Page 2 of Savage Saint (Empire of Secrets #2)

ANGELO

I t’s been twenty-four hours since they took her to the hospital.

Twenty-Four hours I’ve spent trying my hardest not to think of her eyes on mine. Of her raspy voice saying that strange word when she stared into my soul.Of that fucking hair, matted with blood and dirt but still burning red like fresh-spilled blood in the firelight.

It took everything in me not to follow my brothers and instead turn around and drive to my house where I have been killing myself in the gym ever since.

Sweat dripping down my bare torso, I increase the weights on the bar, far exceeding what one would consider safe for a solo training session.

But I don’t give a shit. I need to take care of all this angry energy coiling within my gut.

If I stop now, I know I’d be in my car and on my way to Blackriver, where I’d turn over every fucking stone to get my hands on the slimy figlio di puttana who’s been determined to put a target on his sweaty forehead.

Well, call me the fucking tooth fairy, cause I’m about to make his wish come true. He’s got my attention now.

I slide under the bar and grip the metal with my hands, grunting as I lift it up. I try to concentrate on my breathing, but my mind keeps going back to that damned container. To that frail body...to that red hair that won't let me fucking rest.

The memory of her burns brighter than the first time I killed a man.

I was twelve, and the pride in my father's eyes when he called me his monstro perfetto —his perfect monster—should have warned me of what I was becoming.

But all I felt was relief. Relief that I'd finally proven myself worthy of the Santoro name.

Relief that I could protect my family. Now, eighteen years later, that pride has turned to ash in my mouth.

“Fuuuck!” I scream as I push the bar up from my chest and over my shoulders.

“You done trying to kill yourself?” Dante’s deep voice wraps around my muddled mind as he guides the bar back onto the rack. My arms flop down exhausted as I stay on the bench press with my eyes closed.

“You gonna look at me?” he presses.

I would, but I don’t want him to see the war I’m fighting with myself. “I’ve seen your ugly face before.”

“We both know I’m the pretty one.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. My eyes fly open in shock. Dante doesn’t joke, he never makes light of situations. He’s the stoic one, the one who always keeps his shit together.

“He jokes? What has Alessa done to my brother?” I shake my head, my eyes finding his.

“Not a joke.” He shrugs, keeping his face serious and his gaze on mine.

I burst into laughter, sitting up. “Yeah, okay. What are you doing here?”

“You disappeared.”

“I came home. Clearly.” I shrug.

“You know we need to make a decision,” Dante says as he hands me a towel.

I sigh. “We all know you don’t need me there to make any sort of decisions. Just tell me who I need to get rid of and I’ll take care of it. Like always,” I mutter.

I nearly miss the flinch on his face as I lift the towel to my face. Wiping the sweat away, I wait for his reply.

“I’d rather you were part of the conversation. We’re a unit, Angelo.” With hesitation evident in his voice, he places his hand on my shoulder. We’re supposed to be a unit. But things rarely work how they’re supposed to.

“I need a shower,” I shrug him off, getting up.

My eyes focus on the view of the ocean through the window instead of my brother.

A seagull flies past, looping high above the tree line below before diving down towards the water.

I don’t have it in me to fight him on this, at least not right now.

He needs me, needs his enforcer, whether he likes it or not.

I might as well not make him feel like shit about it.

“I’ll wait in the car,” he nods and turns around, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And once again the light blue eyes are all I can think of.

“Where are we going?” I ask as I slide into Dante’s car fifteen minutes later, my hair still damp.

I fully expect him to drive us to Black Royale, one of the casinos we own in Blackwood, but instead of replying, he ignores my question, his jaw ticking as he pulls out of my driveway, leaving my sanctuary behind.

The roads down the mountain are steep and winding, and every minute that passes by, bringing us closer to the town, has my palms itching to grab for the gun safely tucked into my holster.

“Hospital,” Dante finally mutters under his breath as we pass the “Welcome to Blackwood” sign.

Shit.

My fists clench as my whole body stiffens. “Why?” I don’t want to go there, don’t want to see her .

Another minute passes by before Dante’s knuckles loosen around the steering wheel. “There are—” he starts. “Fuck, Angelo, there are things—” he shakes his head. “Just trust me.”

I watch his face for any clues as he drives us through town, but I can’t discern anything out of the ordinary. His tight jaw is no tighter than usual, his stiff back no straighter than normal. Whatever it is he wants to discuss, he’s keeping it close to his chest. And I. Don’t. Like. It.

Alessa runs out through the hospital door the minute Dante kills the engine.

His body language changes instantly as he steps out of the car and envelopes his fiancée in a hug, burying his nose in her hair, like they haven’t just seen each other less than half an hour ago.

He’s a completely different person when she’s around.

Not a bad different. Just different. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand the feelings he has for her, but I’m happy for them nonetheless.

Dante never thought he was capable of love, but all he needed was my soon-to-be sister-in-law to show him how wrong he was.

It’s clear in the way he looks at her, he’d do anything for her.

“ Fata ,” he breathes into her, his whole body relaxing. She smiles at the nickname he gave her when he decided she put a spell on him.

“Terence,” she retorts.

“Can we please stop with the Angry Birds reference already?” He shakes his head, his lips fighting a smile. Everyone knows he’d let her call him anything as long as she lets him call her his.

“What will you give me to stop?”

“Anything.” He exhales, cupping her face.

Alessa licks her lips. “Anything?” Her voice raspier and breathing shallower.

“Jesus wept. Do you two need a room, or can we get on with whatever I need to be here for?” I sigh, loudly shutting the passenger door.

Alessa takes a step back, causing Dante to shoot me an annoyed look. Whatever. It worked. Without looking back at me, he takes Alessa’s hand and leads her through the automatic door and into the hospital reception area.

