Page 44 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

No amount of begging or pleading will help me, so I don’t even bother, and part of me hates myself for not seeing this side of him. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt this much, and I wouldn’t have to put on a strong front when the prospects of facing a real-life serial killer almost triggers my gag reflex.

I let him….

No. Not the time nor place.

I can focus on my broken heart that was stupid enough to believe he had a genuine interest in me later.

If I live long enough to examine it, that is.

“That’s a good question. Isn’t it?” He addresses someone behind him, and only then do I notice three more men lounging on different seats, each one of them with a drink in hand.

The Four Dark Horsemen.

“I like the lack of hysterics,” Octavius says, rubbing his scar with the glass, an odd expression crossing his face. “Not in the mood to hear a woman cry.”

“Such a pleasant surprise,” Remi agrees, lighting up his cigarette and breathing out the smoke. “An anomaly to all the other victims around here.”

Florian puts his hand on his chest, mockingly crying out, “Please help me. Please don’t kill me.” He chuckles. “So fucking tired of that shit.” He winks at me, saluting me with his glass. “To you, Briseis.”

“Choke on your drink, Florian.”

Collective laughter fills the arena after my sneer, these despicable humans finding my words amusing.

How could one possibly fight such insanity and madness that knows no bounds or compassion?

My hands tremble when fear slams into me hard, sticking the air in my lungs, and I fist my hands, resting my butt on the heels of my feet and keeping my composure while hectically searching for a way out and not finding any.

The arena has no doors leading anywhere from my point of view, the darkness hiding most of what’s going on at its borders, as light doesn’t fall there. Not to mention the four men watching my every move, the amused audience ready for the entertainment of the night to see me fight for my life in this arena before they make a verdict about my fate.

Pulling one of the chains, I trail my gaze after the wave it makes to see it stuck to the floor in the far corner, and it’s the same with the other one, not giving me wiggle room to reach the weapon table and destroy the lock on these shackles.

And then maybe injuring or killing one of them in order to escape.

Oddly enough, guilt doesn’t even cross my mind at such dark thoughts.

“Fool’s job.”

I grit my teeth, annoyance sparking through me at him so easily guessing my intentions.

Santiago hops over the banister inside the arena, the heavy thud of his landing bouncing off the walls, and walks toward me, swirling his finger in the air. “Welcome to my domain, Briseis.” He opens his arms wide. “Where terror and pain rules.”

“What do you want from me?” I ask, ignoring his statement, holding on to my sanity by a thin thread while fear pushes to the surface. It’s urging me to start freaking out instead of staying in limbo, putting images of my dead family in my head, not letting me shy away from the gory pictures. “You killed my family,” I whisper, my voice trembling this time while my heartbeat speeds up at the devastating truth. “That’s why you were there.”

He might have saved me from Terry, but only because he ordered my kidnapping, and Terry didn’t listen properly. I’m his latest toy, after all, and no one fucks with what Cortez wants.

Santiago tsks, coming closer to me, and snatches a blade on the way, the steel glistening in the light and bringing attention to its sharp tip. Automatically, I wrap my arms around myself, trying to protect myself from whatever horrible thing he plans to do to me.

“Hard to call people who hurt you and treat you like shit family.”

His words bring much needed rage within me, putting a lid on the fear and letting me face him with my chin high. “They didn’t deserve to be slaughtered, you bastard!” I shout, lunging toward him, but I’m pulled back to my place again by the chain.

And freeze when the tip of the blade presses on the underside of my chin, making me hold my gaze with his as he cocks his head to the side. “I always said stupidity will end humankind.” My brows furrow at his unexpected change of subject, and I gasp when the tip travels to my cheek and then slides down to my neck, hovering above the artery. “I’m starting to think I was wrong. Compassion.” The tip goes back to my cheek, tapping on it lightly and spreading even more goose bumps on my skin. “They abused you and never loved you all these years, yet you display so many emotions for them.” He leans closer, rubbing my lips, and I twist my head to the side, hating him, only to whimper when he grips my chin painfully. “Ultimately, your heart will be your downfall, querida. Turns out, even the devil’s spawns have them.” Hatred laces his last words, rage flashing in his eyes, and the tip of his blade nicks a bit of my skin, though not enough to draw blood or do any permanent damage.

Does he hate my father so much he barely controls himself with his anger? What could he have possibly done to him to warrant such hatred?

Swallowing roughly, ignoring the ache in my throat, I lick my lips before replying, wanting to pull him out of his hate, as it might cost me my life. “I’d rather die a compassionate human than be a heartless monster.”

He chuckles, cupping my cheek before sliding his hand into my hair, fisting it hard and pulling me forward so I have no choice but to follow the command, standing uncomfortably under the chains. Just one move forward will tug me back to the floor. “No need to be so dramatic, querida. No one wants you dead.” I blink in confusion at his words, and he rubs the line between my brows, my teeth gritting at his touch, but I stay put, wanting to hear what he has to say next. “Play by my rules, and you’ll be free.” His breath fans my mouth as he tilts my head back, our lips inches apart. “Or don’t, and you’ll be free.” He lets go, and I fall on the concrete, stilling the cry of pain.

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