Page 125 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

He stayed deaf to all my cries through the years.

My father looks straight at me, catching my eyes, and I understand he knows.

He knows everything I did, everything I went through, and everything I’ll probably do.

He knows it all, compared to my mother and sister showering me with affection and love I don't deserve.

And I know it, because my father doesn't take a step toward me.

Doesn't try to hug me.

He rejects me.

At least in my mind.

A rejection for which I’ve punished him ever since.

Briseis

George pulls the car up to the mansion and mutters, “Have a nice night.” I get out as if my ass is on fire, because the silent game Santiago decided to participate in ever since he grabbed my elbow and practically dragged me outside to his staff’s curious gazes grates on my nerves.

I hate it with a passion; if someone is angry, they should just shout or scold but not give me the silent treatment. For me, this punishment is worse than anything else, because I don't know what to expect or how to protect myself if the need arises.

Without waiting for him, I march toward the house, when his husky voice stops me. “Wrong direction, querida.” Looking over my shoulder, I notice him fishing a cigarette out of his jacket, and he points with it at the garden. “We are staying at the guest house.”

I rub my forehead in confusion. Why doesn’t he have a room inside this massive house? I spin around and notice Santiago’s orbs sparkling with amusement as he lights his cigarette and takes a greedy pull, blowing the smoke around us. I wave it off. “I thought you promised not to smoke in my company.”

His brow rises. “I said I could be persuaded into it if you offer me something else in exchange.” He steps closer, his masculine scent mixed with tequila and tobacco twitching my nostrils and sending shivers down my spine. “Are you offering, my beautiful wife?” He opens his arms wide, the ash dropping on the asphalt. “Marriage is all about compromises, right?”

“Keep dreaming,” I huff in reply, crossing my arms and lifting my chin high, which only seems to amuse him more, since he barks a laugh.

He motions with his head toward the garden again. “Let’s go before my mother wakes up and decides to engage in another conversation that will end badly once my dad joins in.”

He steps onto the perfectly cut grass, strolling straight ahead between some bushes and several huge oak trees with their branches almost brushing the ground, so I follow.

“Ouch,” I mutter when my heels dig into the soil. Stopping, I slip them off and pick them up, moaning in relief when the cool grass touches my bare feet and brings the abused flesh much-needed relief.

I have to hurry to catch up with him though, as we are going farther into the forest, and this part of their house was never featured in any magazines, so I’m going in blind.

Spotting rose bushes on the way, I squeal and rush to one, wrapping my hand around a red one fully blooming. I lean forward to inhale the magnificent scent into my lungs. “This is so beautiful,” I murmur, pulling my phone out and snapping a few photos before a gust of wind has me shivering slightly.

I jump in surprise when Santiago throws his jacket around my shoulders, instantly warming me from head to toe.

He places his palm over mine and tugs it harshly, damaging the rose, and a gasp slips past my lips. “Why did you do that?” I catch the rose before it drops on the ground, brushing my thumb over the soft petals and rubbing it against my cheek. “You killed it.”

“Don’t know how I’m going to sleep at night with such sin weighing on me,” he replies. He takes the heels from me and softly ushers me forward. “Speed up, querida. We don't have all night.”

Still inhaling the rose, I trail after him and duck a little as he separates branches, giving us space to walk. I ask absently, “You have some urgent plans for tonight I’m not aware of?” Maybe he plans to go off somewhere with those two mysterious men who showed up earlier.

His chuckle as he pushes away several more branches lets me know he has plans all right, but they are altogether different. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, I think about a lot of things, Briseis. Which ones exactly? I have two scenarios playing in my head. One where I drag you inside the house, hike this dress up, and fuck you hard against the wall.” I halt my movements, looking at him as he stops next to me. Oak trees surround us, almost isolating us from the outside world. Owls are hooting in the distance, and the moonlight brightens the space between us. “Or ripping it, throwing you on the table, and pleasuring you with my mouth.” He drops his voice to a husky whisper, the wicked gleam in his sapphire eyes burning my skin. “Would you like that, querida? I’d even let you choose my cock or my tongue.”

As he says all these words, I feel a strange vibe around him, and as all our encounters flash in my mind, I come to a disturbing realization.

“Why do you always do it?”

“Do what?”

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