Page 118 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

Every inch of his body screams pain and havoc, as if who he destroys next depends on his mood.

Their appearances and how Santiago stays unfazed by their presence lets me know they probably participate in the same dark stuff my husband does, and in such, I should stay as far away from them as possible.

I try to dart forward, wanting to go back on the dance floor or somewhere else just so I won’t be in their company, yet Santiago only tightens his hold on me, his hand running in soothing motions over my arm. “You know what they say. The make-up sex is the best.” Is he kidding me right now? Besides, who promised him sex anyway?

Although, I’ve been such a weakling when it comes to him, is it a wonder he expects things from me?

The blue-haired guy rubs his chin, his brows furrowing, as he asks, “Is that what it was?” Then his gaze lands on me, and he finally introduces himself. “Arson Scott. Congratulations on the wedding, Briseis.” His name rings no bells in my mind, but shouldn't it, since he is Santiago’s friend?

The other guy nods in agreement to his statement and extends his hand to me, palm up. “Callum MacRae.” Only to pull it back with a chuckle when he glances at Santiago.

Santiago takes out his phone from his back pocket, puts it to his ear, and when the person on the other end answers, he orders, “Sam, come here.” He hangs up, and then our eyes connect as he tells me, “She’ll keep you company while I talk with my guests.” His fingers dig into my skin, and he hugs me closer, making it impossible to think about anything or anyone else but him. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He presses his lips to my forehead and then pushes me to the booth, so I land there just as Sam appears next to us. “Eyes on her all the time. She leaves this place, you’re fired.” He issues his warning and then moves past the dance floor and hallway leading to his private room while the men give me one last glance before following him, but I think they do it only because they need to discuss something with him.

Otherwise, I think they never follow anyone’s orders.

As I stare at their backs, I wonder who those men are, but more importantly, why they are here.

If you marry a dark horseman, there won’t be a dull moment in your life.

And unfortunately, that includes meeting the scariest men in the country.

Santiago

The minute we’re inside the conference room on the second floor, I shut the door and point at the bar. “Anyone want a drink?”

“Yeah, because I came here to drink tequila.” Arson walks around and drops on a nearby chair while Callum sits next to him, sliding the ashtray closer to them as he takes out a pack of cigarettes from inside his jacket.

“Fair enough,” I reply, sitting on my chair and leaning back, my brows lifting. “Why are you here? ”

Arson flips the lighter between his fingers smoothly, casually lighting it up as Callum leans forward to light his too before going back to play with it, his constant toy ever since he created that fire when we escaped all those years ago.

Where Artem died and Arson was born in his place.

And got a taste for burning people alive while they begged him not to.

“So it’s okay when you come to our towns, but we need an explanation for a little visit?” Callum wonders aloud, sending smoke around us. He addresses Arson. “Smells like a double standard, doesn't it?”

Arson doesn't bother to reply to that statement, but then again, neither of us expects it. He’s a quiet predator who studies your every move before he strikes you where it hurts the most, to use you however he sees fit.

Friend or enemy, no one is safe in his company; maybe that’s one of the reasons I so love to rile him up and show my nose in New York when he’s repeatedly asked me not to, since it brings trouble with Lachlan.

Besides, I despise anyone forbidding me anything, so either way, it works.

Callum though is a different beast entirely; that fucker will smile and charm his way with anyone and anything before showing his true self, then torture someone so much they’d wish they never crossed paths with him.

Deadly, ruthless, heartless.

Who would have thought a quiet boy who trembled whenever the doors opened and cried after all the shit inflicted on him would grow up into a man whose one pleasure in life is destroying certain people?

A man who has stayed a loner and resides in Houston, not believing in brotherhoods or friends, preferring to rely only on himself. The only reason he’s even here is because he owes me a debt.

Arson’s voice brings me back to the present. “A wind whispered in my ear about your plans. You found Andreas.”

I lean on the table, grinning widely, although by the coldness lacing my tone, they can hear my true emotions on the matter. “Didn’t know Lachlan was such a tattletale.”

“I saw the file. It wasn't hard to guess who would need this information.”

Callum motions with his head toward Arson. “He shared it with me, and we thought a visit was in order. Don’t you agree?” He taps his cigarette on the ashtray’s edge. “Especially considering you married his daughter. I guess the clash at this point is inevitable. Any idea when it might happen?”

---