NO SAINTS HERE

CHAPTER TWELVE

RINA'S POV

I opened my eyes and everywhere was dark.

I didn't know how long I had been sleeping. It felt like forever and not long enough at the same time.

I stretched and looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table.

11:47pm.

I had slept for hours.

I was exhausted from crying. That was what happened when you cried until your body just gave up and pulled you under.

My eyes scanned the room immediately.

He wasn't here.

I let out a slow breath.

Good.

My body was at ease.

I rubbed my eyes and pushed myself sluggishly to the edge of the bed. This bed was so f**king big that just getting out of it felt like a mission for a small woman like me. I reached for the light switch beside the bed and the room came alive.

I stood there for a moment just looking around properly for the first time.

Then my eyes landed on the wardrobe.

It was built into the entire wall. Dark wood panels with matte black handles running the full length of the room. I walked over slowly and pulled one side open.

I went still.

One section was nothing but suits. Dark ones. Black, charcoal, deep navy. Perfectly pressed and hanging in a row like soldiers. Dress shirts beside them... white, black, grey. Ties folded neatly on a rack. Blazers. Waistcoats. A full tuxedo at the far end still in its garment bag.

For a gangster and drug dealer this man wore a lot of suits.

I pulled the next section open.

This side was more casual. Black tees stacked neatly on shelves. Hoodies. Joggers. A few plain white shirts. Everything folded perfectly like someone who couldn't stand disorder.

And then I saw the shoes.

A whole separate cabinet. Just for shoes. Shelves going all the way up with spotlights above each pair. Dress shoes. Sneakers. Boots. Loafers. I couldn't even count them all.

I stood there genuinely unable to process how one man needed this many shoes.

I closed the wardrobe and turned around.

That was when I noticed it.

On the table by the window there was a chess set.

I walked over slowly.

Every piece was made from black and gold marble. Heavy. Expensive. The board itself was dark polished stone

. But what made me stop completely was the king piece.

I picked it up and looked at it closely.

It was him.

Someone had carved his face into the marble. Sharp jaw. That same cold expression he always wore.

Even in chess form this man looked like he was daring you to try him.

I looked at the other pieces.

The queen had no face. Neither did the bishops. The knights. The pawns. Every single piece on that board was faceless except one.

The king.

Just him. Alone at the top. Everyone else beneath him and nobody beside him worth carving a face for.

I laughed.

Actually laughed.

This man really thought he was the prize. He had literally made a chess set with his own face on it and left everyone else blank.

But then I looked at it again and the laugh died slowly.

It wasn't funny anymore.

It was actually terrifying.

This was the mind of the man keeping me here. A man who looked at the world and saw himself as the only person worth recognizing. Everyone else was just a piece on his board.

That was when I heard it.

A woman's giggle. Coming from outside the door.

I didn't think. I just moved back to the bed, sat down, tried to look like I had been sitting there the whole time.

The door opened.

He walked in first. Jeans. Black t-shirt. Hair slightly damp and messy like he had just come from the shower. He looked casual.

Behind him was a woman.

She was stunning. I haven't seen a woman as pretty like her in a long time. Long dark hair falling past her shoulders in thick waves. Warm skin. Brown eyes that caught the light. A delicate gold necklace sitting at her collarbone. Small gold hoops in her ears.

She wore a red off shoulder dress. Short. Fitted at the waist then flaring slightly at the hem. Her shoulders bare. Her collarbone exposed. Everything about her screamed expensive.

She walked in like she had been here before.

She didn't look at me.

Not a glance. I was sitting right there on his bed and to her I was as significant as the furniture. She walked past me like I was part of the wall and turned her attention back to him.

She looked around the room like she was observing the room.

"Nothing here has changed. still the same boring old Saint". she laughed. Her voice was soft.

He was silent.

His eyes found me immediately.

Then they dropped to my hand.

I looked down.

The king piece.

I was still holding the king piece.

F**k.

"Why the f**k are you holding my chess piece." His voice filled the room instantly.

His forehead creased. Eyes darkening.

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"You need to learn your place." He moved closer. Each step slow and intentional.

"You don't touch things I don't allow you to touch. You don't go places I don't allow you to go. You don't even breathe unless I want you to."

He stopped in front of me.

"I f**king own you."

My whole body went cold.

"And you are going to learn that there are consequences for disobedience."

He turned his head and looked at the woman behind him.

"Strip, Lisa."

The word landed flat. No warmth. No desire. Just an instruction the way you would tell someone to open a door or pull up a chair.

He turned back to me.

"And you—" his eyes found me and stayed there. "Are going to watch every f**king thing I do to her."