The Regressor And The Blind Saint Novels & Stories

A low, rough laugh rumbled out of him, dry, humorless. “And what was that again?” He raised a brow at Julie. “She liked me the moment my name came up? I’m sure she heard plenty. Dug deep. How could anyone choose to marry a blind man? A single father? My name is on every tongue in this city. I kill for a living. I take lives without blinking. I put bullets in the heads of my enemies while they beg for mercy. I burn warehouses full of rivals. I break bones for information. I traffic whatever pays. I own half the streets and scare the other half into silence. And yet she wants to marry me? Become a stepmother to my child?” His shout rattled the chandelier overhead.

Why would a blind man choose something so visual? Unless he remembers. Unless he refuses to let the dark win. I don’t know how long I stand there. Then— “What are you doing here?” The voice slices through the silence. Low. Calm. Controlled. I spin around. Desmond Blackwood stands near the door. My heart nearly stops. I don’t hear it open. I don’t hear him move. He stands tall in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His white cane, detailed with subtle gold swirls, rests in his left hand. Dark lenses shield his eyes, his expression unreadable.

He held a silver-tipped cane in his right hand, standing with a rigid, imposing posture that radiated pure power and absolute coldness. The quiet whispers of the high-society crowd buzzed in Avery's ears as she walked. "Poor girl, marrying a cripple..." "He used to be a genius, now he’s just a blind monster..." "I heard he’s ruthless. The accident made him completely mad..." Avery blocked them out, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Step by step, she forced her legs to move toward the altar. When she finally reached him, her hand was trembling violently.

He sits back on his heels and looks at her with tears in his eyes, “We don’t know what happened to Lex. She hasn’t been able to heal her for over three weeks now.” “What did the doctor say?” I gulp hard. I plant my feet to the ground, afraid to move. “You said no fucking doctors,” Reggie hisses at me through gritted teeth, “or have you forgotten?” “LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Saint’s first words in weeks are pure rage against me. He tries to claw his way forward to take control and get to Kas, still protective of her. I take a step forward. A small piece of me, a deep down part that has been hidden away until this moment, still wants her. Still wants to keep her safe and pr

“That is only a marketing strategy. The reason why I only want blind masseurs is that the VIPs who visit the top floor are very wealthy. “Their identities must be kept secret at all times. They only feel at ease if the masseurs here are blind. Do you understand now?” I nodded. “Then, I…” I hung my head low as I prepared myself to be fired from my job. To my surprise, he said patiently, “Matthew, my business has grown a lot after you’ve joined us. It doesn’t matter whether you were blind or not before. But from now on, you’re blind. Do you understand me?”

She started smearing my name, taking everything I had. My parents sided with her completely. I gave up everything. Everything except the one person I loved — Damien Blackwood. Damien was heir to the Alpha King title of the entire Southern Territory. But when I first found him, he'd lost everything. An ambush had left him blind, stripped of all wolf senses, unable to even hear. His own family had abandoned him in a remote cabin, written him off as useless. I stumbled across him during a hunt. After that, I snuck out every day to take care of him.

“Kill her, Ethan. End it. Marry me, and let’s stop playing games.” For the first time, something subtle shifted in his expression. Not shock. Not anger. But calculation. He exhaled slowly. “You are speaking emotionally,” he said quietly. “I am speaking realistically,” she shot back. “She cannot see. The doctor already confirmed it. She will never recover her sight. You don’t need her anymore. You need what she owns.” Ethan’s gaze lowered slightly. The mention of the medical diagnosis lingered in his mind. Permanent blindness. No recovery expected.

The Saint’s voice had a hint of amusement which unknowingly put Zayn at ease. The Saint regained his domineering manner when he uttered his next sentence, “Answer my question. Do you want to be an invincibilis fighter?” Zayn clenched his teeth and braced himself to say, “Yes, I do!” The Saint fell silent once again. The silence lasted a very long time, up to ten full minutes. Zayn began to feel restless. He could not understand The Saint’s game plan at all. Could it be that Caelum had already left? Or perhaps he had fallen asleep.

“She’ll thank me.” The words were almost identical to what Hannah recorded. Hearing them out loud, face to face, made my skin crawl. He wasn’t bluffing. He was deluded enough to think this whole game ended with her running back into his arms. And maybe that was why her plan could work—he was blind enough to trap himself. But blind men are dangerous. Blind men force reality to fit their obsession, and they break anything that doesn’t bend. “You’re playing with fire,” I said quietly. “She’s not yours anymore.”

I looked at the deadbolt. "Oh, for f**k’s sake, don't give me that look!" Ignatius slammed the bottle onto the table. Red wine splattered my ruined shirt. "I’m trying here! I’m being the man you fell for. The one who protected you. The Saint. Remember? I was your goddamn Saint!"