Page 98 of Savage Saint

“Okay, how about just one?”

“Rodriguez, I’d like to keep things civil and with respect, even if some people like to talk behind others’ backs.” Then I give him my most saccharine, innocent grin. “Okay.”

The smile falls from his face while Katia bites her bottom lip, fighting back a laugh.

Still all points for me. Alvin gets a big fat zero.

Much better.

24

SAINT

Genesis is asleep beside me when my phone rings. I pick it up before it can wake her; she’s worked two doubles this week and needs rest.

Especially after I ate her little cunt on my sofa, made her ride my tongue while some movie about vampires played on the TV. She bucked and cried, tried to pull away after her second orgasm, but I controlled those thick hips.

Kept it nice and slow until her juices dripped and she begged me to stop. Only then did I put her to bed.

“Wait,” I say instead of a greeting, slipping from beside her naked body and exiting the room. There’s a pair of discarded lounge pants thrown over the back of the couch from earlier today, and I slip them on before heading outside.

It’s cool tonight. The scent of petrichor is heavy in the air as another rainstorm looms over the island. Lightning cracks as I stand looking out over my backyard.

“Speak.”

“I think I found the network, Saint.” Trojan’s voice comes through the line, the distinct clacking of keys in the background. “Kirill’s in Santo Domingo. He’s in the background of the local newspaper publication at a foundation gala. All three men were there, tumbler in hand and celebrating.”

“What kind of foundation?” I ask, already knowing I won’t like the answer.

“The program claims to work with young women ages eighteen to twenty-five.” He pauses, then types some more. “Their mission statement says it’s to provide education, training, and job opportunities to young women in lower-income communities across the Dominican Republic and Latin America.” A beat of silence follows. “Hijos de puta.”

“What did you find?”

“One of the programs they offer is job opportunities overseas in Europe. Eastern Europe, to be exact.”

“They’re trying to traffic through the foundation.”

“Not the first time. I did a quick Google search, and they operate in a few countries, but the main hub is in Argentina.”

“Check for Venezuela, too. Any country in Central and South America where there’s been an increase in missing women. Do they have offices there?”

“On it, Presidente.” He’s quiet for a moment again, but this one feels different. Thinking. Exhales roughly. “I’m not one to get involved in other people’s private lives, Saint, but Janelle’s a problem. She’s asking too many questions.”

Questions. That’s the first red flag in a traitor. They ask, dig, and gather until they have enough to hang themselves or you.

I’m done feeding her the rope.

“What’s she asking?”

“It started with Roni, who you know can’t stand her.” True. Roni’s beat her ass twice now, and both times Trino was involved. “She wants info on nurse Romero, and when Roni shut her down, she tried Maria. That also failed, but she’s moved on to the prospects…”

“Who broke?”

“Lucas.”

My jaw tightens. “What did he share?”

“Her job, shifts, and home. That’s it.”