by Mason, V. F.
Ah, of course.
If Octavius is in trouble, his best friend runs to the rescue and goes above and beyond to make sure no one harms him.
Florian generally annoys everyone for his sarcastic jabs, which is surprising for such a young age, even these boys, but no one can question his loyalty to Octavius.
I look at them all and finally speak up on the matter. “Well, it seems all of you are responsible for this mess. Ask the maid for help and clean it up. After that you will all apologize to Esmeralda.”
“Yes, sir,” they all reply in unison, and I shake my head at them, hoping they never lose their unity.
Passing them, I move to the terrace door ready to find my wife in the garden. She’s probably painting again.
Sadness overshadows all other emotions though when I see Harold and Ricardo’s pictures hanging on the wall, and familiar pain sinks into me.
We lost one three years ago due to a heart attack, and the other died a year ago to a stroke.
They died quickly and without suffering, according to the doctors, but it didn’t make the hurt any less.
The house still feels empty without them hovering over us all, but at least they got to dote on Santiago for a while.
I step outside, welcoming the breeze sliding over my skin when Santiago shouts, “Papá!” He smacks into my legs, wrapping his hands around my waist and tilts his head back. “I love you. Thank you for not being angry.”
Ruffling his hair, I squeeze his nape and reply, “I love you too.”
“You’re a hero, Daddy, a hero!” he yells and then hugs me one last time before rushing back to his friends who probably already plan more chaos.
I pray for my son to always consider me a hero and never a villain.
Focusing my attention back on the garden, I spot my beauty walking among the rose bushes. She leans toward a blooming bud and inhales it, a soft smile gracing her lips while her blue hair falls over her shoulder.
She’s a vision in a white dress with her feet bare, organically merging with nature.
I chuckle thinking about all the rumors surrounding our relationship, claiming I kidnapped her so she had to run away five times but still ended up dragged back to Chicago when I finally blackmailed her into marrying me.
Gives a way darker spin on the story than what actually happened.
She must feel my stare on her as she looks at me and crooks her finger. “Mr. Cortez. Fancy seeing you here.”
I stroll to her and shrug. “My wife loves the garden so much I’m starting to get jealous.” She laughs when I wrap my arm around her waist, pressing her against me, and lace my fingers in her hair. “The possessive beast needs to claim his beauty.”
“Does he now?”
Our mouths brush against each other, connecting for a second in a chaste kiss before I utter, “Oh, yes.” Pressing my thumb on her chin, I open her jaw wide as I push my tongue inside, seeking hers, and she eagerly responds, moaning into our heated kiss.
Her hands fist my shirt as she brings herself even closer while deepening the kiss, our tongues fighting for dominance, but she capitulates quickly, letting me control the pace.
A tremor rushes through her, and goose bumps pucker on her flawless skin. I tilt her head back, snatching my mouth away. She gulps for air while my lips travel to her neck, nipping her flesh as her moans fill my ears and her nipples harden through this silky dress that should be forbidden for how tightly it shapes her body, which is for my eyes only.
My woman, only mine.
I crave to tear the offending clothes away, push her to the nearest wall, and stake my claim all over her so she’ll know no one would ever love her the way I do.
But then the children’s laughter echoes through the garden. I groan into her neck, and Esmeralda giggles. “We are responsible parents now.”
“Until they all leave.”
“They never really leave though,” she teases. Indeed, sometimes I think those boys live here because of all the time they spend in my house. “Lucian?”
“Yes, mi amor?”
“I love you.” Her arm circles my neck. “I’m so glad you asked me five times to marry you.”
“Don’t forget blackmailing you into marriage too.”
“That too. I guess being a charming asshole pays off.”
I pinch her a little, which only amuses her more, and then we kiss again.
All those years ago as a child, I created a motto for myself that kept me alive through the most hideous things.
Survive until I could beat them.
I thought that meant having power to destroy the monsters who lurk in the night killing innocent souls and dragging them to the darkness.
Except it hardly brought me any happiness or peace. Instead, the hollowness in my chest grew until slowly I started to believe that I was destined to live this life alone.
However, I understood the true meaning of the motto when this blue-eyed beauty accepted the villain in me and gave him so much love he didn’t know what to do with it all.
She brought laughter to his house, emotions that transformed his black-and-white world into vivid colors and created something beautiful.
