by Mason, V. F.
“I would have painted regardless. But if you showed me just a bit of love, all this—” I motion my fingers between us. “—could have been avoided.”
“I’ve lived in this world eighty-eight years, Rebecca.”
“Esmeralda.” Although I still have to use Rebecca wherever I sign legal documents, I correct her because I never liked the name as she gave it to me after my parents died.
She continues, ignoring my correction. “I own my decisions and mistakes. I might die soon.”
I still, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Are you sick?” God, is this why she tried to reconcile all this time and even showed up here to have this little heart-to-heart?
Or whatever else she has in that chest of hers that’s made out of granite.
Still though, she might be an old witch, but she’s my old witch, and the idea of her dying upsets me. She’s my only family. I don’t count my aunt as we’ve never met.
She laughs, sliding her hand out of mine and shifting uncomfortably. Grandmother was never a fan of any kind of affection. “No. However, I’d like for you to stop avoiding me.” Despite her forming it as a request, it sounds more like an order, and amusement grows inside me. “And meet with me at least once a month. You can bring that husband of yours too.” She frowns. “Although he is as ruthless as Alejandro, at least his bloodline will give good children. You chose well.” Satisfaction rings in her tone, and she gets up, leaning heavily on her cane before straightening.
I groan inwardly at her discussing my possible children in a breeding manner.
Grandmother will never change, even if she seeks a relationship now that’s more due to her loneliness than anything else.
Old age makes even dragons soft.
“Think about it. That’s all I ask.” She takes a step toward the terrace door but half turns to me while I still sit on the bench. “After your mother died and Evangeline ran off to God knows where, I was the one who cared for you, Rebecca. That should count for something, shouldn’t it?” With this she walks off, leaving me alone in the garden while hurt envelops my heart, opening the old wounds that still bleed.
Evangeline.
My sister promised to visit me every month, only to disappear without a trace a year later because she wanted to be free of all these responsibilities.
Or at least that’s what her letter said.
Grandmother showed it to me when I refused to believe her, and even seeing it with my own eyes didn’t convince me.
I called her apartment where no one picked up.
I tried searching for her man, but she just called him my prince, and Grandmother never got to meet him anyway.
After a year, I had to accept her decision even if resentment built inside me at her abandonment.
The pain she forever inserted in my soul hurt so much I decided to never search for her again, but sometimes I wonder if her new life was worth severing all ties with me.
Hopefully it was.
A tear slides down my cheek, and wiping it away, I jump up, needing with every fiber of my being to find my husband to soothe the cold chaos spreading in my veins.
For in this world, only he has never hurt me or let me go even when I begged him to. Instead his strong arms have embraced me, protecting me from outside forces.
Maybe destiny knows better, and that was what I needed all along.
A villain whose obsession will never leave a wound in my heart, for his darkness will keep me trapped in his castle.
Lucian
Kenneth flips the pen between his fingers as I look through the report he dropped on my table, showing me various transactions to different companies with large amounts of money.
And each of these transactions has my name on it.
Except I’ve never sent this money to these small firms that would never even have been on my radar.
“When I heard about your recent merger with Eugene on the oil company you guys bought in Texas, I figured all this was either a scam or a mistake. Why waste time in all these smaller ones if you’ve already worked with the biggest fish in the market?” He taps on the folder with the pen. “Then I did some research, and you’ll be surprised what I found.”
“All fake?” I ask, and his eyes widen in surprise at my guess. “Someone used my name to do criminal transactions, so the cops won’t be tailing them.”
“Yes.”
Leaning back in my chair, I study the large sums and anger spreads through me, as the fucker received all these payments from sick fucks who are willing to pay anything as long as their sadistic desires are met.
However, I screwed a few of his loose ends and threatened his last location, getting there before he could harm all these children he promised, which means that his time is running out.
Unsatisfied customers of such a high caliber have their own means to punish the seller who fails to deliver on their promises.
That would fuel his anger more, and since all these transactions happened weeks ago, his rage must have reached epic proportions, and he seeks revenge.
A revenge he can get only by killing me.
And how can he kill me?
By using my wife as bait.
Nothing new really, except that it shows his cockiness and some personal vendetta against me if he used my name.
Because should this go south, I can be framed for all the shit he does… at least in his mind.
Closing the folder, I grab it and extend it to Kenneth, who takes it. “Show it to your lawyer and let him contact mine. We’ll inform the police about it and make sure my name stays clear from any future accusations.”
“I do apologize for bringing it up during your wedding celebration, but business is business,” he says.
Pamela must have really played her cards right if she managed to marry him, because Kenneth lives for one thing only.
His empire.
“Thank you for coming tonight. I really appreciate it.” I wasn’t born yesterday, so I fire a question. “What can I do for you?”
No way in fuck he would have shown me all this and not expect something in return.
We respect each other, but were never close friends, maybe because he is around twenty years older than me so our paths never crossed much; therefore, he must have an agenda.
