Dark Saint [Romano Brotherhood, #1]

30 | Nina

I'm trembling as we make our way out of the VIP room—not because of my orgasm, the thrill of what we did in the dark, or even because we're on our way to go meet that man who was on stage.

Mantus. I'm not sure what kind of name that is; Tommaso said it means "god of hell," which I suppose fits him. 

I'm trembling because that dark, uncomfortable feeling has crystalized into a troubling cloud of unease surrounding one man.

Surrounding Santo.

I'm not sure what exactly I'm uneasy about. Gazing into his eyes, that music encasing us in a dark bubble, seeing that expression he probably hadn't meant for me to see—something felt off.

My reality is hell; I don't pretend. I just learn to blend in with the sin.

I can't stop turning those lyrics over in my head during our walk backstage. Because in that moment, I felt like I understood Santo. Even all the parts of himself he keeps hidden.

And he's good at that part, the hiding. He hasn't looked at me since that moment. 

Mantus is much more unsettling in person. He's not particularly tall or built, but he still radiates danger. He flashes a wide, almost unnatural smile at me when Santo introduces us, his teeth filled with gold and diamonds. The effect is insanely unsettling along with his eyes glinting jet black, and I can't help shrinking back.

I'm thankful for Santo's arm resting snugly over my shoulder. He only pulls away to greet Mantus, and then his arm is back around me. His posture is on alert but not in a way that suggests immediate danger. Santo trusts him, I can see that, so I try to do the same.

"Good to fucking see you guys," Mantus is still grinning after all the greetings. "Where should we discuss business?"

"Your dressing room, perhaps," Massimo suggests. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than here. 

"For sure, man. Let me just take care of something first." 

I don't even avert my eyes when we follow Mantus into his dressing room and three naked women slip past us, his eyes following them appreciatingly. I feel like nothing will surprise me at this point. Tommaso moves like he's about to start following them, hissing when Nico slaps his arm. Hard. 

"Alright!" Mantus reclines on a red velvet couch, clapping his hands together. He's ready to delve into business like he hasn't just completed a two-hour show, which might have something to do with the white powder and empty bottles strewn everywhere. 

"What's the situation here? I understand we got a problem with her fucking dad," he points recklessly at me, "moving women. And what, the Sons of Serpentine chomping at the bit to get their hands on him?"

Santo tenses. "Mant—"

"I still don't understand why you can't just sacrifice him. One of the most annoying motherfuckers out there. I know the society has rules and shit, but I just—"

"Mantus."

Silence fills the room, and it seems like nobody breathes. 

"I told you not to discuss those things in this meeting," Santo speaks in a terrifyingly calm voice, and I force myself to look at him. His head tilts infinitesimally to me, and Mantus's eyes widen. 

"In my defense, I was really high when we last talked."

Santo doesn't say a word, the anger settling like a suffocating blanket over his features. I suddenly feel embarrassed, and even though I know he wanted me to come here, he still won't look at me and I feel like I'm in the way.