by Mason, V. F.
The party has been going on for ages, and for the last four hours everyone wanted a piece of me, ever since Lucian showed up and we cut the cake.
They would come to congratulate us, tell us that we are perfect for each other, and ask if we plan to start a family anytime soon.
I think I’ve put all these pregnancy rumors to rest when I shouted “no” as a reply and shocked a lot of women out there.
Countless useless conversations just to establish their pretense of loving us, so Lucian will continue to do business with them, and my grandmother as well. Apparently, she has more power than I thought. Since everyone predicts she will leave all this to me and, by default, to Lucian they have to play nice.
There were magical moments too, especially when Lucian tugged me onto the dance floor and twirled me in an intimate dance that was highly inappropriate for any audience.
But when he gazed at me in such a heated way as if no one else existed for him and erupted butterflies in my stomach, rushing through me in pleasurable sensations, I knew I didn’t care what anyone thought as long as I was in his arms.
In such moments, I could almost believe I married a beast who turned into a handsome prince and the whole kingdom came to celebrate.
Except my villain would never make me forget who truly claimed this particular princess.
Walking to the living room, I drop to the couch and slip off my shoes, rubbing my feet against each other and wiggling my toes, then groaning slightly. “Wearing all these heels is gonna kill me,” I mutter right as Harold comes in, grinning at me. “Please tell me everyone left.” I tap on the stiletto with my toe. “I cannot put this on again.”
“Everyone left,” he assures me and then locks his hands behind his back. “Lila asked me to tell you that she will send a driver for you tomorrow.”
“What for?”
“She said there is a perfect place for a gallery in Chicago, and she wants to show it to you.”
Oh, right.
She did have that conversation with one of the sponsors who wanted to sell his building, and since it’s located right in the center adjacent to the artistic street, opening a gallery there might be a good business opportunity.
I stay silent, pondering her request to send the driver while Lucian probably has cars in this house. Wouldn’t it be smarter to just use my own, so she won’t have to waste time dropping me off before she heads to the airport? “I can call her and inform her you object if you want?”
I shake my head. “No need. I don’t mind checking out the place.” I decide to change the subject. “The party was amazing, Harold. You’ve done a great job.” He straightens up as happiness flashes in his orbs, and he smiles so widely the wrinkles on his cheeks deepen. Noticing Ricardo strolling in the room, I tell him, “Both of you.”
The cook nods, his white uniform smeared with various sauces as he removes his hat and runs his fingers through his hair. “The pleasure was all mine. I’ve still got it after all these years.” He places his hands on his hips while Harold rolls his eyes. “This calls for scotch!”
“Ricardo,” Harold hisses, motioning at me with his head.
“What? I have some in the kitchen, let’s go. Let the young ones clean it all up.” He cracks his neck from side to side. “I’m getting too old to stand on my feet all day.”
Before the butler objects out of a wrongful sense of obligation, I say, “That sounds like a lovely idea.” Ricardo grins, and then I ask, “Where is Lucian?”
“Outside. He walked through the terrace doors a few minutes ago,” Harold informs me, and I nod, getting up, moaning a little when my bare feet step on the cold marble, bringing relief to my abused flesh. “Do you need anything?”
“Harold, just go enjoy the rest of the night. We’re fine.” I kiss him on the cheek, and his face reddens. “Thank you for everything.”
I saunter to the terrace door and go outside, tilting my head back as the breeze glides over my skin breaking goose bumps, and cold granite greets me.
Various lights spread all over the perimeter brighten up the place, creating a false sense of security as if tempting you inside the garden where flowers bloom and trees grow, yet warning you that dangerous creatures might live there the farther you dare to go.
And among all this beauty, I see Lucian standing in the distance, his jacket and vest long gone while his open white shirt billows back from the wind, slightly exposing his scarred skin.
Thunder echoes in the sky, and the clouds gather together, threatening to pour rain on us any minute. But paying no attention to the warning, I go to him, my steps soundless on the grass, and since his back faces me, he might not even hear me.
Removing the pin from hair, I drop it and ruffle my locks, not wanting anything to bring me discomfort now.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
My arms wrap around his six-pack, my splayed palms settling on his hot skin while he doesn’t even jerk in surprise. A smile shapes my mouth as I bite his shoulder blade. “Ah, careful, gatita. I might bite back,” he teases, placing his hands above mine and running his fingers over my flesh gently.
“Rain will start soon.” I say the obvious, since thunder shakes the sky again. Kissing the bite I’ve just given him, I rest my check on his back. “What are you doing here?”
He stays silent for a while, his heart beating evenly under my touch, yet tension surrounds us. I feel a slight tremor go through him. He speaks up, his voice huskier than usual, and I press myself closer to him, sharing my warmth with him. “When my father brought me home… this quickly became my favorite place in the entire mansion.” I still, my heart speeding up in my chest because, for the first time, he willingly talks about his past. “After the doctor gave me the all-clear to go outside, I couldn’t wait to do it. I went out just as the rain poured from the sky, soaking me.” Doctor? I tighten my hold on him, not daring to say a word for fear of him closing off again. “I stood, breathing in the fresh air as droplets slapped against my face, and laughed for the first time. Genuinely laughed, because I was outside, fully fed and clothed. Found after all those years. And free. Free at last.”
