Fallen Saint (All the Pretty Things Trilogy Volume 2)

by Monica James

  “I’m not a bargaining chip,” I spit, refusing to let this go. “Accepting payment was your choice. No one forced your hand.”

  Alek opens his mouth but closes it soon after. He focuses on driving instead of engaging in an argument I will never back down from, which surprises me. He could punish me for my insolence, but he doesn’t.

  I don’t care what he says; nothing will ever excuse what he did. Yes, Drew is also the villain in this story, but Alek could have said no. Yet he saw this as an opportunity to accumulate another pretty thing for his collection.

  When we pull into an older part of town, I realize that the business will be taking place at the orphanage. I thought it would be over lunch in a restaurant, but it appears Alek likes to keep me guessing.

  He parks the car in front of a large white building. Although longstanding, it radiates sincerity and strength. Tall brick walls wrap around the premises, allowing privacy and safety for the children inside.

  I now understand why Alek drove here without any backup. This place is hardly dangerous. But not only that, it also isn’t the appropriate place for his men in black. It would scare the children, and they have had enough fear in their lives.

  We walk toward the steel gate, where Alek presses the intercom. Someone speaks to him in Russian, laughing at something he says in a low, flirty voice. The gate then opens.

  I can’t stop my eye roll. How can someone be so smooth? He’s a murderer, liar, not to mention a drug lord, yet he has all these people fawning over him. It’s sickening. His charisma knows no bounds.

  Children of all ages laugh and scream as they play ball games and tag behind a silver fence. When they see us, the commotion stops, and they run toward their prison bars, looping their tiny fingers through the wire. It brings tears to my eyes as they watch us in hope. Is today their day?

  Alek waves to them kindly, saying something in Russian. The nuns shoo the children away from the fence, encouraging them to continue with their games.

  The place reeks of sadness but also hope. A perfect oxymoron.

  I follow Alek as he walks toward the ramp leading to the double white doors. An older lady with kind green eyes in a full habit waits for us, smiling broadly. When we are feet away, she speaks in Russian.

  “English, if you don’t mind, Mother Superior. This is Willow. She has yet to learn our language.”

  Mother Superior nods with a smile. “Of course. It is nice to meet you,” she says in broken English, but I appreciate her effort.

  “You too, Mother Superior. Thank you for having me.”

  “Any friend of Aleksei is a friend of mine. Please, won’t you come inside.” She gestures we’re to enter. Alek signals for me to go first, so I do.

  The interior matches the exterior. Although old, it’s not impoverished or dirty. It’s bright and filled with colorful pictures painted by the children. Mother Superior leads us down the hallway where I look into the windowed doors of the children’s rooms.

  Painted in pretty pastels and filled with toys and well-made beds, it appears each room holds four children. As we advance farther, I see the nurseries, which hold about twenty or so newborn babies. Nuns rock the crying children or feed them a bottle. They are so tiny. So helpless.

  Alek waves at the nuns through the glass, who smile and return the gesture.

  I suddenly feel so…sad. So out of sorts. How can someone like Alek who inflicts so much pain also be able to show such humility? It doesn’t make any sense. But it’s clear the nuns, who are pure and only wanting to do good, are happy to see Alek.

  I feel sick to my stomach as my world is once again tipped on its side.

  Mother Superior opens the door to her small office and welcomes us in. “I am so happy to see you, Aleksei. How have you been?”

  “Good, Mother Superior. Always busy, but good.”

  We take a seat in front of her desk, waiting for her to speak.

  “I wanted to thank you for your latest donation. It was—”

  But Alek stops her with a sharp shake of his head. He doesn’t want gratitude. “Please, let’s not talk about that. Tell me how the kids are doing.”

  “Considering their circumstances and where they are, they are as good as good can be. We’ve been able to add many books to the library as well as purchase new toys. Did you notice we painted?”

  Alek nods. “I did. It looks wonderful. How are the adoptions going?”