Surviving until I could beat them meant to love.
Love with all my might, because only then the monsters hurting me in the past couldn’t win.
All those years ago, they brought me pain.
But they didn’t take my soul and heart.
No, those fully belong to my wife and son.
Life though is full of unexpected surprises.
Some good, some devastating.
Several years later, my destiny granted me one more gift, a beautiful princess who lights up our entire world.
My Jimena.
As a result, Florian dared to do what I forbade him to do.
And in this, he announced war between the two dynasties.
After all…
Heavy is the head that wears the crown.
The End
Turn the page to read an excerpt from Santiago’s Conquest.
Santiago’s Conquest Excerpt
Briseis
A raspy breath of distress slips past my lips when my hold on the bouquet in my hands tightens, the roses’ thorns digging into my skin and probably drawing blood.
The priest’s booming voice echoes through the space of the church, his smile so bright I wonder if it hurts his face.
Or do despicable creatures have no idea about the devastating emotions of mere mortals?
“Do you, Briseis Dawson, take this man…” With each word, I zone out farther and farther from this situation while the ringing in my ears replaces his rusty voice. I barely hold myself back from spitting on him for what he’s allowing to happen inside these walls that should have been my sanctuary.
Instead, this place fed me to the wolves so they could shred my flesh to pieces, their sharp teeth sinking into me so harshly they won’t rest until I bleed out on the floor… with God as my witness.
Monsters, hideous monsters led by the devil who….
A single tear slides down my cheek, hidden behind my veil made of the finest tulle. Nothing but the best for the bride of this groom, after all.
The groom, who I promised to hate till my last breath for what he has done to my family, stays oblivious to my begging, only a small smirk on his face while pleasure at his deeds radiates from him.
The King of Darkness and Deceit.
He chuckles, and I can almost imagine how his sapphire-blue eyes glisten with something wicked—the only expression that fills those orbs whenever his gaze lands on me—and I have to run far away from him… well, as much as I can in the current circumstances, in order to avoid it.
Not that he lets me do it for long; the freaking sadist enjoys my discomfort in his company, if his constant grins are anything to go by.
Madness has many forms and faces on this earth, covered in the masks of beauty and power, sneaking up on you when you least expect it, snatching you in
to its web of deceit and pain that follow you wherever you go.
His madness though?
Has no boundaries or control. Instead, it soaks up all the chaos around him.
The corset of my wedding dress is impossibly tight on my waist, and each gulp of air becomes a struggle, the pressure reminding me of the invisible chains the man has placed on me with no way of breaking them.
Shifting my focus from the priest, I stare at this unusual church they brought me to with its expensive colorful glass in the windows and the ceiling carved in an oval shape that almost gives a fairy-tale-like experience.
Except I’m trapped in a nightmare, which—no matter how much I pinch myself—doesn’t transform into the fairy tale I’ve pleaded for my entire life.
Despite its beauty that has the power to make one gasp in awe, the place reeks of doom and hopelessness that no amount of expensive artwork or luxurious design can hide.
A princess-cut diamond and sapphire engagement ring on my finger bumps against one of the thorns, the stone glistening in the shimmering light from above me, and I resist the urge to snatch it off and throw it at the groom, along with a few colorful word choices.
I catch Father Paul’s stare on me; conflicted emotions cross his face along with distress that he soothes with his gentle smile, as if it can reassure me.
Nothing on this earth has the power to reassure the inferno burning in my chest or the monster claiming me as his because he wishes to.
The priest’s lips stop moving, and he looks at me expectantly while my brows furrow, since I’ve no clue what he wants.
Panic shadows his face, and his lips move once again. I shake my head, hoping the ringing will go away so I can listen to him.
Still nothing though, and instead, my heartbeat speeds up in my chest, beating so fast I’m afraid it might jump out and land on the floor where the monster can stomp all over it.
Literally this time, since he has done it figuratively already.
A strong hand wraps around my waist and spins me so fast my head gets dizzy. I bump into the hard-as-brick muscles of his chest as his other hand captures my chin between his fingers, raising it so our gazes clash. “He asked you a question, mi novia.”
Rage flashes through me so violently that for a second the air gets stuck in my lungs while I want to shout in despair from not being able to unleash it on him with full force.
Maybe then he would have choked on his words, because calling me his bride is an insult to all the married couples all over the world.
