Page 12 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

“You are not!” Steel laces her tone. She drops her cigarette and bangs her fist on the table. “You will show your face and leave!”

How convenient for them all.

The naïve fool in me played by their rules, because I thought someday I’d earn their love, but since this will never happen, I no longer wish to sacrifice my life at the altar of their selfishness. “No, Grandmother. I will stay here. Those are my conditions.”

“Your conditions?” she spits, rising from her chair and then falling on it again, breathing heavily, and for a second, I pause, not sure what to make of it.

She has never shown any sign of weakness to me before, and I wonder if the political career she wants for Dad really hides the fear of her dying soon, and with this she tries to ensure a good future for the Dawson lineage.

“I’ll play my part, smile brightly, and act accordingly, but only if I can stay. Otherwise, prepare for the world to know the truth.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, coughing a little before taking a large sip from her glass. “You think you can threaten me with this however you please?”

I shrug. “Why not? You’re the one who gave me such a weapon.”

“Ungrateful brat,” she says, hatred evident in every word, and despite how I’ve built protective walls around my heart, it still contracts painfully in my chest, reminding me of the scars on it that will never heal.

And the little girl still living inside me who craves the acceptance and love of her family.

“I should have told them to send you to foster care when your mother dropped you at our doorstep. The minute I saw those different eyes of yours, it was God’s way of hinting to me you’d bring trouble.”

At least she no longer calls me a witch.

“When a scientist invents a time machine, I’ll let you know. Maybe then you can fix this.” I wiggle my hand between us and announce, “Think about my proposition, Grandmother.”

She gets up swiftly and sways a little but keeps her posture straight, her hands fisting, while she practically shakes with rage and anger. I expect her to grab her cane and beat me with it. Wouldn’t be the first time either. “Fine. Play by the rules and you can stay in Chicago.”

“Splendid.”

I blow her a kiss, and she grits her teeth. “I regret the day you were born, Briseis.”

What can I possibly say to that?

With one last glance her way, I spin around and march toward the hallway, wiping the few tears sliding down my cheeks and plaster a bright smile on my face, ready to face the staff or anyone else I might encounter on the way to my room.

People are always afraid of tears, not knowing what to do with the person who cries or how to help them.

Funny thing though that not many know?

Smiles are far more dangerous.

For some of the brightest smiles cover some of the most piercing pains.

And only those who have lived in hell can truly attest to that.

Chapter Four

“When a man has a choice between endless glory and forbidden love…

what does he choose?”

Briseis

From Flora’s diaries

10 October

Today, I fell in love.

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