Page 58 of Saint

“Jorge.”

“I was unable to reach you directly,” he revealed, turning in my direction. “Unfortunately, I had to contact your father, who was more than willing to arrange a meeting with you, provided that he would be present.”

“Get to the point, Jorge. I have better things to consume my day,” I flushed out, thinking of Victoria. It was a weekend, and we’d made plans to spend it together after our dive. Later in the day, we would grab lunch and stop by the recreational center to see how construction was moving along.

“I took care of your little problem with the hired gun. Consider it a thank-you gift for all that you’ve done for me.” Motioning to one of his men, he waited until they handed him a brown envelope.

“This is for you, my friend.”

Taking possession of the envelope, I pulled out its contents. Pictures. Several of them revealed the tail on Victoria, photos of her being followed by the man, and finally, photos of him deceased. Swallowing, I tossed the images onto the desk.

“You’re not impressed?” Jorge asked. “Miguel, I told you it would be better to bring his head.”

The way he rattled off his “gift” as if he hadn’t created the problem in the first place crept under my skin. I shared a glance with my father, who’d gathered the images into a pile and was now burning them in his fireplace.

Unbothered, Jorge grinned. “You took care of my brother, getting him out of the way so that I could inherit the Miller distribution network and run it properly. I took care of your wife’s problem so that you could live happily ever after. We are…como se dice, even now.

Not bothering to question how he knew I was the shooter in his brother’s demise, I rose and exited the study. Quickly, I calculated the math. It didn’t take me long to accept it. My father had been in cahoots with Jorge all this time. It was the reason he’d been so riled up upon finding out I’d threatened him. Feeling my anger rise for both of the men in my presence, my best course of action was to leave my parents’ home. It was well past my time to get the hell out of there.

Planted in the comfort of my car, I released my frustration as a sigh. Despite my anger, at least Victoria was safe now. It was one less thing to be concerned about on a growing list of things concerning the woman.

Are you paying her?

The question taunted at the discovery of information also loaded into my conscience during my visit. Was the million-dollar ticket the reason why Victoria had gone all pro-Saint on my family? Was her loyalty a result of the hefty price I’d placed on our union? I wanted to believe otherwise. I wanted to believe she gave a fuck about me, but maybe it was all a farce. My hand crashed into my face as I combed my fingers down until they raked through my beard. I shouldn’t have even been having those thoughts. It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did matter. Inadvertently, the seed of doubt was sewn by my father and was rapidly taking root. Deciding not to water it further, I shook my head and switched to a different channel. One that included seaweed and killer whales. Yeah, that was much more fitting.

Powering up the car, I peeled out of my parents’ driveway and made my way back to the beach.

The Miller Community and Recreational Center was coming along wonderfully, thanks to Victoria’s assistance. We hammered out a location and were in the beginning stages of construction with contractors. There was still documentation to complete to secure the business as a 501(c)(3), but I was confident that everything would come together as it should. Though initially skeptical, as things began to unfold, I shared Victoria’s initial excitement.

As we entered the month of September, however, she scaled back on her involvement with the center in favor of working on her show. I didn’t mind. Hell, if I knew the first thing about sewing, I’d probably be up at Demure HQ working away my days to ensure her show’s success. Since that wasn’t an option, I showed up for her however I could. Sometimes, it meant bringing her lunch or dinner to the office. Sometimes it meant massaging her back or supplying mid-day dick to get her through the remainder of her workday.

Comfort,

like a warm embrace

from the sun,

it sheathed me.

I was becoming better at the charge to secure it for her in every way. I’d fallen in love with her. It hadn’t happened over the course of our time together. I was convinced it happened the day I saw her on Komodo Island, cowering under that rock with a tortoise in her hands. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the fact. Nuanced, my thoughts were considering that I’d tainted our relationship with the promise of money after a year. Victoria had a million reasons to love me, and that was problematic.

A love that mirrored me.

A love that magnified me.

A love that reminded me that I was love.

A love that said come as you are.

A love that created the bar.

A love that elevated the bar.

A love that granted me space.

A love that made me feel safe.