I grip my whiskey glass, taking a sip, only to choke on it when he says, “My nephew wants to kill me.” He flips the pen again. “Sooner or later, he will succeed. I hope for later though.” His hollow chuckle echoes through the space. “When I die, fifty-one percent of my shares by default would go to him.”
“Not Pamela?” Unless they have a prenup, shouldn’t she have control of the shares?
He shakes his head. “It’s a long-standing rule in our family that an heir gets it all. After my brother died, it’s just me and his son. Besides, he will marry my wife the minute the mourning period is over. Mark my words.” Damn, these Reeds make even my family seem normal. At least we don’t go against our own.
“Do you need protection?”
He shakes his head and puts the pen inside his pocket, picking up the folder. “No. The outcome is unavoidable. Trust me, he’ll plan it in such a way even the most suspicious of cops won’t doubt it’s an accident.”
I say nothing, because the nephew never gave me vicious vibes, but then again, I never paid much attention.
Other monsters have occupied my mind.
“So why do you need my help?” I glance at the clock, hating how I’ve already wasted more time on it than I anticipated as my wife must be alone out there.
Pleasure washes over me at the thought of my blue-eyed beauty who loves me despite all my flaws, and the need to find her becomes so strong I barely hold back from telling Kenneth to fuck off with his imaginary problem and stalk my wife, pushing her against the nearest wall to kiss her until our mouths hurt.
Just so I can check one more time that she’s real.
Kenneth’s voice pulls me back to the conversation. “If my wife gets pregnant or we
have a child before he manages to kill me, my shares will belong to him or her.” My brows furrow at this, still not understanding what exactly he has in mind. “Usually, a wife would act as power of attorney over the shares until the child becomes twenty-one.”
“Yes, a standard practice.” Checking the time again, I lose my patience and snap, “Kenneth, get to the fucking point, because my wife is waiting for me.”
“I want to write a will and give you the power of attorney over my shares should my child inherit them.” What the fuck? “You will be heavily involved in the decision-making, but I trust your judgment when it comes to business.”
Huffing in disbelief, I spit, “Have you lost your mind?” No one in their right mind gives such power over their family business to someone else. Fifty-one percent would give me the upper hand in all things, not to mention the burden of caring for his empire while I have my own to run.
“On the contrary, my mind thinks clearly, and what I see in the future for my child scares me.” I pause at this, letting him explain his warped logic. “Pamela is weak. She’ll go with whatever Wayne suggests.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have married her.”
He doesn’t even listen to my jab. “He’ll rule it in a way that benefits only him.”
“He has perfect business ethic, and everyone praises his ideas. Are you afraid for your empire?”
“No, for my child! He will hate any child of mine as much as he hates me.” What kind of fucked-up shit happened in their life that a man has to be afraid of his own nephew? “He will find a way to take the shares away from my kid. And I will not allow this to happen. If I have a child, he or she will have their birthright.” He grips the chair’s arms tight. “I can’t protect him or her from Oliver, but I can protect their birthright.” A beat passes with only the wooden clock ticking and disturbing the silence around us.
“You give me an enormous amount of power that should never be in anyone’s hands but family. Do you understand the magnitude of your request? I’ll have to be in an endless war with the Reeds, which threatens my businesses. Not to mention when or if you die, people might think it was my doing.” His favor isn’t worth taking all this shit for his nonexistent kid. “My answer is no.” I get up so swiftly my chair almost falls on the floor. “While we are at it, maybe you need your head examined, as delusions rule it.”
Kenneth rises from his seat as well, splaying his hands on the table and meeting my stare head-on. For the first time I see his ironclad resolve flashing back at me. “Of all people, do you know why I chose you?” He doesn’t wait for my reply. “Because I know I can trust you when it comes to this. A man who lived on the streets and starved, relying on the mercy of strangers, denied his birthright, would never allow for any kid to suffer. He’d protect him from such an existence.”
Fury sinks into my bones, burning me from the inside out, and my voice drops a few octaves. “Careful, Kenneth. Very careful.” I have no idea how he found out about my past, but he better shut his fucking mouth.
No one gets to talk to me about it.
No one.
Especially not all these guys who grew up with silver spoons in their mouths and never knew nightmares.
A knock sounds on the door, and Eugene walks in, assessing the situation. He must detect the tension in the air, as he says, “Everyone is looking for the groom. I think Harold dragged out the big-ass cake that everyone wants a bite of before the main course.”
Kenneth pushes off the desk, picks up the folder that fell on the floor, and says, calmly this time. “Think about it, please. I’ll expect your answer within the week. Please, Lucian.” He nods at Eugene and disappears behind the door while I tangle my fingers in my hair, silently roaring.
Because he put me in an impossible situation.
How can I refuse now?
But it will create so many problems, and I already have enough enemies to last me a lifetime.
“What was that all about?” Eugene asks, and I shake my head, moving toward the door myself. “Kenneth Reed saying please almost makes me believe in miracles.”
“I have no time for your sarcasm right now.”
