by Mason, V. F.
Too stunned at what could have been, I still and watch as a tall, lean man wearing a shirt and jeans, his blond hair gleaming in the sunlight, gets out of the car.
He walks around the vehicle and removes his sunglasses, uncovering his crystal-clear green eyes. Although their color rivals those of the most expensive emeralds… they are filled with such coldness, they remind me of a reptile ready to feast on his prey.
His symmetrical features have probably earned him a good reputation with the ladies, but all the handsomeness in the world cannot change the vibe present around me, which alludes to darkness and danger.
“What the fuck, Lucian?” he exclaims, throwing his glasses on the seat. “I could have fucking killed her.”
His words serve as pouring water on me and snaps me out of my stupor as I realize who saved me, and hysterical laugher almost bursts out of me.
The monster saved me… to torture me later?
He has another think coming, then!
I hit his arm with my fists, thrashing in his hold, doing my best to free myself and resume my running. His strength is more uncomfortable than Derek’s; his arm doesn’t even twitch. “Let go of me, you psycho!” I scream, having a moment to see the strange man’s brows lift at that, and then he chuckles, finding my struggles amusing, which serves as a sign he probably knows his true nature well. “Let me—” I huff when Lucian spins me around just as I prepare to slap him in the face, but he dips down and throws me over his shoulder before I can even blink. “Put me down.” I pound his back, delivering my blows on his lower spine while kicking my legs, wanting to hurt his stomach, which might make him release me. “You’re a monster!”
The stranger trails behind us, throwing his keys at Derek as we pass him by, and asks Lucian, “No, seriously, what the hell is going on?” Then he winks at me, and I really wish I could claw out his smug expression. “Giving a good fight there, Esmeralda.”
Somehow my name on his lips sounds gruesome, and I wish he would never address me ever again.
And how does he know it anyway? I’ve never seen him before!
This man has creepy written all over him. No matter who might claim otherwise, I trust my gut.
“Rot in hell, whoever you are!” I bite Lucian’s back, sinking my teeth so deep I draw blood and leave a wound on the tan skin most likely above another scar.
The man continues to stroll back to the mansion as if oblivious to my desperation, and I hit Lucian some more, bending my knees to bump into him and twisting my knee a little.
He snatches something from his back pocket, his shoulder lowering slightly, and I dip down before coming up again.
A second later, a shot erupts, booming through the air. A few birds squawk loudly and fly into the sky. “Behave, gatita, or the next bullet might end up in someone’s body.” Freezing on top of him, I swallow past the bile in my throat while wondering how true this statement is.
Would he really shoot at his staff?
Despite them probably supporting his hideous deeds, I refuse to be responsible for their injury or death. “Good girl,” he murmurs, swatting me on the ass, and I bite on my tongue not to scream at him or kick him again.
“Get out.” Lucian addresses the man for the first time. I see anger sparking in those orbs of his at the command, but then he covers it under amusement once again. “Go back to Paris and stay there, Andreas.”
Andreas.
A silent partner in one of Lucian’s companies who has to stay away from the rich after the disastrous scandal where he forcibly tried to kiss Blair, and her relatives beat the shit out of him a few years back. He was adopted by a wealthy family when he was thirteen, and although he had a good education, he mostly stayed quiet and never tried to form any connections with anyone. Even Eugene disliked him but never explained why.
Well, wealthy by normal standards, but compared to Cortez, his family barely had anything, so no one really understood why they stayed best friends, although that would be a stretch now probably.
Andreas moved to Paris a few years back. Rumor has it Lucian banished him there after the kiss incident and kicked him out of the company.
Since he controlled most of their business, I’m not surprised.
“Lucian, come on. It’s been four years.”
Four years?
It means he tried kissing Blair when she was sixteen?
What a freaking perv!
“No me importa.”
I do not care.
“Lucian—”
“Sal.” He repeats for him to get out as he steps inside the house where the blasting air conditioning greets us, and Harold jumps around us. “Close the door and call Derek. If Andreas doesn’t want to go willingly, he can escort him.”
Anger appears on Andrea’s face as he snarls, “You cannot treat me like—” The door shuts in his face, and his next words are muffled. Then banging begins as he shouts something, and Harold smiles, pleased with himself.
Apparently, I’m not the only one who considers this guy a perv just by his vibe alone.
Lucian rushes upstairs, bumping me on his shoulder, and the older guys stay downstairs. “I will run away at the first opportunity.” Just to get my point across, I kick him hard, and he huffs a little.
He enters the room and drops me on the bed where I bounce before finding my balance and crawl to the other side to get away from him. He grabs something out of the bedside table and grips my wrist, slapping a silver cuff on it, and then secures the other one to the bedpost. “Don’t touch me!” I shout, pulling at my hand and hiss when the steel cuts into my skin. Sitting up straighter and pressing my back against the headboard, I pull one more time with no results while watching Lucian warily. “What are you going to do now? Rape me?” I spit the words. His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing it hard enough to feel his hot palm but not enough to bring me pain.
