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REYNA

I watched the men, all of them speaking to one another like the best of friends

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I watched the men, all of them speaking to one another like the best of friends. However, I could feel the tension in their every word. They impersonated being allies, but I knew that they were only keeping their adversaries close. I've heard their conversations about one another. All of them were threatened by the power of the other. All of them were waiting for the moment to attack so they could claim the throne. All of them cared about no one other than themselves.

It was hard not to stare at the men for too long. I knew everything they did. I knew everything they were capable of. All of their secrets were stored in my brain, and my brain made sure to remind me of them. It was whispering the thing these men wanted no soul to hear.

All of their victims were playing out in my mind over and over again like a song I just couldn't get out of my head. The men at the table killed people, kidnapped people, did harsh things like pouring acid on the innocent, and forcing their victims to drink poison that will kill them slowly and painfully. And I was there... right in front of them.

I was arms length away from the hands that murdered without remorse. Even though I tried to keep a smile on my face, the screams of people whose lives were mercilessly taken echoed over the men's laughs. Every time I saw them take a drink, the poison that lingered in their victims throats almost burned through mine. Every drag of the cigar, filled my lungs with the intoxicating smoke from the fire they lit that killed each of their prey.

I was surrounded by inhuman savages, and the worst part was pretending like I had no clue.

Saint gripped my wrist. A wrist that I hadn't realized was shaking until he touched me. I turned to look at him, but he was staring out in front of him like he hadn't just grabbed me.

I sighed as I looked away, trying not to look at all of the mobsters in front of me.

"So, Saint..." Dante began. Saint's harsh hold on me grew tighter. I was sure that if he didn't loosen up his grip, he'd break my wrist.

"I thought you would be marrying Cecilia," he said.

I glanced at Saint, wondering what was going through his mind. He didn't seem to like the girl much. Then again, he didn't really like anyone. It just never would occur to me that someone like Cecilia is the girl he would marry.

"I have time to decide," Saint responded dismissively. Dante leaned forward on the table, his elbows resting on the table cloth, and his hands folded underneath his chin. His eyes of hazel were dominantly staring into Saint's. It was like he was asserting his power, and I could feel it.

"And what about the girl you have now?" Dante asked as if I wasn't sitting right there.

"You're in my business. Why?" Saint question, a sarcastic smile rising onto his face. I could tell Saint was trying his best to contain his anger, and the only reason I knew that was because of how tightly he was holding onto me.

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