Ane Santos Novels & Stories

I just needed to find the perfect timing to do it. “Boss, she is losing it again” Santos, my new second hand, said, entering my office. The man did not bother knocking on the door, not that he needed to, the door was wide open considering that no one, aside from him, dared approach this room to begin with.

Damon had never told her much about himself or his childhood, not like they had been doing much talking with them being barely able to get their hands off each other. “What kind of man is your boss, Santos.” “I do not think that I am in the best position to answer such question, ma’am.” “You can relax, it’s just both of us and you can call me Serena. Calling me ma’am makes me seem very old, don’t you think?” “I’m afraid that is one line I cannot cross.” “Tell me, what kind of man is your boss.” “Ruthless” Santos said simply. Serena started at the way he had said such word and then went silent.

I whispered, taking in the beauty he possessed. "Well, I'm not one of those men, you know. I'm different. I'm the god, sweetheart Hana. I don't do shit those men do." He sneered and it was mixed with confidence and disdain over the men alive on this earth. Because he thought he was superior. And he was not lying.

Clearly, the battle just now shocked her greatly as well. Another figure with white hair and gray clothes stood opposite them. It was Grandmaster Tuffin, a mid-Infinity Ranker. “Cough cough… I didn’t expect this! Santos, you’ve been hiding so well. We’ve miscalculated,” Kruz said as he coughed a few times and shook his head. Santos was a mid-Infinity Ranker and was already more than 3000 years old, but he did not show any signs of aging. However, he could still win against the two beginner Infinity Rankers, which was something Kruz never expected.

I said, and sighed, "Where the hell is Santos? We need to get out of here." "twelve lives later, and you still haven't lost that sharp mouth of yours," Santos said when he appeared, but he didn't look insulted. He had a smile on his face. "You did well," he said to me. "yeah, well, you didn’t leave me with a choice." "or you had a choice. You could have smeared your blood across that door and taken your friends. But you stayed and you unlocked a very vital part of you. I'm impressed."

And after seeing Renata glued to his side, I always knew, deep inside, that I was never going to be able to compete with her in the first place. “She is part of my pack now.” Diego said, answering his father. Both men shared a glance, and Giovanni wrapped his hand around my waist, pulling me back gently. I frowned at his action, but he didn’t flinch for a moment. If anything, the man just seemed to be alert.

Then, almost in passing, the article included this paragraph: “Rumor has it that Miguel Santos’ younger brother Antonio will also be in attendance. Antonio is the owner of multiple reputable —and not so reputable— exclusive strip clubs across Europe. Unfortunately, sources say that Antonio’s ever-recluse baby mama Daisy will not be in attendance, citing the need to attend a long-awaited family reunion on the West Coast the same day.” What. the. F&&k.

Then a hand went up. “It’s y equals mx plus b.” I turned toward the voice. The guy sitting next to me was Hispanic. Sharp jawline. Curly hair. Blue eyes. Arms like tree trunks. “That’s correct,” Mrs. Payne said. “And your name?” “Marcelo,” he replied. “My name is Marcelo.”

It was him. Mateo Santiago.

“Why are you telling me this?” “Because I need your help and you need mine.” I set down the coffee cup. “Help with what?” Santos pulled out a folder from the bag beside her and slid it across the table. I opened it and found photos of a man, mid-thirties, dark hair, easy smile. There were newspaper clippings, printouts of articles, handwritten notes. “Who is this?” I asked. “My brother, Marcus Santos, he was a journalist, investigative reporter, worked for a couple of independent outlets covering crime and corruption.”