  “Slow,” she confesses. “But it’s God’s will. We have to trust Him as He has a plan for everyone.” I notice her gaze drifts to the cross around my neck, similar to the one which hangs over her habit.

  “Willow’s father was a religious man,” Alek explains. “A minister in America.”

  Mother Superior smiles. “What brings you here?”

  I’m expecting Alek to answer for me, as he wouldn’t want me to spoil his reputation, but he doesn’t. He sits back and awaits my answer.

  “I—” I clear my raspy throat. “I’m here, helping a friend.” Not entirely untrue.

  “Well, thank you for visiting us. Aleksei is a wonderful man. This place wouldn’t exist without him.”

  I don’t know what to say as I wonder if Mother Superior’s attitude would be different if she knew who Alek really was. But maybe she already does? It’s a small sacrifice to turn a blind eye to where Alek’s money is coming from as long as it’s for the greater good.

  However, in this circumstance, do two wrongs make a right?

  It’s a question for God.

  But when a young nun pops her head around the doorway, declaring lunch is served, my questions will have to wait.

  After we had lunch with the nuns and the kids at the orphanage, we bid them farewell. The kids seemed to know Alek well, and after watching him interact with them, I couldn’t help but feel something other than hatred toward him.

  He wasn’t acting. His feelings were sincere. He spoke to them and even played ball. I stood watching, unsure what to make of all this. Hating him when he’s a monster is easy, but when that mask slipped, I saw something I never thought Alek was.

  A human being.

  His childhood was the reason he threw millions of dollars into this place. He said he knew what it felt like to be unloved and hungry. But with his profession, does he not realize that by dealing drugs, he is inadvertently destroying the lives of children outside these walls? Or he may even be the reason some were in there in the first place.

  My moral compass is screwed. It can’t choose which way is north anymore.

  Needing a moment to process today, I was silent on the way back to Alek’s. However, when something popped and our chariot veered to the left, it seemed we needed a detour. A tire had blown, leaving us sitting in a tow truck on the way to some Ferrari dealership to have it replaced.

  Alek knows the driver, and they’re speaking fluent Russian, but I don’t mind. I don’t have the energy to make small talk. We pull into an industrial area and head for the enormous Ferrari workshop. Alek hasn’t pressed, but he knows something is on my mind.

  The driver parks the truck and goes about unhooking Alek’s car and pushing it into the garage. “I’m sorry we had to take a detour. My mechanic said it wasn’t as easy as just changing the tire. He wants to make sure no damage was done mechanically.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I hope it won’t take too long,” he replies, exiting the truck and offering his hand to help me down. I can’t bear to touch him right now, so I shuffle along the seat and hold the doorframe as support to jump down.

  He steps back, allowing me the space I need. I know I’m testing his patience, but I can’t pretend.

  A man in oiled jean overalls walks over to us, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. Alek and he speak for a few moments before Alek translates. “He thinks it should only take about forty-five minutes. There is a lounge if you’d like to wait in there.”

  Alek, being the control freak that he is, clearly wants to oversee the repairs. Or maybe he
is giving me the space I need. Scoffing, I eradicate that thought because Alek doesn’t do anything unless it benefits himself.

  “May I use the bathroom?”

  The man must understand me because he points at an isolated building behind the garage with a smile.

  “Спасибо.”

  Alek’s mouth parts, revealing his surprise that I just thanked the man in Russian.

  I don’t stick around for any praise, however, and make a quick dash for the restrooms. The moment I’m inside, I lock the door and lean up against it, taking three deep breaths. My heart beats wildly, and I’m shaking uncontrollably.

  I don’t know what’s come over me.

  I catch my breath and decide to use the toilet while in here even though it was just an excuse to escape. The cubical is small, but the confinement helps calm my nerves. Once I’m done, I wash my hands and peer at my reflection in the mirror above the basin.

