Governing the She-Devil

12 Unveiling

While patiently waiting for Saint to finish her bath, Sandro's laptop pinged. It was an email from a very familiar sender. He did not waste any time and opened the confidential file. It was the preliminary investigation report of the attack.

A separate folder was a timeline of Saint's activities, including her trip to the bathroom, but she never returned to the barracks. Approximately four minutes after her departure, the attack happened. For the duration of the attack, Saint was not found until they declared the base camp safe again. That was when he saw her.

He went back to searching in the first folder. He opened an interview transcript and read it. It was an account of the person who killed the bodies in the woods, based on the only surviving attacker.

Petite woman

Black wavy hair

Was wearing a cadet uniform

Did someone attack the attackers in the woods? A visual description appeared in his mind.

Sandro was confused. Wasn't it a normal attack like the previous ones? Scrolling further, he found picture evidence of the gruesome details of the attack. Every dead body had a clean cut on the neck. Blood stained the whole ground. He started to piece things together.

'The captive did not recognize the person that killed his men from the female cadets and officials.' It was a coded message that Marcus sent him.

He couldn't stop himself from looking at the morbid pictures. His heart hammered against his chest as he tried hard to push his realization aside. However, this was backed up by evidence. He walked stealthily to the bathroom and turned the knob slowly.

Saint, who put her guard down, did not notice the door opening. To her surprise, the towel wrapped around her chest fell on the floor. She quickly picked it up and covered herself with it.

Sandro stood by the door. "You have no wounds. Who are you?"

Saint was taken back by his remark. She could clearly see the coldness in his eyes. Instead of admitting it, she decided to lie against his accusation, "What are you saying? I don't understand." A few drops of tears fell from her eyes.

His breathing was heavy. He did not like watching Saint's tears fall, but he couldn't let things slide. He grabbed her hands and dragged her to his open laptop. "What is this?"

The familiar pictures made Saint shiver, not because she was scared of it, but because it might f**k her up. It was hard evidence against her. She decided not to answer him.

Sandro had enough. He ripped the towel from her body. He scanned every part of her. There were a few cuts and some discolouration, but none was enough to cause the blood that stained her clothes and skin.

Saint admitted her defeat by standing straight in front of him, not minding her nakedness. Her gushing tears came to a halt. It was now long gone. A cold stare flashed from her eyes, which made Sandro question all the things he knew about her. The Saint in front of him was a different person.

Saint grinned, but her eyes bore no emotion. It was still and cold. "I killed them."

Sandro closed the distance between them. He reached for her stoic face and caressed it. His touch was like wildfire to her icy cold skin. "Who are you?" He eyed her face carefully, trying to unlock her hidden emotions.

"I'm still your wife." A flash of innocence glimmered in her eyes. Sandro watched her sudden shift in behaviour. Gone was the cold one. The Saint beside him now is the woman he married. She was more relaxed and cheery. She showed him a bright smile—something that he admired until the image of her that he had was questioned.

Sandro could feel his temples ache. He couldn't distinguish the real from pretending—Genuity from the act.

"Why did you marry me?" That was the question that bothered him the most. There should be a reason. "Are you going to kill me? Did Eli hire you to take care of me before the election?" Words spewed out of his mouth without control.

"Sands, stop. You're hurting me," she said and pouted. Sandro was unconsciously holding her arms tightly in frustration.

"I'm not playing games with you, Sola. You were just a vicious murderer a second ago, and now you are acting like the most innocent girl on the planet. Drop your act!"

Saint looked down as she felt his intensity. He was really confused and threatened this time. She put her hand on his opposite elbow, caressing it softly. "No. I married you because my father wanted me to. I'm not going to kill you, Sands."

She suddenly felt a strong clenching feeling in her heart. It was the same feeling she had when she learned about her mother's death. She was once again brokenhearted.

"How would I know you won't end up killing me?" Dying was not a problem for Sandro, it was the feeling of betrayal that was torturing him.

Saint locked her eyes with his and pressed her soft body against his torso. She could now feel the coldness due to her nakedness. She wrapped her hands on his nape as she tiptoed to lessen their vertical distance. "Just give me the word, and I will kill Eli for you," she whispered with all the emotions that were eating her up.

She was not lying. Sandro was her queen in her game of chess. She can't lose him, even if it means killing her cousin.

Sandro's eyes softened. He settled his hand on the small of her back and pressed her closer to him. The feeling of their closeness sent tingles all over. Desire flashed before his eyes, and before she could utter a word, he crushed his lips against hers.

It was a kiss of longing, pain, and bitterness. Sandro's kiss was rough. It was punishing her. He bit her lower lip until he could taste metallic blood and suck on it. Saint did not protest. Instead, she let go of a soft moan before battling her tongue with his in sync.