I warned you that it's dark. And guess what? It gets darker. Sooo if you aren't into that, you should probably leave now lmao. I'm so sorry. I just want to have fun creatively with this book and my mind just gets pretty dark sometimes.

Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Please comment what you think of it because I love to hear. Also, thank you all for 140k followers. You're the best! Love you babes forever!

Question: how do you feel about the last scene in this chapter? *smirks*

See ya next update! Thank you for reading!

—A. Marie