Santiago's Conquest : A Standalone Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by V. F. Mason

  Although all of us have basic medical knowledge, Octavius is the only one who finished med school even though he doesn’t practice medicine. The single purpose of his studies was to patch up victims should the need ever arise or help us all in case of emergency.

  To build a long-lasting brotherhood, you need to think strategically.

  “Yeah,” he replies, snagging a nearby rope, and Florian helps him out. “Keep an eye on him at all times during the ceremony.” Spinning around, I jog toward the bathroom, where my suit already waits for me, ready to get this over with.

  A wedding ceremony filled with the tears of the bride-to-be for the injustices this life has delivered to her once again.

  Somehow, I never imagined my wedding being anything else.

  Chapter Eleven

  “My whole life, I searched for the truth.

  I didn’t expect it to be so cruel.”

  Briseis

  Flora’s Last Letter

  My beloved Howard,

  For hours now, I’ve tried to write you this letter. Countless crumpled papers lie all around me, each of them holding words that wouldn’t have been right for my last letter to you.

  I finally decided it can’t be perfect or beautiful, because it’s devastating.

  How can I spare you this pain if it fills my every bone? Words poured on this paper along with my tears, leaving smudged imprints.

  We ended things months ago when I told the truth and you never replied.

  I’m not sure if it’s important for you or not. I somehow understood you and was never angry about your decision.

  The love inside me for you is strong; it excuses your every shortcoming, and this is a sign for me we wouldn’t have lasted anyway.

  I love you, Howard. You are my first and only love. Despite what happened in my life, I’m grateful you’ve been in it and brought me so much happiness, even if it lasted just for a moment in time.

  A smile breaks through the tears on my face as I write this to you, remembering our days and passion-filled nights.

  It has been less than a year, yet it feels like a lifetime has passed.

  I’m a naïve fool, believing in fairy tales and legends when they are nothing but myths. And I don’t know if you used me for your own amusement or truly loved me, but either way, I don’t regret us.

  Because of you, I know love.

  Which brings me to this.

  If you have gotten this letter, it means sadly I didn’t survive my plan. Embarking on this journey, I knew it was a possibility and still took those risks.

  I’m somewhere in heaven now, watching you read it, hoping with everything in me you fulfill my last request.

  The letter has an address and a picture of my daughter attached to it.

  Isn’t she beautiful? I don’t expect her to be anything else. She is perfect in my imagination, although I probably won’t get the chance to see her if you have this letter. I call her a she, but she might have ended up being a boy for all I know.

  At the location provided, the nun will be waiting for you within the next two months with my baby.

  I tore her away from Andreas’s clutches, so he won’t taint her with his darkness and do despicable things to her.

  The nun also has three of my diaries. This is the only legacy my daughter will have of me, and I want her to know the truth about her mother.

  I’m not perfect, or ideal. I’ve made mistakes… but at the end of it all, I loved her.

  And I did everything in my power to give her a chance at a better life.

  I hope, while she is raised by other people, she at least knows this about me.

  Please, Howard.

  If at least one tiny part of you loved me, cherished our time together… take care of my daughter.

  Save her from Andreas.

  And if I might have one more last wish…

  Name her Briseis.

  Briseis loved Achilles. But most importantly?

  Achilles never hurt her, and cherished her instead, so that’s what I wish for my daughter.

  Not a legendary love story where myths would be spoken about them for years to come.

  But a love that lasts.

  I’m sorry for the pain this letter brings you or any other emotions. Maybe you experience anger that I even dare to ask for such a thing of you. However, there is no one else in my mind I can trust with such information.

  If only life had been different.

  If only Andreas never happened.

  If only….

  In the reality I’m living though, “if only” doesn’t exist.

  I love you till my last breath, Howard.

  Just like Paris did Helen, I finally realized all along I had it wrong in our romance.

  I’m the Paris and you are Helen.

  I can’t change my destiny.

  I hope though I can change my daughter’s.

  Always yours,

  Flora

  Briseis

  “We’re done,” the makeup artist, Erica, announces, brushing my cheek with the blush one last time before stepping back and clasping her hands together. “You look stunning.”

  “She’s right. You really do,” Aly says, and taking a deep breath, I face the huge vertical mirror behind me, gasping the minute my eyes land on my reflection, surprised to see myself so…

  So beautifully put together.

  My brown locks have an elegant long hairstyle, the heavy curls cascading down my spine, the crystal pin holding them together from both sides giving me a princess-like vibe with the perfectly applied makeup. My eyes are exceptionally vivid in my face and, despite their different colors, somehow manage to stand out on my pale skin. The red lipstick brings attention to my full mouth while the slight blush carves my high cheekbones.

  My gaze shifts to the silver-white dress, an unusual color for a wedding dress. According to Aly, Santiago picked it himself. To my surprise, it wasn’t the one hanging in the cage. Maybe that was just a prop he used to demonstrate his point?

  The off-the-shoulder ballgown has a laced, tight corset, squeezing the life out of me and emphasizing my slim waist, curving into my wide hips where endless silk laps over the skirt. The silver stiletto heels finish the composition.

