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Cruel Saints: Chapter 13


Sitting between Lucian and Carson, I choose the evil I know a little better, and scoot closer to Lucian, so the left side of my body doesn’t touch Carson’s.

I keep telling myself Lucian’s done nothing to hurt me. He doesn’t shove me around like Dante does. He hasn’t raised a hand against me… yet.

Instead, Lucian’s hugged and kissed me, and even though it’s been against my will, it’s nothing compared to the depravity Dante has inflicted on me.

Lucian’s the most dangerous man I know, and I still fear him, but I can’t deny he’s given me more comfort and affection than I’ve ever received in my life.

It’s still confusing as hell.

I also can’t ignore the fact that Lucian killed those men. What stops him from killing me when my father upsets him?

Carson’s phone begins to ring, and when he moves to pull it out, his elbow connects with my side.

“Sorry,” he mutters, and then he takes the call, speaking in Russian.

His language sounds angry as if he’s threatening whoever’s on the other side of the line’s entire family with death.

I try to not make it too apparent as I press closer to Lucian, but still, he notices. Lucian lifts his left arm, and wrapping it around my shoulders, he pulls me against his side. I have to turn into him, so it’s not uncomfortable. Not knowing what to do with my hands, I keep them clutched together on my lap.

God, my thoughts and emotions are a complete mess. How’s it even possible to fear a man but still feel safe with him? Have I lost my mind?

My eyes lower to Lucian’s legs, and though he’s been in the same suit all day, it’s still clean with not a speck of dust on it. He also smells good and not like a man that’s been running half the day.

Definitely not sweaty and rancid like Dante.

The thought makes me mentally flinch, and as if Lucian can sense it, he tightens his arm around me. Lifting his other hand to my cheek, he nudges my head until it’s resting against his shoulder, then he whispers, “Close your eyes and rest.”

I doubt I’ll find any rest while I’m surrounded by Russian assassins and the head of the Mafia.

My eyes drift over Lucian’s white button-up shirt, his jacket, and then I lift them to his neck. Slowly they inch up, taking in the neat scruff on his jaw until they settle on his mouth.

Instantly I think of the kiss and how it felt to have his lips caressing mine. Strong and sure. Addictive and hot.

The thoughts make warmth spread through my body and up my neck.

If we were two ordinary people who met by chance, I have no doubt I’d fall in love with him in a heartbeat.

But we’re not.

I’m Elena Lucas. A bargaining piece.

He’s Lucian Cotronti. Head of the Mafia.

Still, I’ve never been kissed like that before. There was so much heat, it makes what I shared with Alfonso seem detached and childish. Keeping in mind, I was only seventeen.

Alfonso was my first… and, well, the only boy close to my age on the property. It’s not like I had a wide selection.

‘You still don’t have a selection of men to choose from,’ I remind myself.

You’re marrying Dante in eleven days.

Unless Lucian can stop it.

My eyes dart up to his, and I realize he’s been watching me stare at him all this time.

“What are you thinking?” he asks softly as if he doesn’t want the other men to hear.

Figuring I have nothing to lose, I ask, “Can you stop the wedding between Dante and me?”

Lucian’s eyes drift over my face before they lock with mine again. “Do you want me to?”

Without hesitating, I nod. “Yes. More than anything.”

God, please!

My heart begins to beat faster as I wait for Lucian’s answer to the most important question I’ve ever asked.

Finally, he nods. “There’s no way you’re marrying Dante. Stop worrying about it.”

Just like that?

My breath explodes over my lips as pure relief floods me. “Thank you…” Unable to find more words, I repeat, “Thank you.”

Lucian’s dark brown gaze takes mine prisoner. The intense expression on his face makes my heartbeat pick up and my stomach spin as if it’s being tossed around by a strong wind.

Alexei shatters the moment when he says, “We’re five minutes out. Get ready.”

Lucian pulls his arm away from me, and I slump back against the seat. When he takes the guns out to check them, my eyes lock on his sure hands and the weapons.

Hands that won’t hesitate to take a life.

I wonder if he even feels bad about the men he killed. How many other lives has he taken? How many more will he still take?

What makes him any different from Dante besides the fact that he’s more powerful?

Okay, I’ll admit there’s a lot that sets the two of them apart. For one, Lucian doesn’t look like a monster, not like Dante. Lucian also hasn’t abused me in any way.

Still, I’ve only known him for three weeks. A lot can change. Even with Dante, it took time before he started abusing me.

Yeah, it’s probably a matter of time before Lucian will show his true cruelty.

When we enter an airfield, the atmosphere grows tense in the car. Demitri stops the vehicle and then orders, “Move fast.”

Lucian shoves the door open, and then he gets out. I scoot to the side and climb out behind him. While Carson, Alexei, and Demitri keep an eye out, Lucian and I grab our luggage, and then I have to jog to keep up with the men as we make our way to the stairs.

As I climb the first step, Alexei takes my luggage from me, muttering, “Faster, little one.”

I rush up the steps and into the cabin and keep moving toward the back of the lavish plane, where I take a seat in the corner.

A couple of seconds later, I watch as our luggage is placed in the overhead compartments, and then Lucian comes to sit next to me.

The Russians sit down on the opposite side of the plane, and I let out a relieved breath.

Moments later, we’re moving, and I quickly strap myself in. As the plane gains speed, the only comfort I have is that I’ll be back in Italy soon.

I glance through the window at the dark night outside, feeling a pang of sadness that I didn’t get to explore Switzerland’s beauty.





