Saint's pov

I sat, legs crossed as my guys checked the new ammunition that had just arrived. The smoke from the cigarette in my mouth filled my lungs and the air in front of me. It was a habit at this point, a habit I didn't think I would stop ever. And it had started at a very young age, I was only surprised my lungs were not yet fried. 

I looked at the guy behind the counter table as he counted the ammunition and weapons carefully. My eyes caught the red vase containing the ...