He slaps me on the shoulder. “Relax. That being said, your wife currently is talking to Jacob who makes her and Lila laugh.” He snarls the last part while possessiveness washes over me.
The monster in me steps into the hallway, ready to stake a claim on my woman so no male in the vicinity would even think of dreaming about her, let alone enjoy her company. “My sentiments exactly.”
We quickly pass through the hallway, and I see my wife standing in the circle of her friends, tilting her head back and laughing—too close to that charming fucker who might be my friend, but right now, I want to kill him.
But then I stop abruptly, drinking in the sheer joy surrounding my wife. Her dress showcases all her beauty, reminding me how her delectable body feels under mine.
Her soft curves mold perfectly against my muscles, and the way her long legs wrap so tight around me, squeezing me so hard it seems she won’t ever let me go.
A woman who agreed to be mine, despite not knowing my past.
My good-for-nothing heart pangs painfully, beating wildly at the magnificent sight that’s my woman while everything inside me urges me to wrap my arms around her so no one will hurt her.
She’s the light in my darkness that temporarily soothes the demons living in it.
“You never get used to that emotion,” Eugene says next to me, probably watching his own wife as I still glue my stare on mine. “It consumes you and brings up the goodness and the evilness within you.”
“Because the obsession is so strong you’ll never let her leave, even if she begs,” I finish for him.
“We fear what we don’t understand. They want to leave when the monsters refuse to let them peek into their past.”
“Our past is hideous. It should never touch them.” One of the reasons I refuse to tell her all the details.
Would she be disgusted? Scared? Traumatized?
Would she care what happened to me?
Would it matter so much she might want to escape?
We have a fragile bubble around us now where the outside world, right and wrong, doesn’t exist. My past though might burst that bubble.
“Our past holds the keys to their trust. Without it, the relationship will fail sooner or later. You know it.” He slaps me on the shoulder again and then pushes toward my wife who finally notices me, her entire face brightening, and she moves to me, almost running. “Stop being the coward we hate so much and be fucking brave, amigo. You might be surprised what you find once you take the plunge.”
A few more steps and my arm circles her waist, pulling her close to me, and my hand laces in her hair, diving in for a deep, passionate kiss that makes several people around us gasp, but who gives a shit?
Her tongue entwines with mine, meeting me stroke for stroke while the desire within me grows, and by the moan slipping from her that I swallow, I know she feels it too.
But then another sensation pierces through my heaven, making my skin prickle and the hair on the back of my neck stand. The hunter in me awakens quickly; my eyes snap open, and my vision sharpens.
I tear my lips away from her. Everyone erupts in applause as Harold invites us to cut the cake while giving me a kitchen knife.
And when my palm grips its handle, I wish I could stab the fucker who showed up here to harm my wife.
For the murderer lurks in the corner watching us both, waiting for the perfect time to strike, while anger at our relationship consumes him.
This I have no doubt, as my instincts have never failed me.
Chapter Thirteen
“Accept me as I am…
because I cannot live without you.
For I’ve never loved before…
and I’m terrified of hurting you.”
Lucian
Lucian, 16 years old
Classical music mixes with glasses cli
nking against each other and a loud hum as people engage in conversations and laughed, enjoying this evening designed for their pleasure.
I growl inwardly, hating the charade.
Harold hovers behind me, pretending to right the table and whispers, “You have to smile, señor.”
“What the fuck for?” Grabbing a soda from the table, I crack it open and gulp it down.
Red stains appear on his cheeks and anger flashes in his gaze, which he cannot voice since he has the specific order to watch over me and do as I ask.
Grandpa dearest is too afraid to leave me unsupervised.
“Ah, to impress all these people?” I ask, crushing the can in my hand and throwing it away.
“Good impressions lead to profitable connections, and these are extremely valuable in business and private lives,” he explains. “This party dedicated to you might open doors for you in the future.”
“I thought all doors were already open for me, being a Cortez and all?” I pop a grape in my mouth, eating it while my butler huffs in exasperation, probably dreaming about killing me. Nevertheless, his frustration is amusing as fuck to watch.
“This is different.” His voice rises, and he quickly looks around, but everyone is too busy sucking up to my grandfather to pay attention to the illegitimate grandchild. “Think about the future, Lucian, and stop being so stubborn!”
“Or you’ll box my ears?” I catch Paul several steps away, laughing as he puts some water on the table before saluting me and running back to the kitchen.
He decided to help out his mother, and the money he’ll earn tonight will go to his college fund, so Harold must pay well for this.
We’ve bonded over our love for literature, and Paul has this peacefulness about him, believing in a higher power and a purpose in this life; it’s refreshing to be in his company.
Along with Harold and Ricardo, he’s one of the purest people I’ve ever met.
Even if I disagree with a lot of the shit he says.
“You shouldn’t have drunk that tequila!” Harold hisses but quickly schools his features. “There are several boys here. Make friends with them. In the future, they’ll be your partners.”