After the moment we shared in the car where Elena asked me for help, she’s been quiet.

I’m taking it as a sign that she’s warming up to me. She wouldn’t ask me for help if it was otherwise.

She’s staring out of the window, and it gives me a moment to take a good look at her.

Her skin is smooth, and except for the old scar, the fading bruise on her jaw, and the marks on her neck, there are no other blemishes. She has a small button nose and big eyes, the light brown of her irises, not a color I’ve seen before. Elena is breathtakingly beautiful, there’s no denying that, but it’s not the reason I want her.

She’s so damn feminine it calls to every part of the man in me.

She’s not the strongest, and yes, she probably comes with a fuck-ton of baggage, but it will take more than that to scare me off. Actually, it doesn’t bother me at all.

Maybe it’s because I’ve lost my mind with grief, or because I just can’t deny myself this one thing, but I make up my mind to arrange a marriage between Elena and myself.

Valentino will have no choice if he wants to keep the peace, and Elena will be too glad to be rid of Dante, so she shouldn’t mind.

And me?

My eyes drink in the stunning woman beside me.

I’ll have Elena. To fuck until lust turns to love.

Turning my gaze away from Elena before I start getting hard, I’m met with a smirk from Alexei.

The corner of my mouth lifts, no doubt he’s already guessed what I’m planning.

Needing to know what I’ll be walking into, I ask, “You saw my father?”

Alexei nods.

“Where was he shot?” I ask, the loss deepening my voice.

“He was meeting me at a café. It was probably a long-distance shot. They took him out before I got there.”

God, at least he didn’t know. It’s all we can ask for when our time comes.

I find comfort knowing my father didn’t suffer on his knees before he died. That would’ve killed me.

“Where is he now?”

Suddenly Elena places her hand on mine, and not wanting to lose her touch, I keep from looking at her as I turn my hand over and link our fingers.

“The morgue.”

Christ, the two words rip through me, and I tighten my hold on Elena’s hand.

“As soon as we’ve had the funeral, we’ll get to work,” I say, knowing I have to start thinking like the head of the Mafia and not the son of the greatest man who ever lived.

But first, I need to lay him to rest.

Now I only have an aunt left. My mother’s sister, Aunt Ursula, is my last living relative.

I turn my head to Elena, and she glances at me.

And I’ll have you. To have and to hold until death do us part.

As if Elena can hear my thoughts, she pulls her hand free from mine while a frown forms on her forehead, then she asks, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like you’re planning something I’m not going to like,” she explains.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” I assure her, not wanting to tell her yet I’m going to arrange a marriage between us. First, I need to speak with Valentino.

“Now I’m definitely going to worry,” she mumbles as she goes back to staring out the window.

An hour later, as we near the landing strip, Alexei says, “Your guards will meet us at the airfield. I had them wait there. I get a feeling we’re going to need an army to get you safely home.”

I nod, then ask, “Will Bruno be there?”

He’s my father’s personal guard and in charge of all the other guards we have. It was his job to keep my father safe.



We start our descend, and soon the plane comes to a stop. I unfasten the seat belt, and rising to my feet, I wait for Elena to get up before I take her hand and pull her to the door.

Demitri opens for us and exits the plane first, with Alexei behind him.

I keep a tight hold of Elena as we take the steps down to the tarmac, not worrying about our luggage which one of the guards will retrieve.

Spotting Bruno, I stalk toward him.

He begins to shake his head, his face torn with guilt.

Pulling the Heckler and Koch from behind my back, I lift it to his head, then growl, “You had one job. You had to keep him safe.”

He nods, knowing what’s coming.

“Follow my father to the afterlife and keep him safe until I join him.” Without a second thought, I pull the trigger, and Bruno drops to the tarmac.

Elena gasps and pulls against my hold on her, but I yank her back to my side.

“Bring his body and the luggage,” I instruct Franco, who’s next in charge. “You’ve just been promoted.”

Franco nods and orders two guards to take care of everything, and then he gestures for me to walk. Speaking into a microphone, he says, “We’re on the move.

I tighten my grip on Elena as I begin to walk, practically dragging her behind me. “Keep up, or I’ll fucking throw you over my shoulder,” I snap at her.

She picks up her pace, and then I hear a strangled sob as we reach the armored Mercedes G Wagon. Franco opens the door for me, and I have to shove Elena inside. Once I slide in beside her and Franco shuts the door behind me, I turn to her.

She’s fucking pale again, her eyes too wide.

“Do I need to start warning you every time I intend on shooting someone?” I ask, feeling a little irritated.

She scoots away from me, shaking her head.

Franco climbs in behind the steering wheel, then he says, “Mr. Koslov will take the lead.”

“Okay.” Matteo gets in the passenger side, and it has me saying, “You’ll be second in charge from now on.”

“Thank you, Sir,” he replies humbly.

“Who do we have that’s good?” I ask Franco.


Leo is one of the older guards. He’s been with us for over ten years, so I feel he’s a good pick.

“Inform him that he’s to guard Miss Lucas,” I instruct. “Form a team which he will take charge of. I want five men with her at all times when she goes out.”

I can feel Elena’s eyes snap to me, and turning my head, I meet her shocked gaze. “Do you have a problem with the arrangements?” She quickly shakes her head, and it has me muttering, “Good because it’s not negotiable.”

Leaving the airfield, we form a motor brigade. Soon I’ll be home, and then I’ll have to face the sight of my dead father.



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