Governing the She-Devil

15 Too Much Drama

Saint enjoyed talking to Train. They walked together to the office. Train's desk was right outside the mayor's office. She gave a curt nod before opening the door without knocking. She remembered her manners way too late. In front of her were Sandro and a very beautiful woman.

She cleared her throat in a panic. "I apologize, sir." With no plans to wait for his response, she went back to Train's desk and used it to support her lower back.

"Someone's inside," she said, aiming to explain her presence.

"That might be Miss Amanda Gonzales." Train answered casually and checked the appointment record. However, his brows knotted when he found that there were no appointments scheduled for that day. But he kept that knowledge to himself.

Hearing the name Gonzales startled Saint. The Gonzaleses were known for their influence in the business and media industries. Her father was also closely knitted with that family.

"Do they work together?" she asked absentmindedly, sucking on her lollies.

"Not really. Miss Amanda visits Mayor Sandro now and then. They grew fond of each other years ago when Miss Amanda decided to stay in Aslo for good."

Saint nodded her head slowly. She took a couple of lollies from her pocket and gave them to Train, who thanked her in return. She walked back to the cafeteria and stared at the homemade meal in front of her. Her tummy rumbled in the delight at smelling various delicacies.

She held her tray firmly and pointed at everything she wanted to try—half a bucket of fried chicken, corndogs, a slice of cheesecake, and a bottle of soda.

Looking around the available tables, Saint found a secluded spot. She sat there and placed her food on the table carefully. She walked towards the nearby faucet and washed her hands. Once back at her spot, she took a handful of chicken and bit it directly.

Saint continued eating with her hands. She didn't even notice the eyes looking at her. She was that hungry. In the middle of stuffing her mouth with a chicken leg, her phone rang.

Using a piece of tissue paper on her tray, she wiped her hand before answering the call. However, her greasy hands left an imprint on her phone screen.

"Yes, Maze?" she asked before she continued eating her food.

"I know that you really don't care at all, but Eli was beaten to death. Stories said that he was driving down the outskirts and was stopped by a mob. They claimed that someone ordered them."

Saint ended the call abruptly and stuffed the remainder of her food inside the chicken bucket. "I'll eat this while driving." She ran towards the car and sped to the place she knew where her friends would be.

In a short period of time, Saint reached a high tower. The place was luxurious. Everything you see was made of gold and red velvet. From her peripheral, she saw Lilith playing poker dice. The casino was packed with people. She suddenly felt underdressed.

"Hey, S," Maze ran to her. "Your dad went to the hospital. Eli looks really bad." Maze handed her a tablet showing a blurry video of someone getting beat up right outside the corner of the octagon.

"He's still alive?" She asked after barely glancing at the video.

Maze looked at her with a baffled expression, not expecting her response. "You told me that he was beaten to death, yet he's still alive and recovering at the hospital."

"Well, almost. He almost died," Maze answered with an awkward smirk. Saint rolled her eyes and sat on a bar stool.

"Who ordered the attack?"

"Sandro Bardin."

The very next day, all media outlets used the headline, 'Mayor Sandro Bardin, an expected governor candidate, ordered a killing against upcoming opposing candidate Eli Santiago.'

Saint clenched her hand as she watched the news online. Eli released a statement that blamed Sandro for the attack. "You should've died instead, asshole," she mumbled before taking another hit on her cigarette.

"I thought that the rumors about you being a chain smoker weren't true. I should've given you more credit." A woman in an all-white dress talked.

Saint casually looked around and found no one aside from them. She closed her phone and put it inside her pocket. "You talking to me?"

The woman's bright red lips stretched into a smile. Saint tried remembering if they had met before, but all efforts were in vain.

"Of course, silly. I heard that you married Sandro." The woman removed her oversized glasses and put them atop her head. She really looked familiar.

"You're really good at hearing, aren't you? Care to remind me where I knew you from?" Saint asked in a respectful manner.

The woman giggled as if she said something funny. "I'm sorry. I'm Amanda Gonazales, please call me Amanda." Amanda reached her hand out for a handshake.

Saint eyed her hand before taking it. It was only then she remembered who this woman was. She was the woman who Train told her that visited Sandro often.

"I am Saint—"

Her introduction was cut off when Amanda said the next words for her, "Sola Fonseca."

Tingles went up to Saint's spine. The woman appeared to be charming and elegant, but she felt a looming threat behind that innocent face. She shook off the thought and offered a stick of cigarette. "Want one?"

"Oh no, no, thank you. I don't smoke. Sandro doesn't like cigarettes and alcohol. He looks out for his health, and I happen to adapt his practice, especially as we spent college together." Amanda's eyes were filled with pride as she talked about how long her relationship went with Sandro.

"What a bummer. Then why come to the smoking area?" Saint pointed at the poster in front of them. She went out of the city hall to have a smoke break and to check the issue as well. That was what she was doing until Amanda came.

Amanda's face paled, and her smile turned awkward. "Well, uhm, I remembered you from yesterday. I came to say hello."

Saint puffed another smoke into thin air before crushing it on the ashtray. "Well, now that you have accomplished your purpose, I shall take my leave. The boss can't fight for his safety. What a p***y, right?"

She did not wait for a response and clicked her heel away from the place. Amanda's face turned sour.