Page 14 of Saint Valentine

But no matter how fast I ran, or which direction I went in, and no matter how hard I tried to keep my bearings, the garden seemed to shift around me.

To make matters worse, the rain started to fall—slow at first, then heavier. It soaked through my clothes, plastering them to my skin. The winter cold bit into my flesh until I couldn’t feel my hands or feet. Everything felt numb; my thoughts began to jumble.

“Fuck!” I cursed loudly, wiping the rain from my face. I wanted back in that room Saint had left me in. But the rain didn’t stop. The garden wouldn’t let me out.

I stopped even trying, breathing heavily. I tried to gather my thoughts and came to the conclusion that me being out there had been purposeful. Saint had let me escape so I’d get lost. I should’ve known when it seemed too easy to leave that house.

I sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me. The rain pooled around me. I clutched my knees, shivering, and stared at the ground. Now I was stuck, waiting for Saint to come and find me. Waiting for him to drag me back. That smug motherfucker had won.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady my breathing, to clear my mind. I couldn’t panic. But I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. This was insane. How could he do this to me? How could I be so fucking stupid to think it would be that easy to escape him? My father would be ashamed.

I knew Saint’s ass was probably somewhere watching, even though I couldn't find the camera's. People like him didn’t build mazes if they couldn’t enjoy the prey let loose in them. He was probably looking out from a window in his house.

I exploded, jumping up, my voice echoing, hoping he would hear me. “Saint!” I shouted, my hands flailing as I kicked at the bushes in frustration. “You think this shit is funny? I’ll fucking kill you!” I screamed until my throat felt raw and my chest heaved.

I collapsed back to the ground, gasping for air. I made a promise to myself then, if it was the last thing I did, I was going to fuck Saint up the first chance I got.

Chapter Six

Saint

My father was going to be a problem. I’d seen it in his eyes before I turned and walked away. But what he didn’t know was that I’d kill even him to keep Aria. His disapproval, his threats—they meant nothing. Aria wasn’t just a pawn or a bargaining chip to me. She was mine. And I’d end anybody who stood between us.

She was the only thing in this fucked-up world that ever made sense. I was self-aware enough to know that she had become more than just a memory—she had become my obsession.

But right now, none of that mattered.

I leaned back in my chair, my eyes locked on the screen as I watched her stumble through my labyrinth. The maze had been designed to break people. To let them think they had a chance before I closed in. I’d release them, let them run, and then hunt them down. It was a game I’d played many times, and I always won. And Aria was no exception.

She needed to learn the same lesson so many had. Running from me was futile.

I wished I’d been here from the beginning to see the look on her face when she realized she was trapped. By now, she’d been out there for hours, the rain soaking through her. Her clothes clung to her, outlining every curve of her body. She was shivering, andthe sight of her helpless pulled at something dark, something primal deep inside me.

I imagined chasing her. The rush of catching her, feeling her struggle beneath me.

My ball tightened as my dick grew stiff. What would it be like to fuck Aria? Thinking about it made my neck tight.

I leaned forward, a slow smile spreading across my face. My fingers drummed against the desk as I watched her. I could feel her desperation.

I could see the panic in her eyes, the way her movements were getting slower. She was so close to breaking.

Running a hand through her wet hair, she gave it a frustrated tug. Her breath came in ragged bursts. She was feeling trapped—it was crushing her.

I tightened my grip on the desk, my knuckles white. I watched her fall to her knees, hands balled into fists. Then, she screamed.

“Saint!” Her voice echoed through the maze, raw and furious. “You think you can just trap me like this? I’ll fucking kill you!”

That was cute. She was so violent now.

I leaned in, watching her kick at the bushes. Her body shook from the momentum of it. She was so determined, so defiant. Then she just stopped and plopped down.

A slow smile curledmy lips. Watching her like this, hearing the rage in her voice was entertaining. But I needed a shower. I was still wearing the clothes I'd taken her in.

I stood, stretching, and walked to the bathroom. The water was hot, almost scalding. I let it run over me, washing away last night. I didn’t rush. Aria wasn’t going anywhere.

I closed my eyes and recalled the image of her, all wet, clothes clinging to her. I wrapped my hand around my hard shaft and stroked the length a few times, then stopped myself. What was between Aria and I wasn’t entirely about sexual pleasure. I wouldn’t make it about that.

After washing, I stepped out. I dried off quickly before pulling on a fresh shirt and pants.

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