A half smile tugs at his mouth while his brown eyes blaze in anger. Fury coats his every word. “If I wanted to do so, gatita, I would just have to press here.” He brushes his thumb over my carotid artery lightly, breaking goose bumps on my skin as fear spreads inside me. I see him in a completely new light. The darkness swirling around him right now has stayed hidden all these weeks. “And you’d lose consciousness. Your body in my possession to do whatever I wish.” He tightens his grip, cutting my oxygen supply, and I slap his hand, trying to loosen his grip, but he only chuckles. “Or just throw myself on you.” He drags me forward as he leans closer, our mouths a breath away from each other, while my insides twist, my lungs demanding air, and I wiggle in his hold, but he stays relentless. “You see, darling, when someone stronger than you craves to hurt you, it doesn’t take much. Trust me.” He lets me go, and I cough violently, gulping for breath several times while rubbing my fingers over my throat. My heart gallops inside my chest and my hands shake a little. “Watch your words, Esmeralda. They have consequences.” A silent promise laces his voice, indicating to me he isn’t Mister Nice Guy anymore, and my soul hurts more than any physical discomfort he might have inflicted.
He deceived me.
A man who became my first is…
A person who doesn’t mind shooting the people who raised him as long as it gets his order followed.
How could I have been so stupid?
My body trembles, and I tuck my knees, circling my not cuffed arm around them so he won’t see it as he walks toward his desk and momentary stops by the pictures, shuffling them with the tip of his shoe. “I see it didn’t take much to convict me.” He clacks his tongue. “Shitty quality image, and you forgot all about the promises you made last night.”
“Not much? You killed all those men, and God knows how many more,” I croak, wincing a little at the pain in my throat. “Besides, I gave my promises to a man who was nothing but a mirage. An illusion.”
“Your hysterics start to bore me, gatita,” he warns and steps on the photos, reaching for the chair and pushing it closer to bed before straddling it while keeping his gaze on me. �
�For all this talk, you still wear my ring.” He rubs his chin. “Must be the bad-boy appeal, huh?”
Gasping, because I forgot about the damn thing that no longer represents hope and new beginning to me, I snatch off the ring and throw it in his face, but he manages to duck in time. “I hate it now. And you’re disgusting.” His chuckles vibrate between us. “What? You’re not even gonna convince me otherwise?”
“Why would I do that, gatita? The facts speak for themselves. I do kill. Frequently. Viciously. And with pleasure.” Anger mixed with fear and horror spreads through me at these words because there are no traces of remorse.
He truly loves what he does.
My God, what did I get myself into?
“You will go to prison,” I finally manage to say, and he rests his chin on the top of the chair, amusement flicking in his gaze. “People will search for me. I might be no one here, but I’m a Hugh! And a famous artist.”
“De verdad?”
“Yes, really! I will not be your captive for long!” I point at the photos. “These might have been forgotten, but I won’t be. Sooner or later the police will come knocking on your door, and they will find out all about you!” I end the last sentence on a shout that reverberates off the walls, but he just raises his brow while I breathe heavily.
“Ah, these dramatics remind me why I stay away from artists. You tend to blow things out of proportion with that vivid imagination of yours. Sensitive and emotional creatures.” I open my mouth to tell him what I think about him when he puts his finger to his lips. “You are right though. You will not be my captive for long.” My brows furrow in confusion as I shift on the bed a little, turning toward him and listening to whatever hideous thing he would say. “Tu serás mi esposa.”
The ringing in my ear starts as an invisible vacuum covers me from head to toe, leaving me in a bubble as dizziness overtakes me, because what he said makes no sense.
He cannot possibly expect me to marry him after all this!
Common sense pierces through the panic slowly enveloping me, slipping fear into my veins that chills my blood, and I whisper, “You want to marry me because then I wouldn’t be able to testify in court against you.” Of course, he knows how to cover his tracks and any witness will be destroyed.
His rich laughter glides over me, wrapping me in tight ropes that bruises my skin. “A wife can testify if she wants to. So that would have been a waste of my time.” He gets up, kicking the chair away and it falls on the floor with a loud thud. “You will marry me because I wish so. Granted, I would have done things differently, but you left me no choice.”
“I will not marry you!” I shout, sitting up on my knees and hissing when the cuff tightens against my skin, probably leaving marks on it. “When people come to check on me, I will tell them the truth.”
He comes closer to me and fists my hair, earning himself a groan when he tilts my head back and his other hand ends up on my cheek. “You will marry me tonight, gatita.”
“Never!” I spat. “Even if you drag me to the church kicking and screaming, I will still not say I do or sign anything.”
He pulls harshly, prickles of pain going through me, and my scalp aches so much I’m afraid he might rip my hair out. “You will do so willingly. Unless you don’t mind people you love suffering.” I freeze at this, blinking rapidly while hectically trying to understand the meaning behind his threat. “Ah, not so brave now, are we?” He loosens his grip, his fingers sliding over my head, soothing the earlier sting, but I detest his touch so much I sway my head to the side. I want to stand under the spray of water and wash all his touches away. “I will destroy every single one of your galleries. Slander your name to the point where people won’t do anything with you or any other artist even linked to you.”
