Saint:A Dark Mafia Romance(6)

By: Aubrey Irons

I push my way towards the bar to grab a drink while I wait for Mikhail, the Russian representative, to show up. After that, we can head to the back room to have this stupid meeting with Anton’s guys.

I frown as this bubbly blonde girl with pink streaks in her hair careens into me, giggling as she spills beer all over my boot.

“Oh my God, I love your jacket!” she gushes.

Run along, little girl.

“Where did you get it?”

I frown. “A store.”

She laughs. “Which store, sill-”

“Excuse me, I’m meeting someone.”

I physically push her aside, ignoring the huffing sound she makes as I stalk towards the bar.

And that’s when I spot her.


She’s gorgeous, in this fragile, delicate way.



My eyes narrow across the dark room at her, feeling my pulse quicken and my jaw tighten as I take her in. She’s out of place, and innocent-looking in a way that places like this devour.

Blood thunders in my ear as I drink her in.

Dark hair cascading over her shoulders, curves in the very best places, and soft, pouty lips that brush against the mouth of the lucky fucking beer bottle in her hand. She’s got the leather jacket, the tiny, flirty skirt, and the biker-style boots, but she’s not the kind of girl that comes to places like this, I can tell just by looking at her.

And I am very good at reading people like this.

The thing is, she’s trying too hard, like she’s attempting to impress someone, even though I can’t imagine a single dipshit here she should be wasting her time trying to impress.

Someone knocks into me from behind, and I growl as I whirl.

“Hey bro.” The blonde kid is making I’m sure what he thinks is his best “tough guy” face. And I’m sure he thinks having two friends giving me the same look behind him is intimidating.

It’s not.

“Can I help you?”

“How about an apology?”


I give him a once-over, my face neutral but grinning on the inside at his skinny hipster jeans and the tattoo of a fucking owl on his forearm, which I’m sure literally means nothing.

This should be interesting.

“For pushing my girl, buddy. She asked you a simple question. No one asked you to put your hands on her.”

I level my gaze at him. “That was me asking her to move. Trust me, if I put my hands on her, she’d have a hard time forgetting it.”

His eyes narrow at me, his lip curling.

Oh, this should definitely be fun.

“You looking for some trouble, buddy?” He spits.

“Why, have you seen any?”

He bristles, clearly realizing I don’t consider him a threat.

“Bro, there are three of us, just so you fuckin’ know.”

I smile. “Great. Now go find two more and we’ll call it an even fight.”

He laughs. “You want me to find two guys to fight for you?”

“For you.”

He scowls, and even though I wish I could keep this up, this isn’t the night for getting into it with hipster college douchebags. This is a work night.

I’m turning, deciding to ignore him and his little friends, when I feel the hand on me.

I bristle.

“Hey asshole, I’m not done talking-”

He freezes as I open my jacket and flash what’s hanging in a holster at my side. It’s a stupid move, but honestly, I’m fucking tired of talking to this prick.

“Whoa, dude.” His whole look changes as he and his friends suddenly step back, blinking at me with wide eyes.

“Look, man, we just-”


They jump about a foot off the ground, and I grin as they suddenly push their way through the crowd toward the door.

I shake my head.

Now where the fuck is-

I whirl when I feel the hand on my arm, my hand closing into a fist before I freeze.

It’s her. The out of place girl. The too-innocent, too-wide-eyed, too-appetizing girl.

“Uh, hey.” She tries to say it casually, but I can sense the tremor in her voice.

She’s scared of me.

She should be.

“Yes?” I growl, holding her eyes firmly with my own.


And before I can say a single thing - before I can even open my mouth actually - she’s reaching up, grabbing my shirt, yanking me down, and kissing me.

And hell if the whole place, this whole shitty night, and damn near the whole rest of the world doesn’t just fade away. Damn if I don’t lose my place in fucking time in that moment.

I’m surprised for about half a second before instinct kicks in.

Fuck it.

I kiss her back, and she’s sure as hell not expecting it, I can tell. And I don’t know what her plan was, but this is me running with it as I grab her tight against me and claim those lips with mine.

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