  Today has shifted something inside me, and I don’t like it. Everything was clear-cut. Take Alek down, ensure he pays for what he’s done, and leave this country with my freedom in hand. But now, I can’t stop thinking about the faces of those unfortunate orphans and the impact that will have on them.

  If I end his life, I will inadvertently be ending theirs too because Mother Superior hinted that Alek’s generous donations keep the orphanage afloat. If they stop, then the work they do will be hindered, and hundreds of children will suffer because of the vengeance of one.

  It’s not fair…to any of us. I’m stuck at a moral crossroad once again.

  A sharp knock sounds on the door, hinting that another customer needs to use the amenities. I splash some water onto my flustered cheeks, hoping to wash away some of this remorse I feel. Another knock follows, more desperate this time.

  “Just a minute!” I call out, quickly drying my hands on the paper towels.

  The person at the door is clearly desperate as the knocking grows more frantic. Not wanting to impede their call of nature, I quickly unlock the door and am about to apologize, but a hooded figure bursts through the door, pushing me back inside.

  Panic overcomes me.

  It happens so quickly, I don’t have time to process what’s happening. However, my fight or flight suddenly takes over, and I make a mad dash for the exit, desperate to flee. But when the cloaked figure slowly removes the hood from his head, revealing their identity, I stagger backward, blinking frantically.

  It can’t be…

  “Aнгел.”

  “S-Saint?” My brain can’t seem to accept the fact that he’s here, he’s really here, and plays it off as some cruel trick. It wouldn’t be the first time. However, when he advances forward and passionately presses me into his chest, I know this is really happening.

  “Oh, my god,” I cry, unable to stop the tears when I breathe in his scent. “You’re really here?”

  “Yes, I’m really here,” he confirms, pressing his lips to the top of my head. “I had to see you again. Even if for just a moment.”

  I want to say so many things, but I can’t. Words escape me, so I simply feel. We hug one another so tight, I can barely breathe, but it’s still not close enough. I can’t get enough of him, and I bury myself deeper.

  “Are you all right?” he asks, frantically stroking over my hair before cradling the back of my neck.

  “I am now,” I whisper, squeezing him tightly. “How did you know where I was?”

  “I’m the reason the tire blew.” I don’t care how he made that happen; I’m just so glad he’s here. “Has he hurt you?”

  “No,” I reply, inhaling deeply as I can’t get enough of his scent. “Are we leaving now?”

  Saint gently breaks our connection so he can look at me. His chartreuse eyes spark to life, and I sizzle under the intensity. I wish I could look at him forever, but I know we’re on a deadline. “No, not yet. I don’t have a solid plan, and I won’t risk your safety that way.”

  I can’t hide my disappointment.

  “Hey,” he says, cupping my cheek. I instantly melt into his touch. “I promise, soon.”

  “When?”

  “The night of the masquerade. I’m working through the finer details, but soon, I’ll have everything organized.”

  “What organized?” I place my hand over his.

  He inhales deeply. “Alek has really pissed off Oscar.”

  “What?” I almost lose my footing as I sway backward a step. I’m shocked to discover he’s in contact with that monster. “You know what happened?”

  Saint’s jaw clenches as he exhales steadily. “Yes. That motherfucker is lucky I didn’t kill him for what he did to you. But I made sure he knows not to touch you again.”

  “What did you do?” I gulp.

  “Just gave him a taste of his own medicine,” he honestly states, which means he beat him within an inch of his life. “I’m so sorry he hurt you.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Yes, it is. But I need him for this plan to succeed.”

  I arch a brow. “I don’t like the sound of this. Oscar can’t be trusted.”

  Saint sighs, running a hand through his mussed hair. “I know, but he is the key to getting you out of there.”

  “And what does he get in return?” I hate to think what his payment will be in exchange for helping us.

  “You let me worry about that. I will use him to get into the house undetected. I will be his plus one,” he explains while I pale. “He isn’t happy with Alek coming into his house and disrespecting him and is more than happy to see him pay.”