Free?
Oh, no.
I jerk my hand, needing to face him to see the emotions playing on his features because his detached tone doesn’t give me much, but he holds me in place, grabbing my hand and sliding it upward to his neck. “For years, a collar resided here. Wrapped tightly with sharp thorns touching my skin so I wouldn’t dare move in different directions because another man held the leash.” Tears form in my eyes, and the air sticks in my throat while horrible images paint in my head, making me nauseous as sadness envelops me along with desperation. “They’d push my face into a bowl and order me to eat while they laughed and fucking laughed, showing me that their power over me was absolute.” I tug on my hands again, needing to cover my ears because I cannot bear to hear it. I begged him to share all this time, but right now my insides scream at me to block away his voice. The pain in my heart becomes so great, tears slide down my cheeks and my soul aches for the little boy he used to be who knew so much cruelty.
No wonder he feels this much resentment toward his father and grandfather. Whatever happened in the past clearly could have been avoided if they’d sorted out their family drama sooner rather than later.
He glides my hand over his various puckered scars, dragging it to his six-pack. “Knives, beatings, dangerous games for their own amusement. Rape.”
No.
No, no, no.
“I took it all. Because surviving meant killing them someday, and that desire was stronger than anything else I’d experienced.”
“And survive you did,” I whisper, sobs clogging my throat as he steps back from my embrace and spins around. The lightning flashes, showing his male beauty in the dangerous light.
His dark hair sways a little and it reminds me of a pirate who came to conquer what’s rightfully his.
Aguish and coldn
ess fill his gaze while a chuckle escapes his lips, bitter and hollow. “I did.” He looks to the side. “Surviving wasn’t enough though. I craved power so they would know what it was like to be on the bottom and beg for salvation that’s denied to you. Monsters who lurk in the night, ready to strike, have no bravery, and when they meet an equal or stronger opponent, they cave, ready to run away with their tails tucked.”
“So you kill the men the little boy couldn’t?” I ask, stepping back a little. “Trying to balance the goodness and evilness in this world?”
Our gazes meet, and the amusement flicking in his confuses me, because what could possibly be humorous about my question? “Balance it? Claro que no, gatita, es imposible.” His knuckles wipe away my tears. “Because evilness rules me, and goodness doesn’t exist within me.”
I take another step back, avoiding his touch that disturbs my senses and frown. “I don’t understand. You told me all these men deserve to die. You don’t kill innocent people.”
“Yes. The men engaged in hideous crimes, feasting on the flesh of the weak and torturing them in the most vicious ways. People are toys in their hands, so they do whatever the hell they want with them. Morals, compassion, mercy, they do not exist for the men I kill or send to prison.”
If they do all these crimes, I have no compassion for them either. It sounds awful to justify what he does because only a crazy person would think so.
Or the one deeply in love with the man who received so much undeserved cruelty in this world.
Maybe his darkness is worth it as long as it ensures no other child suffers the way he did because such monsters never change.
They continue to use their power in ways that destroy souls and traps them in hell.
“See? It means you are using goodness in order to punish them for what they’re doing.”
Not that murdering people is the answer to such crimes, we have laws for a reason, but when one chooses between a psycho and a man who eliminates monsters, the choice is obvious.
“The mantra that kept me together was survive until I could beat them. Except I failed.” He grabs my elbow and pulls me to him, our chests bumping against each other as he wraps his arm tightly around me while his hand tangles in my hair, tilting my head back. “Because I became exactly like them, mi amor.” I swallow as another tear escapes me while his tone fills with so much self-loathing I desperately want to soothe it but don’t know how. “Beating them would have meant moving past it and using all the opportunities life has given me to start fresh. Thousands of people suffer. Some less, some more than me. But they haven’t turned to the darkness like I did.” He leans closer. “They are the epitome of strength as they managed to do something I haven’t. Keep the light within them that shines brighter than darkness. I respect them more than they’ll ever know. I couldn’t resist its tempting call.” His thumb slides over my cheek, scooping more tears as confused emotions consume my head, his explanation only adding to the pain sinking its claws in my heart as they reek of hopelessness.
He signed himself a death warrant and does not expect or want redemption for his deeds.
But also… he doesn’t feel deserving of this because the motto that kept him alive led to his ultimate destruction and downfall into the vicious world. His darkness became addicting and a necessity in his life to calm the nightmares he must still live through.
What happened to me still plagues me and scares me, scarring my psyche so much on most days I struggle for composure. For almost ten years I’ve avoided any attachments or relationships for fear of losing them and in such hurting more.
Existing in a protective bubble though never made me happy, and when he showed up, my reality changed from black-and-white into a myriad of vivid colors.
However, he lived in hell for years, judging by his description, reduced to feeling like a toy who was created to be played with by awful people.
