Page 108 of Savage Saint

“The product comes from you.” Jameson scratches his jaw, but I see it: the interest. He knows this is a deal we won’t see anywhere else, not this easily. “Then done. I see no issue for the club.”

Easy. No bullshit. Simple business.

The De Leons have no desire to step on the club’s toes, and we have no desire to step on theirs.

Both sides are aware and agree; I’m the middleman. All the guns bought from them move through the D.R. ports, and the percentages are fair for Jameson and the Royal Bastards as a whole.

Everyone gets paid.

Jameson looks at me, his head nodding. “You good?”

“Yes.”

“Then run it.”

Thiago tips the glass in his hands toward the camera. “Good doing business, godbrother.”

Ivan, for his part, just smirks. “By the way, your mother said to call her.”

Then the call ends. I’ll be seeing them soon enough to work out logistics, delivery, and who the buyer is. This sale already has a destination, a guerrilla group out in the rainforest in South America. They usually deal with Thiago, but he’s busy trying to get his wife pregnant again.

“Why am I not surprised Lorena sent you that message in the middle of a weapons deal?”

I snort and give him a look. “Because you know her.”

“She never changes.” Jameson throws his head back and laughs, clapping me on the shoulder as he walks toward the door. “Come on. Let’s have a few drinks. You haven’t been here in a while, and we need to celebrate this⁠—”

The sharp ringing of my phone cuts him off. For as long as he’s known me, Jameson is aware of my rule.

If I’m away from my territory, you call me from a specific phone if there’s an emergency.

The call drops. Then starts again.

It does this three times, signaling how severe the issue is.

The name on the screen is Trojan’s, and I immediately answer.

“Speak.” Nothing for one full, long second. That amps up my worry. “Trojan, what the hell is going on?”

“Fuck, Saint. Genesis is gone.”

My hand tightens around the phone. Everything around me stops and stills. “What did you just say?”

Jameson turns toward me, but I don’t feel the room anymore. Don’t hear the music blasting down the hall. It’s turned into this low, garbled mess I can’t decipher. Everything’s becoming background noise to the rush of blood pumping in my veins.

His hand on my shoulder squeezes, and I meet his eyes. “What can I do, brother?”

“Tell Rizos to come.” Then I exhale roughly, running a hand down my face. Her kidnapping changes everything. “I need a jet, Jameson. That, and a judge to sign some paperwork within the next hour.”

“Done.” He walks out to make it happen. I don’t ask how, but I’m left inside his office as Trojan explains how Cano lost visual on her after a blow to the head. They found her keys on the ground and a sandal.

“The cameras? Did you pull the feed?”

“Yes, and you’re not going to like it.”

I close my eyes, fighting to remain calm because Genesis doesn’t need a loose cannon. Am I a psychopath? Yes, but an intelligent one, and going in blind isn’t my style. Moreover, retribution will be brutal.

They fucked with the wrong person. My person.