His finger slides down my cheek toward my chin and then grips it, digging so hard my jaw hurts. “Bankrupt you grandmother’s dynasty. My wrath will know no bounds, Esmeralda.” Tears form in my eyes imagining all these people who might be affected because I have been so stupid and believed the lies he spoke. “You might think you do not care… but I know your loving nature. Deep down, you get attached easily but never give it a name. Love. Friendship. All these things exist in your world, and I will use every single one of them to get what I want.” A tear slides down my cheek, and he wipes it away.
“Please don’t make me do it,” I whisper, forgetting about my pride and succumbing to the desperation raging within me. “I can’t do it. Please.” Marriage is a sacred institution that should not be tainted by this charade. “I will stay your captive. Please.” As long as nothing permanently connects me to him, I can hope that someday someone will come and save me from him.
When they show up and see me as his captive, they will believe my story, but if I marry this monster… everyone will consider me on his side and never listen to a word I say.
And even when I do… I will just be judged by society who would think I let him participate in the crimes and stayed silent about it.
I waited four days in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.
I can wait this time too.
Lucian’s knuckles graze my cheek as he tips my head up and leans forward, placing his mouth on mine, and although revulsion rushes through me, I withstand the kiss and ignore the traces of a familiar reaction from my body.
It needs a few more minutes to catch up to the new reality.
“Harold will arrive soon with some wedding dresses. Pick the one you love the most,” he says, separating our mouths.
Shaking my head, I whisper, “No. Please don’t.” His blackmail makes me unable to refuse him, because a man who easily kills others… has no morals.
“It’s a done deal, darling. The sooner you accept it, the better.” He strolls to the door. When he reaches it, he flings something my way, and it falls on the bed, shimmering under the light.
A key!
I grab it, inserting it into the cuff and sob in relief when I release my hand, ready to run toward him only to see the door close and then the lock twist. “No!” I shout, banging on the door. “Let me go, Lucian!” All my pleas fall on deaf ears because the door stays closed and locked.
Whimpers escape me while I turn around and slide down the door, falling on my ass and crying into my hands. Life has left me no choice but to comply with his demands.
Madness and insanity reside in his soul, yet I failed to see them despite my experiences, which led me to my downfall.
I was wrong when I considered him a prince who broke the curse and saved the princess from loneliness.
Instead, he’s a villain who poisoned the princess and smeared her in darkness so much she had no choice but to stay in his hell right along with him.
For the price to pay for her freedom became too high.
Lucian
I crack my neck while the monster inside me roars at the fucker coming so close to my territory and distressing Esmeralda, but mainly for playing on her nightmares and delivering gruesome pictures to her on a silver platter.
However, with this action, he gave more information than he anticipated, telling me that whoever he is… he knows me well enough to predict my behavior toward Esmeralda.
A hunter might harm his prey, but he protects her from others because she sustains his life and desires.
By showing her the truth, he must have expected her reaction and how dangerous her position might become here if I let my temper rule me and force her to abide by my rules or touch.
In his warped mind though, his perfect creation was disrupted because of her so the prey needs to be punished, and what better way than to settle her with another monster who will open up old wounds?
But more importantly, he wanted to intimidate me, show me how he managed to spy on me in my dungeon all these months which indicates to me I have been on his radar for a long time too.
After all the copycat wants to build a new empire while I stand on his way.
Who wins the war?
The o
ne who plans strategically.
Something my opponent lacks because he has no patience and acts on his emotions. His desire for absolute power is so strong he finally has to tie the loose ends in order to fulfill his next wish and build an empire.
For some reason, he hates who he used to be, and Esmeralda is a living, breathing reminder of that.
He has proven one thing right now.
Nothing will diverge him from his path, and he will attack soon, so I have to beat him to it and provide a contra attack.
He might have won a battle when he crushed Esmeralda’s heart and revealed my secret, but no victory is won without a few setbacks.
My woman is strong, ready to fight till her last breath and withstand any storm, but unfortunately for her, mercy and compassion were a privilege I never had in this world, so I will not display it toward her either.
I prefer her alive hating me while resting by my side.
Than dead while loving me.
Esmeralda will become my wife today.
And with this, the bullfight will begin… where only the death of the opponent will be a satisfying result.
For our marriage certificate will be a red flag that will snap his shaky control.
And where there is no control comes chaos.
Destroying everything in its wake.
Chapter Nine
“Every villain has a past.
A past so hideous you wonder how he survived it.”
Lucian
Lucian, 7 years old
My bare feet slap against the snow-covered concrete, leaving deep imprints as I run with all my might, the frigid air slipping into my lungs and squeezing them harshly inside my chest.
“You fucking thief!” a man screams behind me. By the heavy thud echoing in the otherwise silent street, I know he follows me, fully intending to punish me for the crime I’ve just committed.
Pressing the torn loaf of bread harder to my chest, I swallow harshly and inhale a deep breath. I speed up, using all the strength I’ve got and focusing on my destination in the distance.