《The Prodigy | ✔︎》28

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REYNA

After a long, quiet drive up north, we made it to a mansion almost the size of Saint's. Contrary to Saint's home, there were dogs running around the front yard who appeared friendly. The urge to run up to them and embrace them in my arms was tempting.

I never really had a dog before. I've always wanted pets, but time wouldn't allow that. Too much of my attention was spent hacking to ever worry about whether my dog had eaten, drank, and used the potty where it needed to. There was nothing I wanted more than to have a dog of my own someday.

The guard pulled open the door for me and helped me out of the vehicle where I waited for Saint. I could hear his footsteps approaching as he neared me. As I waited, I glanced at the dogs to see how well trained they were. At our arrival, they sat and watched us with their curious noses in the air. It amazed me how they didn't bother to make a single move.

Crickets began to chirp, alerting each other of their presence. The night sky gazed down upon me like a mother smiling at her sleeping newborn baby. Even the stars sparked a spotlight, allowing the warmest of yellow to cast down on the world, highlighting everything we tried so hard to hide.

If I weren't standing in front of a madman's house, I would have actually took the time to enjoy the night. Instead, my heart was racing. My palms were sweating. I was sure he could hear my heavy breaths from where he stood beside me. This man took Giovanni. He was evil and I knew it.

Saint stared at me from the corner of his eye, sighing out loud. "In chess, what skill is most important, Angel?" he asked, placing my his hand on my lower back and beginning to guide me into the house.

"Strategy," I answered without hesitation. My uncle taught me that. When we would wait long hours for downloads or transporting information, we would sit and play chess. For years, he would always beat me, but as I grew older and wiser, it was my turn for victory in every game that we played. He became far too predictable, and it made it easier to take home the trophy home every single time.

"Strategy." He nodded. "I take what I learn from chess and I apply it to how I do my job. I never go in without confidence in my strategy, and neither should you."

"How am I supposed to have confidence in my strategy when I don't have one? I don't know what your plan is by..." I paused to lower my voice. "By entering the house of someone that took Giovanni and may be working for Viktor," I whispered.

Saint stopped walking and turned to me. There was fury blazing in his eyes. There was so much fire raging within him that I had to take a few steps away from him. His chest heaved up and down and his eyes narrowed so I could no longer see the blue of his eyes.

"That's the problem. You trust too easily. I could be leading you off a cliff and you would follow me like a naïve child. You're too smart to act so damn stupid," he stated. "Do not trust that I will do what's best for you because I won't. No matter what, you need to use your own intelligence and your own resources to develop your own strategy. What is your plan if things go wrong? What is your plan if I leave you here like a sitting duck? I have to know that you won't be defenseless. Your mind is powerful. Use it to your best advantage. You should always be one step ahead, even if that means you're one step ahead of me. Don't forget that," he advised.

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I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing would come out. He was right. The only reason why we were standing in front of Dante's house was because of me. I was the one that told him about Dante taking Giovanni. I was the one that led him that much closer to finding Viktor. Me.

Just because I didn't have the strength or experience of a gangster, it didn't mean I should sit around and not use what I did have... information and my ability to hack almost anything. I knew things about every single person that has done so much as touching a gun. I knew their weakness, I knew their secrets, I knew their alliances, I knew their enemies, and I knew their tragedies—including Saint's. How foolish of me to allow any of them to punk me or belittle me when I was capable of ending everything they ever built. I could do so little as lifting a phone, dialing the FBI. I could exchange a promise with their enemy that by telling them the weakness of every mobster, they vow to protect me and my identity. I had power. I had potency. I had what they all wished to have, and would do anything to obtain.

Saint whispered, "if only you could hear the conversations about fearing Red, you wouldn't be standing here like some scared child."

I looked down at my hands, clenching then unclenching. As if I was living in some fantasy world, I could almost see the power in my fingertips for the first time in my life. I shouldn't be punked by men who should be kissing my ass.

I looked him square in the eye. "Fine, but you're not going to leave me like a sitting duck. You're going to protect me because I'm all that you have in finding Viktor, Santino. You need me," I declared. He didn't say anything. He placed his hand on my back again and urged me to resume walking, but I didn't. I stayed put.

"Since we are a team, I want to know your strategy here. I'm only useful if you include me on your plans," I told him.

Despite his advice, I trusted Saint to watch out for me. He needed me. There was no way he would leave his only viable source, knowing that someone would happily come scoop me up and pay me a huge sum of money just to use my brain.

If he wanted me to create my own strategy, I would. I'll depend on Saint's soldiers, experience, and strength for as long as he depended on my brain and information. I would use him, and he would use me.

"Get to the opposing king without losing our own," he said.

