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4

When I first heard about this hacker, Red. I expected Red to be male. Blame it on misogyny bullshit, but it was fitting. No woman would hack into organizations such as mine and the other crime families. No woman simply had the balls to do so, or so I thought. I was wrong, and that isn't a statement I will ever admit. Red was a woman—a strange woman. She was frightened and acted on that fear. I was wrong.

"And you think we have her?" Giovanni asked, finally making his voice heard.

"I-I thought. That's why I checked. I-I checked every crime organization, but no one has her," she answered as I placed my gun into the waistband of my pants. The panic quickly flew away from her eyes while she stalked my movements.

"Which crime organizations?" Giovanni questioned. She tore her eyes away from my glaring ones when she shyly looked over at the man in the corner.

"T-The Morelli's, Rubino's, Santoro's, and, uh," Reyna glanced over at me. "The Venturi's."

"You have files for the three other Italian families?" Giovanni asked. He was wearing a brightened expression on his face. It was nerd porn to his ears.

"I-I'm sorry. I'll give it all back. P-Please don't kill me," she stuttered out. Her brown eyes beamed into my own. Honesty was pouring out of her like water. Cooperativeness and transparency were dangerous things in my world. She was so innocent—so pure. I hated innocence because it was only another danger. In fact, it was the worse one. Innocence was something anyone could take advantage of. Innocence was so open and ready for a villain disguised as a victim to tear apart. I wanted to be that villain that taints her, stains her, and most of all, ruins her.

"Put the gag back in her mouth," I ordered.

Without another word, I exited the room.

It didn't take long for Giovanni to join me outside. His brows were scrunched together. "She can get us what we need, Saint. I've been trying for years to get just one of those files, but she got all three! In less than a month, she will be able to tell us where Viktor is. Don't you care about what he's done to my family? Don't you care about what he's done to your family? We can't just let her slip aw-"

Vexation heavily wore itself on my face as I pushed him into the wall by the collar of his shirt. My fist collided with the wall right beside his face. The only color I could see was red, and the only emotion I could feel was hatred.

"Don't you ever question whether or not I care! You will speak to me with respect, or I will have no problem guiding you on where to find it," I seethed out.

"You're right. I apologize," Giovanni stated.

Letting go of his shirt, I backed away from him. "Take her to my house and give her the guest bedroom, where you will lock all the doors and windows. Before that, you will tell Adriano I need to speak with him."

"So, that means you're gonna get her to help us?" Giovanni asked, buoyantly.

I thought about the girl. She wasn't anything special. She was quite ordinary. However, I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Giovanni with someone. He always kept to himself and hid away behind a computer screen. "I should've known you would have a little nerd kink."

"Kink? No, sir. I'll like any woman that brings me that much closer to finding Viktor," he stated. I gazed at him questionably. His intentions seemed pure, but in a world full of false promises, no one can ever be too sure.

"Have fun."


R E Y N A

"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.

I could feel my eyesight stick onto the small particles of dust floating in the air, and for some reason, it was almost as if it hurt to break my gaze.

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