  If I were a real bride on the verge of marrying the man of my dreams, I would be the luckiest woman on earth, crying in happiness at how amazing everything turned out.

  Except everything around me and on me showcases an illusion of his creation destined to bring me suffering and pain.

  “We need something old and blue,” Erica says, glancing around her. She wiggles the bouquet of red roses in her hand, matching the color of my lipstick. “Too bad these aren’t blue.” She inhales their scent, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky, Briseis.”

  Aly adjusts her glasses on her nose, shaking her head, hinting for her to stop talking so informally to me.

  After arriving with Remi, I discovered quickly how much power the Cortez family truly possesses when she took us to the elevator through their big-ass empty office building while she tapped fiercely on her tablet, informing me everything was ready.

  We entered a wide room consisting of expensive furniture, a bathroom, crystal chandeliers, and a team of people ready to work their magic on me.

  And all of them did their job efficiently and quietly, without even daring to raise their eyes to me. Aly brought me medication and hot tea with honey, bringing temporary relief to my sore throat. The assistant asked me several times to let her know should I need anything and that my wishes are top priority over any plans scheduled.

  Poor girl tried so hard to do her job that I had no heart in me to be difficult or indifferent; after all, it’s not her fault this is a fake game her boss plays in order to…

  God knows what really.

  Wracking my mind for an hour while being pampered by different professionals didn’t bring me any clues to what Santiago might achieve with this wedding.

  The only person who chatted
my ear off was Erica, the bubbly girl as I discovered can talk about anything and everything, spitting out a million words a minute.

  Aly’s phone dings, and her eyes widen before she darts to the door, and since we’re standing right in the middle, I assume one of the four must be here to take me to the church.

  Fisting the skirt of my dress, I start to walk after her when Erica grabs my elbow, tugging me back to the middle. “We have to put on the veil.”

  A veil in certain cultures represents the pureness and innocence of the bride. In ancient times, it served as protection from evil spirits who might attack the bride or curse the marriage.

  Except wedding traditions hardly matter to me. This marriage is cursed from the get-go, and no veil will rectify the situation.

  “I don’t need it.”

  Erica opens her mouth to protest, but loud high heels clicking on the marble shift my attention to the new guest sauntering toward me.

  My jaw almost hits the floor.

  Simply put, I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman, and by the confidence pouring out of her, she’s well aware of the fact.

  She has long black hair falling down her back in heavy waves, the bright light reflecting through the silky strands, and they must reach her bottom, easily styled in a waterfall fashion.

  Her blue eyes remind me of the clear blue sky on a summer day and stand out like two diamonds against her tan skin. The silky lace dress wraps around her body, showing the generous curves of her breasts and butt. The dress finishes slightly above her knees, revealing her long legs, and as she steps closer, her scent, roses mixed with orchids and lavender, envelops me.

  She doesn’t have to introduce herself.

  Jimena Cortez.

  Santiago’s sister and an heiress to the throne whose hellion ways drive her entire family crazy.

  Last I heard, she got her pilot’s license and announced her desire to fly across the ocean all by herself.

  Her blue orbs scan me from head to toe, and a soft smile widens her plump limps. “You’re beautiful.” She raises her hand with a square, black velvet box. “Santiago owes me huge for sneaking this out of Dad’s office. I almost got busted.” My brows furrow in confusion, and she comes closer, gently flicking my locks over one shoulder. “But I got it.” She opens her palm, expecting my hand I assume, so I give it to her, too stunned to utter a single word, and she finally opens the box.

  I blink at the gorgeous ring inside it.

  Surrounded by smaller diamonds, the pure, clear sapphire ring in a princess cut glistens in the light, reflecting our faces in it, and the platinum band only adds to the luxury of the jewel. “Florian’s dad designed it for mine years ago when he proposed to Mom. It’s a symbol of their love.” She slips it on my finger, rubbing the stone and explaining further the importance this family jewel holds. “On their thirtieth anniversary, Dad gifted her another one, and they decided to keep this one for Santiago. I secretly think they both tried to hint to him they wanted grandbabies.” Her voice hitches on the last word, something flashing on her face, but she covers it up with a smile once again.

  Mortification runs through me at this information, and I quickly start taking it off, hating Santiago even more for trying to deceive his relatives like this. “No, no.” Jimena frowns, shaking her head as if asking me a silent question, so I answer, “Our marriage is not….” I shut my mouth, afraid to speak freely in the company of their employees.

  Who knows what Santiago might do to them if he thinks they’re a threat to his plans?

  Jimena must guess my train of thought, because she dismisses the women gently. “Leave us alone please.”

  “Of course,” Aly replies, dragging Erica outside who, by the looks of it, would have enjoyed staying and listening to our conversation. “The car is waiting downstairs whenever you’re ready.” A few more steps and the door locks behind them.

  Jimena pats my hand, indicating to me she wants the ring to stay on, throws the box on the nearby couch, and goes to pick up the veil.