Denied his birthright, and even when the family claimed him, they didn’t heal his wounds.
Or rather he didn’t allow them to, because opening himself up for more pain would have been catastrophic for him.
A child who knows only hate cannot be expected to grow up into someone loving and caring without being shown the way.
And every time he kills these men… who is he saving?
Their possible victims?
Or does he try to atone for the small boy still living deep inside him who craves love and acceptance but does not dare to dream about it?
Would he stop if he received love, despite the things he has done?
Or are his inclinations so deeply rooted in him he considers them a part of himself, and that’s why he puts himself on the same level with all these hideous monsters?
“You’re nothing like them, Lucian.” I place my hand on his chest, right over his heart. “This still has goodness in it. You just have to—”
His harsh voice interrupts me, not letting me finish my thought. “Don’t allow your heart to show its compassion and find something romantic about my deeds. I told you. I’m not a Prince Charming and we do not live in a fairy tale.” His hold on me tightens, and he brings us closer, my gasp trapping between us as our breaths mingle. “I’m a villain who craves you to the point of insanity. Unfortunately, my obsession will be your greatest curse. Because you are trapped with me for eternity, and inevitably my darkness will taint you. Lo siento, mi amor. Te necesito demasiado para dejarte.”
I’m sorry, my love. I need you too much to give you up.
Need and obsession go hand in hand, and for a man like Lucian who learned to control his every emotion in order to survive… admitting to having such weakness equals loving a person.
A love he doesn’t know how to express or even name as he’s probably never felt it before, so his first instinct is to possess, trap, seduce.
A hunter got his prey, but he has no clue how to make her stop resisting her new reality.
Or how to keep her without hurting her in the process.
No one showed him how to love a woman, so he loves me in the only way he can.
After his words, the chaos in my soul, which has been present ever since the damned photos appeared, settles. I can finally accept him as he is with all his flaws.
But more importantly, without any guilt, doubts, self-loathing, or desire to change him.
Villains never become heroes again, since even their good actions are considered atonement and never a heroic act.
Most people would tell me to run far away, and hide from him; that the monster within him is hungry for blood and gore and never intends to stop indulging in all these horrible acts.
But most people don’t know him like I do.
I do, because no one ever filled my soul with so much warmth and happiness where the world became an adventure again and not merely a boring ride.
Nothing can taint it.
Even his darkness.
Our lips touch as I whisper, “Then I fell in love with the villain who has all my heart, and I don’t want to be free of him. I just want to be his.”
His fingers dig into my skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly, and his gaze roams over my face… not fully believing my words.
So, rising on my tiptoes, I close the distance between us and place my mouth on his.
The princess in this particular fairytale chooses the villain.
She never dreamed about a prince anyway.
Lucian
The door bounces off the wall when I kick it open, entering the room while holding my precious wife in my arms.
She laughs softly, tightening her arms around my neck. “The whole house will know about your intentions, Mr. Cortez,” she whispers, rubbing her nose up and down my neck and sending warmth through me that only blazes from inside out in her presence.
For before she stepped into my world, it was dark and cold, filled by endless torture and gore with nothing bright in sight.
And now in the garden she finally has accepted me as I a
m, ready to spend her days with the villain for whom she is the center of his universe.
Mi hermosa esposa.
My beautiful wife who made the organ in my chest beat again after being frozen for an eternity, because no one taught me what love is.
How could a monster crave something he never knew?
“I think after I fucked you in the garden the other day, they suspected about my constant need for you.” Shutting the door soundly with my foot, I walk farther into the room as the moonlight coming from the open terrace door brightens up the entire space, aided by two dimmed lights above.
Her sapphire ring glistens, sending square shadows on the wall, and satisfaction surges through me while a sinister smile shapes my mouth, reminding me about all the men watching my woman tonight and knowing who she belonged to.
They might dream about having someone like her one day; after all, she stood out tonight like a rare diamond among the regular stones, vivid and alive while her natural sensuality mesmerized every male in close vicinity, but they will never have her.
Because Rebecca Esmeralda Cortez belongs to me, and now the whole world knows it.
The light wind curls around us, the leaves rustling and owls hooting in the distance, as thousands of stars in the night sky create a romantic atmosphere designed for forbidden pleasures and wicked sins, ready to drag you to hell.
But you go willingly if it means staying by her side.
“Lucian!” she exclaims, mortification filling her tone, and she wiggles in my arms, adding “Put me down, please.” My brows furrow at the request, and my hold on her tightens instead as I head to the bed. I plan to ravish her for hours, staking my claim on her delectable body repeatedly, marveling at the fact that she won’t fight the pull between us anymore.
She shakes her head, licking her plump lips that I wish to bite and mark. “Please?”
What sane man could refuse when she pleads with these ocean eyes of hers that are so clear I want to drown in them and have them always filled with happiness and never fear?
Stopping in the middle of the room, I do as she asks, and she immediately takes a few steps back. I growl under my breath, sending a warning her way, but she only grins, her white teeth sinking into her bottom lip while she throws her heavy locks over her shoulder where they cascade down her back.