She allowed me to slide her glasses off her face and carefully fold them up to sit them on the desk. Her eyes peered up at me. It was only then that I noticed the lightest amount of freckles were sprinkled on her nose. She parted her pink lips, unintentionally forcing my eyes to them. I cupped her cheek, watching as some of her brown hair got trapped between my hands and her soft skin. In some strands, the lightest brown reflected the light from the room as the darker strands remained dull but full of life.

It was as if in that moment, I could see just how enthralling she was. As if I needed glasses my entire life and now after getting them, I could finally see. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. It was a beauty that was too unique to not remember.

Softly, I caressed her bottom lip as she closed her eyes. Her long eyelashes casted a shadow on her cheeks.

"Look at me," I said.

She pulled her eyes open and peered at me with those chocolate eyes that always stared into my soul when she was sucking my dick. However, now they lurked with something less erotic and more passionate.

She looked at me like how my mother once looked at my father. How all of the bad seemed to flee from her mind just so she could hold onto the good. That look that both Reyna and my mother shared was equivalent to that of an addict. As if they were no different from the people scavenging for drugs or alcohol, they would go through all the physical, emotional, and mental pain in the world just to achieve that climax of love—their ultimate high and dose of dopamine. Just like me, their addiction made them feel—feel hope, feel loved, feel alive.

"What's wrong?" Little Red asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

"Nothing," I answered.

After clearing my throat, I tore my gaze away from her. The last thing I wanted was for my thoughts to drift any deeper. My mother was right about one thing—it was scary. It was scary to think about, to feel, to understand. I didn't want fear to course through me at the thought that I could possibly look at her in the same way she looked at me.

"You mentioned we had a lot to discuss. What is it?" she questioned.

I sighed and began to pull my suit jacket off my body. I undid the top buttons of my shirt before rolling my sleeves up just above my elbow. She only watched me sit down on the bed.

Just like that, I explained everything. From meeting with Savannah who told me about Tino and Dante knowing Viktor, to Viktor being more than one person. She took everything I said with a nod.

I could see her thoughts running a mile a minute. It was something she just couldn't help. The woman was a genius—the most smartest person I had ever met. If there was a question, she would do everything in her power to find an answer. It was just one of the things that made her so majestic.

"Viktor has to be the father and son. It makes it easier seeing as both of their names are Viktor," she said.

"That's what I'm thinking," I said. "I forgot to mention that Tino is hosting a meeting tomorrow to talk about... you."

"Me?" her eyes widened.

"Red," I informed her.

I got up from the bed to stand up in front of my little red just before I squat down in front of her. It gave me a sense of deja-vu from the moment I first met her. A smirk came across my face at the memory of her being all tied up.

"I have a plan. When you are scared of something, you leave it alone out of fear of what it might do to you. It's inevitable. It's human nature. If you want the crime families off your back, you will need to send them a message, Angel. You will need to scare them," I said softly

She tilted her head to side in confused. I found the motion quite cute. "What do you mean?" she asked.

I chuckled darkly. "Angel..."

"Saint..."

I grabbed ahold of her hands. The only way to get anybody off her back was to get in touch with her dark side. To really sting them enough for them to flinch and run away, but not enough to kill them. She'd have to go from a daisy to a rose with the most puncturing thorns. From Angel to Little Red.

"I'll leave you some instructions before the meeting. If you do it correctly, no one will ever bother you," I said.

When she nodded her head, I stood up.

"I have a gift for you," I stated. Her brows came together when I walked over to my closet.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You don't have to keep buying me things. You already pay me so much money to work for you," she explained.

I chuckled. "I thought women liked that kind of thing."

I grabbed a box from my closet just before placing it down on the floor in front of her. She stared at the box curiously before looking up at me.

"Well, it makes me feel like I'm... I don't know... your hooker or something." she shrugged.

I raised a brow. "Aren't you?"

Just like that, I ignited a smile out of her. She shook her head back and forth but that smile never left her face. Even as she reached down to open the box, it was like her smile grew wider as she took in the sight of a case.

"No way," she whispered. Happily, she peeled open the case as a brand new violin came to view. "You got me a Fiddlerman Master Violin? These are ridiculously expensive!"

