Page 58 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

Briseis will belong to me now, legally and emotionally.

And if she doesn’t like it, I don’t give a fuck.

I’ve never felt like this before, and until this fucking need is out of my system, she will stay by my side, willing or not.

Silence greets my statement before Florian clacks his tongue, puffing out smoke. “No, amigo. You either have a rare diamond or a regular stone anyone could find on the streets.”

Ignoring him, I fire my own question. “What’s this really about?”

“The Four Dark Horsemen rules, number ten,” Octavius says.

Well of course.

How could I have forgotten about that fucking rule we wrote because Remi insisted. The fucker was the only one who planned to marry someday, claiming love is a gift we should welcome.

Among us four, he’s romantic as fuck, although it never transferred to all the women he fucked.

With a loud scratch, Octavius finishes writing on the parchment we ordered, dipping his feather in ink one last time before putting a dot on it. “So nine rules in total, and we have to seal it with our blood.”

Florian picks up the knife, ready to slice his palm, when Remi’s voice stops us. “What about the women?”

“What about them? You can fuck whoever you want. Just keep it covered, because we don’t need little horsemen in our lives,” I say, shuddering a little at the idea of bringing a child into this world and subjecting it to all the cruelty it has to offer.

“Ha ha. Fuck you, Santiago,” he barks before elaborating, “If anyone of us claims a woman as his own, what happens?”

“Ehh, it’s up to you?” Florian supplies, as fucking confused with this bizarre conversation as the rest of us. Besides, who the fuck thinks about any of this at the age of eighteen?

“Except when a man takes a woman, he shares with her. She becomes part of you. It contradicts rule number five where we do not reveal the true deeds of the brotherhood.”

I groan inwardly at his poetic crap. He reads too many medieval ballads about true love. Florian runs his hand over his face, clearly not in the mood to deal with it either.

Octavius, always the peacemaker, finds his voice first. “Look, Remi—”

“No,” he replies firmly, not even letting him finish. “I won’t leave this to chance. We’ll agree on it right fucking now or this brotherhood will run without me.” He throws an ultimatum, and I get up, facing off with him, anger traveling through my system and filling my blood with adrenaline, my fists itching for a fight.

A constant emotion ever since I came back home.

“Who are you, Remi, to give me ultimatums?”

“Who are you to tell me I cannot protect my woman?” he throws back, and I’ve had enough of this shit.

“She doesn’t even exist. It’s a mythical concept you think you might want to have someday.” I hit him on the chest, and he sways a little before finding his balance quickly and delivering his own blow, sending me flying to the wall, my back hitting the stone hard.

“Fucking apologize!” he shouts, moving toward me swiftly, so I pull my arm back and punch him right in the face.

He stumbles back, pushing at the various desks in this study while the rest of the guys jump up. “Lo siento, Remi. Is this enough of an apology for you?” I grit through my teeth, each word laced with anger and sarcasm while a wide grin spreads across my mouth when I notice traces of blood on his face.

My satisfaction is short-lived though when he launches toward me, delivering his blow to my face as we fall back, but I regroup quickly, hitting him in the stomach, and he bends in two.

“Enough, both of you.” Neither of us listens to Octavius, and we continue to hit each other, the cracking sounds reverberating through the space while intense pain travels through my entire system, bringing up the familiar desire to destroy my opponent with words, because it was the only weapon I had at my disposal for nine long years.

“What is it, Remi? Want a woman of your own so she can compensate for your childhood?” I’m a fucking dick to even mention it, but when we talk about the burden that is love, I rarely stay rational.

Hit, hit, hit, and this time his knuckles graze my chin, snapping my mouth shut. “Shut up!”

I push him harder, and he falls on one of the desks where we continue to deliver blows, only for him to kick me hard, and as a result, we both tumble on the floor.

One second, Remi is on me, and the next, his weight leaves me while someone lifts me from behind.

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