In chess, the objective of the game was to be the first one to opponent's king while protecting your own. It was the only way to win. The best way to achieve victory is to always be one step ahead. So far, Viktor has always been one step ahead of everything. If we wanted to succeed, we had to put an end to Viktor's lead.

"Luckily for you, the queen's purpose is to protect the king, and trust me when I say that she will," I declared.

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Saint looked at me. I mean, really looked at me. He was looking beyond my average-sized lips, small button nose, and freakishly large, brown eyes. As if he could see my entire future and past, he stared at me. Like within my eyes, there was a dream he didn't want to awaken from.

"Why?" he asked, taking me by surprise.

Why. I didn't know why. He was the last person I ever thought I'd consider helping. After finding out about all the wrong he did, I told myself he was on top of the list of people I should always avoid. Now, I was vowing to protect and help him. Nothing in my gut warned me that I could possibly be making a terrible decision. Nothing in my heart attempted to hold back my words. There was no tingle, no resistance, and no doubt. I couldn't even hear the voice in the back of my head that urged me to feel that something was wrong. I didn't know why.

"I'm just following my gut," I answered honestly. He continued to stare at me, time forcing his gaze to grow more and more intense.

"You want to know what my gut says?" he asked, taking a step closer to me. I gulped. He was so close that I could feel his body heat wrapping around me like a warm blanket.

"What?" I asked.

He leaned down until his lips hovered above my ear and whispered, "it's telling me to eat your pretty little pussy before shoving my cock so deep inside of you, it'd be a miracle if you didn't walk out pregnant."

Saint pulled away just as the front door opened and a half-naked Dante walked out with a welcoming smile.

"Saint! Gabriella!" Dante called, his smile never leaving his face. "Come in!"

Saint walked off, leaving me there stunned. I was still trying to process what just happened. He spoke like he meant it, and my body reacted as if it liked it.

After clearing my throat, I followed behind Saint and walked into the huge home of Dante Morelli. I still couldn't get over the embarrassment I felt after Saint publicly fingered me in front of the richest people in the city.

"You seem happy," Saint said as Dante shut the front door.

I looked around the home, taking in the white interior. Paintings hung all around the wall, and the soft sound of opera music danced around us. I could smell food, and I'd be lying if I said my stomach wasn't growling.

"I am. I am," Dante stated. "You know, my father was very upset about the show you two pulled at his ball, but he's willing to forgive and forget."

His words easily earned my attention. Tino Morelli was never known for forgiving and forgetting. Vengeance and hate were his best of friends. He walked with them every single time someone did something he didn't like. It never mattered how small or how large the situation was—Tino wanted payback.

"Why?" I spoke up, taking Dante by surprise. I glanced at Saint who did nothing but watch me.

"What do you mean... why?" Dante scoffed. He folded his arms across his chest. I didn't ignore the way he looked me up and down, taking in my figure for his own eyes.

I looked at Saint again, hoping for him to either tell me to shut up or to keep going. When his face remained empty of expression, I turned back to Dante.

"Why is he willing to forgive and forget? If someone were to do something like that at a very high class event and I was the host, I wouldn't be so easily forgiving," I said.

Dante smiled. "We can discuss this more over dinner. Please, come. I had my cook make us a fine dinner just before her departing."

He walked away and beckoned us to follow him through his house and toward his dining room where dinner was waiting for us. Our plates were already set up, the seats were already pushed back. The only thing missing was us.

"Have a seat," Dante said, holding a chair for me to sit in. The moment my bottom sunk into the cushions of the seats, he pushed the chair closer to the table.

"Thank you," I mumbled.

Dante sat across from both Saint and I and didn't wait to dig into the food. I stared down at the delicious food on my plate and lifted my fork to take the chicken into my mouth.

When I glanced at Saint again, he wasn't eating a single thing.

Just as I brought another piece of chicken into my mouth, Saint stood up, ripping the gun from his pants and aiming it at Dante Morelli.

Dante looked like he knew this would happen as he glared at Saint.

"You know about Giovanni, don't you?" Dante asked. "Well, if you want him back alive, I suggest you put the gun down seeing as I'm the only person who knows where he is."

I hate to end the chapter here, but the next part of this will be in Saint's POV. Yay! Stay tuned for that. I wanted to update on halloween but I couldn't seem to finish this chapter.

Also, to the people who are calling this book boring... is it boring because you want to read porn or is it actually boring?

If you want porn, go watch it... no one is stopping you sis lmao. I just want this story to actually have a good plot, but the seggsey stuff will come soon and it'll all be worth it.

Hope you enjoyed reading! I LOVE YOU GUYS! I know my author notes are mean sometimes, but I promise I'm nice sometimes!

Question: what do you think/hope will happen next?

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