The price of the violin was how much it cost to get my cars detailed after a murder. I was running a multibillion dollar cooperation. A violin wouldn't do so much as put a dent in my money. However, it seemed to mean so much to her. She wore the biggest smile on her face, and I knew that the cost of that was absolutely priceless.

Suddenly, her smile disappeared and a frown took over. "Giovanni promised to buy me one. We were talking one day, and I brought up how I loved the violin and if my mother hadn't left, I'd probably be at Juilliard as a violinist right now. I just can't believe he's gone."

I kicked the box off to side so I could grab ahold of her. I brought her up by her arm so she was standing directly in front of me. A rage settled in my gut and if I didn't let it out, it felt like I'd explode.

"Can you shut the hell up about him? He didn't get you shit—I did," I reminded her. "If I hear his name, or any man's name, come out your mouth again, I will fuck the life out of you, am I understood?"

She didn't say anything. She only stared at my chest that was heaving up and down, and the grip that was growing tighter and tighter with each passing second.

"I was just sharing a sad memory, that's all. I appreciate the gift, but not the anger and jealousy. I could want you, but I will not be someone you can walk all over and threaten and demand around. If you feel something, say it. Don't ruin something that could be good for you," she said, harshly ripping her arm from my grip.

She placed her violin into the case and closed it back up. I watched as she grabbed the case and walked out of the door.

Once she was gone, all I could do was stare at the door.

Her words weren't anything I hadn't heard before. It was a repeat of what my mother once said to my father. When he put his hands on my little sister for the first time, my mother was so consumed with anger that she finally did the one thing I've always wanted her to do—she left.

She took Francesca and she left. I was so glad to see her get in that car. I listened to it startup just before she drove off and never returned. I would stand by my window every day for hours, knowing that she would one day come back for me, but she never did.

Shouts after shouts, beatings after bearings, tears after tears, mama never came back. Maybe she thought I was too far gone. Maybe she assumed that my father's blood already ran too deep into my soul and she couldn't afford another version of him. Maybe she never truly loved me as much as she said she loved me. Maybe all she wanted was to protect her stupid fucking daughter and never her own son. Maybe the entire time when she gave that bullshit story about loving me, she was just as much as a manipulative as papa. And I was a fucking idiot trying to protect her for all that time. Just to find out that she left me. I never hated anyone at all—not even my drunk of a father—as much as I hated my mother. At least my father had been real from the very beginning. She wasn't.

She lied to me, tricked me, grabbed me by her sharp claws and squeezed me. She took every bit of hope I had left and she squashed it with her bare hands. Mama beat me harder than anything my father had ever done without ever even touching me. She killed me and stole my soul as she locked me in a dungeon to live with a man who could only feel through the bruises of my skin.

I hoped she'd die the worst kind of death. I hoped that my baby sister was killed right along with her. I hoped that every fucking family member I had would burn to death. I would go to sleep happily every night while dreaming of their screams and their blood. They would feel my hurt. They would feel my pain.

I took a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I had to stop thinking about the past. Reyna wasn't like my mother. She couldn't be. She wanted to help me, and if I wanted to keep her help, I would need to do better.

I walked out of my room and made my way down the hallway until I was standing outside Reyna's room. Just as I was about to push open the door, I could hear the sound of her playing her violin.

It was beautiful and unlike anything I had ever heard. All I could do was shut my eyes and let it soothe me. Pushing away the darkness of the past, it brought color and light to the present. Even though she spoke no words, I could feel my mother reaching out to me and hugging me. Everything I forgot when my mother left me, I could feel it now. It was too hard to ignore, and too difficult to push away. However, I refused to be addicted to the wrong kind of love. I'd take alcohol any day because at least it doesn't have the two legs to walk away.

With that, I headed back to my room and shut the door.

—

Happy new year! I love you guys. Cant wait to see what's in store for 2022. I'm going to try to finish all of my incomplete works here on wattpad, so stay tuned for that. Hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. It was deep and I hope I worded everything well enough to understand and actually feel. I teared up a bit while writing this—i'm also very sensitive so idk.

Question: did you enjoy learning more about Saint's past? Does it make it easier to understand his character?