The sterile scent of antiseptic invades my nostrils, mingling with the faint undercurrent of despair hanging in the air. As I reluctantly follow them, each step feels like wading through murky waters, thick with the tension of my mood getting darker.

The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare, illuminating the worried faces of waiting families. The waiting area is a cacophony of muted beeps from machines and soft conversation.

With my heart pounding in my chest like a wild drumbeat warning of impending doom, I try to stop the chaos swirling in my mind.

The anxiety of being in this place coiling tighter and tighter, like a noose around my throat, stifling my breath.

I glance at the stark white walls, trying not to think that despite the brightness, this place is where hope comes to die.

I hate hospitals. Hate them with a passion.

It’s where I spent most of my seventh grade, skipping classes to hang out with mamma while she was undergoing treatments.

It’s not that I resent the time I spent here, more like the unnecessary torture they put my mother through.

She withered away each time she left this place, but it didn’t stop her from coming back for more.

It’s hard not to blame myself for the pain she went through just to try and live a little longer, especially since I made her promise she’ll do anything to fight the disease.

I was a selfish little bastard who couldn’t see past not wanting to lose his mother.

Alessa squeezes my hand as we walk into an elevator.

It’s like she knows the black cloud in my mind is getting darker and more chaotic the longer I’m here.

I clear my throat and press the button for the private floor we have in the building—only the best for the Santoros, medical care not excluded—and close my eyes, waiting for the metallic clang reverberating through the air to announce our ascent.

After Dante took over, he made sure to heavily invest in Blackwood.

The hospital, which used to be understaffed and dated, was one of the first on his list. Within five years, the building was unrecognisable, with state-of-the-art medical equipment.

Blackwood Hospital became one of the hidden gems for anyone in the medical field.

Graduates from Ivy League schools fought for residency here, just so they could work under some of the best surgeons and doctors in the country.

A little too late if you asked me. Would have been nice if our father had shown any interest in improving the facilities while his wife was wasting away here.

Alas, he was too busy screwing around to make sure she was being cared for properly in her last days. I hate that fucker more than hospitals.

Dante thinks karma got him in the end, but I disagree. Early-onset dementia saved our father from answering for what he’s done.

He’s gotten away with being a shitty husband and father, and as much as I want to make him pay for it, what’s the point if he doesn’t know why?

I've avoided the man for the better part of the last fifteen years, ever since his diagnosis.

The only time I see him is when he is forced to show his face briefly at functions so that everyone can be fooled into thinking Massimo Santoro is still in charge.

All the while, his three sons have been pulling the strings for over a decade.

I barely notice the elevator stop and Alessa gently guiding me through the corridor and into the waiting area.

“You okay?” she whispers.

I start to reply, but then I see the tightness in Dante’s shoulders, understanding the question was not meant for me.

It was only a couple of weeks ago we were here for her, Dante losing his mind with worry for the woman he loves after Nicolosi kidnapped her, intent on making sure she disappears.

Like I said, the capo has a death wish—one I’ll gladly grant him.

I look around for Luca, but before I can ask about him, he comes out of a supply closet, a shit eating grin splitting his face as he zips his trousers, one of the nurses following close behind him. Too focused on Alessa, Dante doesn’t notice what our brother has been up to.

“Now that we’re all in the same room,” I say in a bored tone. “Can we please get to the reason you dragged me here?”

Dante finally spots Luca, whose stupid grin has thankfully disappeared, a look of concern on his face instead.

“Right.” Dante nods. “It’s about the girl.”

I sigh, resigned. I’m not an idiot. The fact that we’re standing in the waiting room of the private floor of the hospital after I discovered an unconscious woman locked in a container points to just that.

But if they want to treat me as one, I’ll let them, so instead of replying, I let my gaze drift to the window, noticing the darkening sky.

A storm is brewing outside, mirroring the one in my head.

“After examining her,” Dante continues, as I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the window and look back at him. “The doctors have some theories.”

“Brilliant, we have some budding detectives on the medical staff. Just what everyone needs,” I mutter.

“Don’t be a dick,” Dante growls.

“What are the theories, then? Who is she?”

“We still don’t know who she is. She didn’t have any documents on her. Nothing to identify her. Arrow is doing his thing with her DNA sample, so hopefully, we’ll have some answers soon.”

“If she’s in the system,” I retort. Arrow is our hacker, one that has worked with us for years. They’re the best of the best, but even they won’t be able to make something out of nothing.

“If she’s not, we’ll just have to wait until she wakes up so she can tell us who she is and how she ended up in Nicolosi’s container,” Luca says, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“We think we might know why,” Alessa says quietly, her voice tight. She looks up at Dante, her eyes silently pleading for him to continue.

“Why?” I say, annoyed at this whole thing taking so long. I want this conversation to be over already. I want to be out of here and back in my house. Or out finding a target, getting my hands dirty. Anything to not be thinking of hospitals. And blue eyes that can’t give me a fucking rest.

“We think she might have been trafficked,” Dante says.

My eyes snap to his in shock. “Under our noses?” I mean, we’ve had suspicions that Nico’s Blackriver Kittens were more than just stripping, but trafficking?

“She has his tattoo.”

“Okay. Maybe she used to strip for him.”

“It’s fresh and infected. Like someone has done it in a hurry just to mark her,” Luca says.

“You’ve seen it?” I growl at him, my fist clenching at the thought of someone ogling her frail body while she’s unconscious.

“No,” he lifts his hands in a placating motion. “The doctor who examined her told us. She’s got the Blackriver Kitten tattoo, the one all Nico’s strippers get. But there’s one more thing—” he hesitates, exchanging a tense look with Dante.

“What is it?” I ask as Alessa bursts into tears.