The only appropriate word is captive.
His deep, husky voice sends shivers down my spine, and revulsion runs through me at his touch, the rose thorns digging sharper this time, and I wince in pain, finding no wiggle room in his hold to step back and throw away the stupid bouquet I never wanted in the first place. “Will you take me as your beloved husband and promise to cherish and love me till the day I die?” A sinister smile widens his mouth while he winks at me. “Or, in other words, till death do us part?” His thumb slides over my cheek gently, evoking fear inside me, reminding me how this hand can kill someone with just one strike.
I twist my face to the side, avoiding his caress, but he tightens his fingers on me, digging them painfully into my skin, and a whimper of distress escapes me. “The choice is yours, querida.” He prolongs the last word, as if tasting it on his tongue when he addresses me.
I wish to slap him hard, so he won’t call me his darling again, then fist the skirt of my dress and, with my high heels clicking soundly on the marble floor, run through the heavy, wooden doors at the end of the church’s hallway to hide far away from here.
“I always keep my word, darling.”
He won’t chase me, granting me my freedom he has promised from the very beginning, and with time I can forget all the events that have happened, like a bad dream that should have never even involved me.
However, all this musing has no point.
I stay silent, waves of shock rushing through me while I will myself to say the words everyone expects, yet they seem to get stuck in my throat, not wanting to be spoken for the destruction they might cause in my life.
The groom sighs, winking at me. “Querida, I’m starting to get bored. And it’s never a good sign.” Someone clears their throat, and I shift my focus to the bench on the left where a blond-haired man flips a knife between his fingers while the man next to him, bound in tight, black ropes, groans in pain, blood seeping from various wounds on his torso and head.
The blond man puts the sharp tip to his victim’s neck and nicks the skin, chuckling quietly, finding amusement in how his victim bursts into tears, his eyes pleading for mercy he will never get from the likes of them.
The victim mumbles something through the tape covering his mouth, and I don’t have to read minds to know what he thinks.
Or rather asks of me.
After everything he put me through… he still expects me to do it.
“Choose, Briseis,” the groom says, boredom lacing his tone as he snaps my head back to him so his hot breath fans my face, his lips inches away from mine. “Either become my wife or I’ll kill your father.” He waits a bit and adds, “Choose wisely. Don’t bargain with the devil if you are not ready for the consequences, mi amor.”
Yes, Santiago Cortez has given me a choice.
But no matter the outcome… my soul will be crushed like a porcelain mug hitting the floor.
Turning away from him, I focus my attention on the priest and finally find the strength to utter the words that cut me from inside out, while self-loathing fills my entire being along with hate that burns brighter with each passing second toward the man standing next to me. “I do.”
My life has become a nightmare.
Because a sinner decided to own me.
Click here for Santiago’s Conquest.
Also by V. F. Mason
Dark Romance
Sociopath’s Obsession
Sociopath’s Revenge
Psychopath’s Prey
Lachlan’s Protégé
Micaden’s Madness
Callum’s Hell
Madman’s Method
Madman’s Cure
Arson’s Captive
The Land Where Sinners Atone
Santiago’s Conquest
Mafia Romance
Pakhan’s Rose
Pakhan’s Salvation
Sovietnik’s Fury
Brigadier’s Game
Kaznachei’s Pain
Free Books
His Broken Princess
Acknowledgments
First, I want to thank God and my family for allowing me to write and make this dream possible. The support means so much to me, and I understand that sometimes it drives you crazy, especially when I try to meet my deadlines and seem unavailable to you. But I love you guys and appreciate everything you do for me.
This story….I loved writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it.
Huge thank you to Hot Tree Editing team for helping me with my editing process. Especially Becky, Donna, Peggy, Kayla and Mandy. Plus beta readers and final eyes, who gave me valuable feedback and made sure I covered any plot holes I had.
Thank you to Sommer Stein, Wander Aguiar and Andrew Biernat for the fabulous cover.
Heather Roberts, thank you for being with me during this release every step of the way.
L.Woods PR thank you for hosting my cover reveal and release blitz.
Thank you to my reader group, you are amazing!
Thank you to all the bloggers for spreading the word about Lucian’s Reign and leaving reviews.
And finally to all the readers who took a chance on this journey of love between Lucian and Esmeralda. Thank you to each one of you.
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