  Waving it a little, she straightens the tule and starts attaching it to my head, so I take a deep breath, deciding to spill all the beans and hope his sister will understand me.

  Everything I’ve heard about her through the years has been nothing but good.

  “Our marriage is not based on love. He blackmailed me into it.” Jimena stays silent, clipping the veil firmly, and comes back to stand in front of me, placing the tule over my shoulder and making sure my hair doesn’t get in the way. “He’ll kill my father otherwise.” I spare her the gory details of what happened to my family; she’ll probably find out from the news soon enough. “So this ring shouldn’t be on my finger. He wants you to believe it’s a real marriage. I can’t lie. Please help me escape.” I exhale heavily and expect her to either burst into tears or gasp in horror before jumping to defend me from her brother.

  Or maybe call their powerful father who can put a leash on his mad son?

  Jimena though chuckles, and then it transforms into full-on laughter. She bends in two, holding her stomach, her entire body shaking like she’s never heard anything more hilarious. She gulps for breath but then bursts out laughing again, the melodic sound of it zipping annoyance and despair all over me.

  “You don’t believe me,” I whisper, feeling incredibly stupid at my confession, and she finally straightens up, wiping away the tears sliding down her cheeks.

  “Oh, I do. Just the mere idea of Santiago doing something he doesn’t want is hilarious.” What? “So trust me, this ring is yours.” She checks her platinum diamond watch. “And we better get going before he barges in here himself and nags.”

  Is she out of her mind, or is madness bordering on insanity a family trait I wasn’t aware of? “He’ll kill my father,” I repeat, thinking that maybe she didn’t hear it right the first time around. “And he and his friends wiped out my entire family tonight! Everyone is dead!” I shout the last part, at this point not caring who hears me.

  Or examine how my feelings are mostly indifferent to them right now. I’m sad someone died and all, but deeper emotions?

  Yep, absent, which only intensifies my anger at Santiago, because he makes me face the harsh truth of my coldness toward my relatives.

  At this, Jimena’s perfectly trimmed eyebrows furrow, concern flashing on her features as her body tenses. “He actually said that?”

  What in the hell is wrong with her? “No, of course he denied it!” She relaxes, exhaling in relief, not that it helps me one bit. “Don’t you see my point? I’m his prisoner.”

  “My brother has his reasons for whatever he does.” My jaw drops in shock, and she grabs my veil, throwing it over my face so I’m looking at her through the tule, disbelief rushing through my system, because what kind of fucked-up logic is this? “The most important thing to my brother is his freedom.” Sadness laces the edges of her tone, her eyes filling with pain, and despite knowing better, my heart reacts to it, longing to know what could have possibly happened to Santiago to value his freedom so much.

  Even though it’s completely idiotic, all things considered.

  “When people want revenge, they do what they have to in order to win.” Or at least I assume it’s revenge. Either way, it rings of personal vendetta.

  Jimena hugs me tight. I still, not expecting the warmth radiating from her, and she squeezes me in her arms before whispering, “My brother marries you tonight because he wants to. Not because he has to.” She leans back. “Santiago also never lies. You can trust his word.” She steps back and motions with her head toward the door. “Now, we really have to go.”

  I should shout at her stupidity and ask where her solidarity is as a woman, how she can brush all my accusations aside as if they mean nothing and then expect me to happily go marry her brother.

  I should do all those things.

  Except my fight is not with her, but her brother, right? So how can I be angry at her for not getting involved and possibly putting herself in th
e line of fire for the sake of some strange girl she just met?

  Her words play in my mind as I turn around to look one last time at my reflection in the mirror.

  If I were to believe that…

  Then maybe Jimena is right, and he didn’t kill my family, which means he’s using my father as… bait for me to go into his trap?

  He’s a hunter, and I’m his prey that he plans to catch no matter the cost.

  True serial killers don’t let you decide who lives or dies; they do as they wish.

  Could this wedding be because… Santiago wants me, and he doesn’t know how to properly ask for a relationship?

  It doesn’t excuse what he has done these past hours, but at least it gives it a different spin… one I can…

  What?

  Accept and build a life with him?

  No matter his reasoning, this wedding is wrong in so many ways, but oddly hope slips into my chest, relaxing my lungs, and my heart contracts at these thoughts, the darkish reality changing into something else.

  Something curious enough for me, if I don’t have to hate the man for what he does.

  Besides, his sister loves and believes him unconditionally despite his dark nature. It must be a sign there is goodness hidden inside him.

  Or maybe that’s the loyalty Remi spoke of, and I just didn’t recognize it, because no one ever loved me unconditionally?

  Either way, one thing is crystal-clear.

  Despite darkness having black colors, it has shades of gray too.

  And somehow among the gray, I need to find answers to my question and hope I won’t go insane just like everyone else.

  Remi is right.

  Loyalty given to the wrong people might be suffocating.

  So maybe I need to talk with Santiago before the ceremony, understand what the hell is really going on, and then he’ll put a stop to this.

  If the man truly has a heart, he won’t make me marry him.