Son of Saint (The Savage Heirs #1) Read Online Ruby Vincent

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Savage Heirs Series by Ruby Vincent
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 154882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 620(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
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I stood there long after Bane and Sienna grabbed mats and went out the back. So long I was roused by a tap on the shoulder.

“Let’s do this, mon chéri,” Sunny said. “We have to leave before it gets dark.”

“You’re really leaving me here?”

A crooked smile graced his handsome face. All traces of the angry, passionate Sole gone. “This is the safest place in the world—second only to the compound. Bane won’t let anything happen to you.”

I bit my lip, penning in a silly response. That’s not what I mean, Sunny. I meant, are you really going to leave me here... without you?

“I know he won’t,” I replied with the sane, non-clingy response. “Ready when you are.”

Sunny and I pushed the limits of sunlight, going over every member of his crew from their weaknesses, their strengths, their habits, and the little things only Sunny would know. Through the entire conversation, only one thing surprised me.

“Your crew is half women?”

He clutched his chest like my surprise offended him. “I’m an equal opportunity employer, Angel. If my sweet, sainted mother has taught me anything, it’s that ladies can fillet a dude just as well as any man.”

“Then why are you called the Sons of Saint?”

“’Cause the People of Saint didn’t have the same ring to it.”

I inclined my head. “I’ll give you that.”

Genny stuck her head in. “Sunny, smooch her goodbye and move your ass. I’m leaving in five minutes whether you’re behind me or not.”

Sunny, of course, obeyed her and kissed me on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

My chest fluttered under the impression his lips left behind. Would I go so far as to call it poison? I don’t know. What did you call it when someone burrowed so deep inside, your heart raced, pulse jumped, and breath quickened under their command?

“Tomorrow.”

After they left, I went out back to watch Bane and Sienna spar.

“Right in the palm, as hard as you can.”

Sienna didn’t hold back. She reeled her elbow and struck, striking his hand dead center.

“Nice.” Bane shook out his wrist, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “You’re a natural. Perfect stance, strong follow-through. How does a ho learn to fight like that on the streets? Did your pimp teach you a few moves to fight off the choky johns?”

“What did you say?!” I propelled off the deck, flying at him. “Fucking asshole!”

“Wait—”

“Sis, no!”

I jumped and Sienna caught me, hauling me back. My punch swung inches from his nose. “Don’t you ever speak to her that way!”

“Kenzie, it’s okay.” She forced me to look at her. “Bane didn’t mean it. He was teaching me. It’s all for the act.” She had to repeat it twice for it to penetrate.

“The act? What are you talking about?”

Bane poked his head over her shoulder. “Apologies. That was confusing to walk into without a heads-up. To pull this off, it’s not just knowing how to fight. It’s about the right attitude.”

My chest heaved, pumped by the residual need to punch his face in. “How does calling my sister a whore teach her the right attitude?”

“Like I said, I believe you’re both strong, tough women, but you’re not dealing with everyday assholes. Those guys are law-abiding. They know the limit, and for their own sake, they don’t go past it. The world you’re in now doesn’t know rules or consequences.

“There’s only so much I can teach you. You’re not going to become different people overnight. The best actors can fake it, but they draw on something to get them in the mind of their character, so this is what you do.” Bane cupped my cheeks, beating back my flash of surprise as the intensity in his gaze burned me. “Think of that guy who bumps into you on the street, knocks your bag on the ground, then keeps walking without an apology.

“Think of the stranger you overheard saying something nasty about the Black guy sitting in the corner of the café, minding his own business. Think of the jerk who cuts you off, and mean kids in school who bullied you.”

Those events, each of them I lived, roared through my mind.

“When shit like that happens, the rage flares up and centuries of honed warrior instinct shifts you into fight mode—your fists are already balled up before you can think. But then,” Bane said, “something else interrupts. It’s the centuries of polite society distilled and drilled into your brain since you could walk. You can’t punch a racist asshole or they’ll call the cops on you. You can’t rip out that bully’s hair and break her nose against the locker, or you’ll be suspended. You can’t call that jerk who almost knocked you down a cunt-sucking asshole, or you’re the crazy lady shouting at people in the street.

“It’s that compulsion to blend in civilized society which makes you un-ball your fist, walk away, and take the high road... that’s what will give you away faster than a name slip or shifty eyes.” I tensed in his hold. “You have to go with nature, Kenzie. When your fist balls, swing. When the acid drips onto your tongue, burn everyone who dared talk back. Vito, the Sons of Saint, they’re going to test you, and if you hesitate to address disrespect, they’ll never do a thing you say. They certainly won’t see you as boss.”


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