Page 119 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

“If he married his daughter, it means the fucker wants an heir, doesn't he?” Arson asks, flipping his lighter through his fingers again before flicking it on and staring at the blue and orange flecks entwining. “So I guess one or two months… depends how hard he plans to work on it.”

Callum snorts, pressing the butt in the ashtray. “What a great plan. Ruthless too.” He clacks his tongue, the sound grating on my nerves, and my hand fists.

“Lives up to his reputation. In chaos do they thrive.” Arson mocks the dark four motto and leans closer, dropping his voice as he says, “Achilles was ready to give up war when they took Briseis from him. She must be disappointed.”

“Not living up to her namesake. What a pitiful fate indeed.”

“Unless she doesn't know about the father dearest.”

“Hmm… interesting point.”

I thought I owed them one for all the shit I pulled on them through the years while I loved fucking around with their personas, but my patience lasts only so long.

Fuck. That. Debt.

“Enough. What do you want?”

Callum drums his fingers on the table. “Personally, we don't want anything. Do you?”

My brows furrow in confusion while I’m trying to process what he means by that. Surely they didn't show up in my town to offer me any help?

They barely leave their cities unless something urgent happens, and as they’ve proven to me, they don't consider me an urgent matter.

Arson must read my silent question, because he answers. “He’s sick, and we’d personally love to indulge in this mission so we can end him and all his acquaintances.” He waits a beat before adding, “And help you.”

“In short, we’re here for you. Just tell us if you need anything,” Callum says while they both stare at me, each more closed off than the other, which doesn't allow me to gauge their true intentions. So I gaze right back with my indifferent expression so they won’t notice how their statement shocks me.

Their behavior even after our shared captivity implied nothing but distaste for my person and any memories, let alone the desire to spend time in my company. Whenever I butt into their business, they’ve had to accept my help but never flat out asked for it.

And now they want to repay a debt and are willing to extend an olive branch?

How fucking hilarious and sad at the same time.

“Compared to you, I believe in friendships and connections. I have my dark horsemen to watch my back.” I get up, the chair’s legs scraping against the floor, and slap my splayed palms on the table, looming above them while my voice becomes icy cold. “My revenge is twenty-four years in the making. Nothing will stop me or stand in my way. Do not interfere in my fight.” Stepping back, I tell them, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, and whatever you have tonight is on me. Want to meet up after that and go down memory line? I’m game. Want to torture some sick fuckers in my town? Be my guest. But don’t ever speak about Andreas. I don't need help where he is concerned.” Spinning around, I march toward the door, and my hand wraps around the knob, when Callum’s words halt my movements.

“The dark horsemen didn't live in hell with you. They will never understand your desire for vengeance.”

“It doesn't matter. They will stand by me.” This I know with absolute certainty, because if years have proven anything to me… it’s that our unity is unbreakable and unshakable.

I glance at him over my shoulder, but my eyes shift to Arson, who speaks up. “That they will do. However, they don't know how important that drive inside you to destroy the enemy is. You cannot fail, Santiago. And only the three of us know why.”

“We’re one phone call away. Just know it,” Callum says, and thousands of memories pop in my head, one more horrid than the other, playing like a colorful movie in my mind, showcasing our years at Edward’s mansion and the hideous crimes done to us.

An endless nightmare leaving such deep scars they never fade away.

The type of scars that can only be understood by someone who lived through it.

These scars will never heal, but they might stop festering over and over again, if you finally punish the one responsible for them.

And this is indeed something they can understand and my dark horsemen will never know.

“Gracias,” I finally say and wink at them, pushing all my emotions away and giving the world back the carefree Santiago who can fuck you up with a smile. “But I won’t need it.”

This time, I walk out of the room, leaving them sitting alone, and as I dart toward my wife, for the first time in my life, I understand why they never welcomed me in their towns.

Sometimes, the memories become so vivid I relive every single thing.

And sometimes, the pain that comes with it is so strong once again I don't know how to survive it.

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