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R E Y N A

"What's your name?" I asked the man who strikes me with less fear than the other

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"What's your name?" I asked the man who strikes me with less fear than the other. His eyes held a gleam to them, similar to that of a penny. There was a bit of rust around his brown pools, but with the right care, I just knew that the rust would be replaced with a shine.

"Giovanni," he answered.

I thought back to the man who was in the room previously. Power and authority radiated off of him, shamelessly. Disobedience was not presented as an option in my case. Even then, it was difficult not to abide by his every command. Threats reeked from his words with little to no assistance. It was almost as if I could feel his hatred gutting me over and over again.

However, there was something enticing about him. It wasn't only the look in his eye, or his godly features. It wasn't even his muscular body that seemed as though he could please a woman and still have enough energy to do it again. It was his touch that was impolitely gentle. It was his belligerency that hurt me so good. Like a fire, he was in and of itself, my danger.

"And that man who was just in here . . . he is Santino Venturi, right?" I questioned. Even though I knew the answer, a small part of me wished he wouldn't say yes. If he answered yes, nothing good would come out of this for me. I saw their faces, I know their names—they were planning to kill me.

Giovanni released me from my restraints, but I couldn't look away from him. Based on the number of information I retained about Saint, I knew exactly what Santino Venturi was capable of. He would go to the depths of torture to get information out of someone. He would go even further to those who crossed him. The countless of files proved that he held no mercy. From ripping apart limbs to leaving a person just begging to die, he was someone to be scared of.

No outsider had ever seen his face and lived to tell the tale. So, as I sat there in absolute terror, I knew what my destiny was. It was only a matter of time before fate snatches me from the world by the hands of Saint.

"Saint. He doesn't like being called anything else," Giovanni grumbled.

I messed up big time through my messy attempts of lurking. The mafia was a dangerous business that I stupidly placed myself into. I was nothing but a twenty-year-old with no family and no protection from anyone other than myself. My determination held hands with negligence as I foolishly opened the doors and stepped into the beast's den—Saint's den.

Even as I sat back and read about the most dangerous man to ever come across, I never suspected that I would end up in the place where he's killed plenty of people. I thought I was safe and secure, but I was wrong. Too fixated on finding my mother, I didn't realize the mistakes I was making. I thought I was closer than ever, but now I'm farther than I could ever be.

No words fell from my lips. Maybe my exhaustion from fighting those men had suffocated my every word. Maybe it was my logic that had finally given up. Even my thoughts were full of emptiness.

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