  “He didn’t disrespect him,” I argue angrily. “He saved me from being raped and god knows what else.”

  Saint’s dark brow arches as he cocks his head to the side. “Saved you?”

  I quickly backpedal when I realize what I’ve just said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Then how did you mean it?” he counters, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Because you still remember he’s the reason for all of this, right?”

  “Don’t patronize me,” I snap. “Of course, I do. I am just stating the facts. If it weren’t for him coming to Oscar’s house, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

  Something changes in Saint. “There are no redeeming qualities about that man. Don’t ever forget that. He came to your rescue because he sees you as nothing but property. Do you know what he did to Ingrid?”

  I shake my head as I don’t know the full story.

  “He saw an innocence in her which he had to pollute. He charmed her behind Oscar’s back. And when she fell under his spell and he had his way with her, he discarded her, just as he does with the others every single time he grows bored.”

  I can’t forget the look in Ingrid’s eyes, however, and the fact Alek claimed he cared for her. She didn’t look at him with repulsion. She looked at him with a lover’s gaze.

  “Don’t fall for his bullshit. He will do the same with you once he’s grown tired.” There is a desperation to Saint’s tone.

  I don’t like it. I want to leave. Now.

  “Why can’t we go now? Alek is distracted. We can make a break for it and not look back.” I beseech he sees reason in my plan. But he doesn’t.

  “No,” he exclaims, clenching his fists. “He has to pay for what he’s done.”

  The room suddenly grows cold, and I have the urge to rub the chill from my bones. “By pay, you mean…k-kill him?”

  “Yes. There is no other way.” He doesn’t miss a beat in his emotionless reply.

  I knew it would come to this, but the thought sits heavily in my stomach. It shouldn’t, but it does. “What about the kids in the orphanage? They rely on him for—”

  Saint hisses sharply before stalking toward me. He grips my cheeks in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Never forget where that money comes from. How many lives has he destroyed?”

  “I know, but can’t we just leave? I am so sick of…death and vengeance. It’s all I’ve been surrounded with.
I just want to forget.”

  His manner softens as he strokes the apple of my cheek with his thumb. “And you will. But I have to do this. Please understand.”

  “So this isn’t just about my freedom. It’s about revenge as well.”

  Saint averts his gaze, which is all the answer I need. “Please, trust me. I will atone for my sins for the remainder of my life, but I will never be able to rest until he gets what he deserves.”

  There is no compromise. This is set in stone. To attain my freedom, Alek has to die. An eye for an eye— but how can I live with myself knowing someone had to die to set me free?

  I want to say so many things, but there is no changing Saint’s mind. The night of the masquerade ball, he will make sure Alek pays for his crimes with more bloodshed and more pain. I don’t know how, and maybe it’s better he keeps me in the dark.

  “I’m doing this for you. For the both of you.” Regardless of what Zoey has done, Saint will avenge her.

  Unexpected tears arise, but Saint shakes his head, wiping them away. “Don’t cry. This will all be over soon. I promise.”

  I open my mouth, but Saint swoops forward and passionately claims my lips with his. He kisses me with a force so wild, he steals the air from my lungs. But who needs air when I’ve got this? I thread my fingers through his long hair, pulling his face toward me.

  He groans into my mouth, lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist. He walks us backward until my back hits the wall. A whoosh of air escapes me, but his aggression is exactly what I need to feel alive. Our tongues contest, but each flick of his has me whimpering, turning into mush.

  He suckles my bottom lip as he cups the back of my head, angling me so he can dominate every inch of me. Our kisses have always been filled with passion and need, but an urgency to this embrace has me holding him tightly in fear he will fade away.

  His thicker beard strokes me, the coarseness setting my senses alight. I’m straddling the line between pleasure and pain, but with Saint, the two seem to go hand in hand. He rubs against me, growling when I gasp.

  I want him with every inch of my body, and my pearled nipples pressing against his hardened chest attest to my needs.