Page 63 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

“Little help here, amigo?” I ask, wiggling my shovel in the air, but he shakes his head.

“No way. You lost the bet, and that’s why it’s your job.”

I roll up my shirt sleeves, wrap my hands around the shovel, place my foot on the lip, and push it really hard, exhaling in relief when I break ground and start to dig out a deeper hole with Florian’s help, who is already sweating like a pig.

“Funny how it was your idea, yet we’re the ones doing it,” Florian says back, wiping his brow and continuing to help me while I grit my teeth at Octavius’s laugh.

If it wasn’t for the fact that we’ve been friends since… well, since we were born, according to Mom, I’d go and punch him like Dad taught me, because every man should know how to protect himself and his family if the need arises.

But we’re all part of the precious four, the nickname our parents gave us all due to how we all stay together no matter what happens, and if someone picks on one of us, he has to face all of us.

Although, most of it applies to Remi; his family works as the help in my mansion, and due to it, he stands out in our private school.

After all, the three of us come from the wealthiest families in the country with private tutors and the most expensive things at our disposal.

One of the reasons why, according to most people, we use way too mature language for our age, but what could they say if we read old classics by the time we turned five?

And since we’re inseparable with Remi—he’s my best friend in the whole wide world—my parents decided to pay for all his education too, so he wouldn’t be left out.

“I won the bet fair and square. And you’re sore losers.”

“Can you all shut up?” Remi hisses a few feet away from us, peeking through the rose bushes Mom planted in the garden and keeping an eye on the territory, making sure none of the guests are headed this way. “If you want to bury this thing, you have to be quiet.”

Florian frowns, digs some more before pointing a finger at Octavius. “I hope you’re happy about this. If Santiago’s parents find us here destroying their precious tree, we’re in big trouble.”

I shake my head at this, staying quiet, not wanting to disturb their illusion, although what they say isn’t true.

My parents would never do anything to hurt me or my friends, because they love me so much. Daddy once said if anyone hurts me to come right to him, because he’ll fix it.

I glance toward Octavius who, even though he grins widely, winces every time he adjusts his back against the oak tree, trying to find a comfortable position, and my stomach flips, just imagining what I would find if I lifted his shirt.

Whenever his stepfather comes back from business trips, Octavius earns new scars, the angry puckered slashes marking his skin and not going away for weeks at a time. When I see them, my fists clench, and I want to run to Dad to tell him about all this so maybe he can punch the bad man, but Octavius always stops me.

He gives me the same explanation every single time.

“He’s a good man, and Mom loves him. Not to mention, he loves Estella. He hurts me only when he’s drunk, because my looks remind him of my father. He doesn’t like to remember Mom had a life before him.”

None of what he says ever makes sense to me. It seems all so complicated, but I keep my mouth shut, hoping one day it will stop.

After scooping a generous amount of soil and throwing it to the side, I stab the shovel into the ground where it stands still, and I dust my hands. “I think we’re done here. It’s deep enough for the box.”

Florian nods and motions for Octavius to get up and bring the box lying next to him. It rattles loudly as he walks to us. Remi gives one last glance around the perimeter before joining us, and we open the box, studying the objects inside. “What’s all this?” he asks, rubbing his chin.

“All of them represent us.” I point at the blue sapphire given to me by my grandfather. “This is me.” I slide my finger to the red ruby I asked Octavius to bring. “Esto es Octavius.” Then I shift my focus to the yellow diamond, glistening the most among the stones. “Esto es Florian.”

“And the ordinary rock este soy yo?” Remi chuckles, albeit frowning. He crosses his arms and steps back from us, a move we’re all familiar with.

The minute our social differences come to light, he always becomes guarded, ready for us to kick him out of the group and take it without crying.

We would never, ever do it though, because without Remi, there is no us.

“It’s not an ordinary rock, Remi. It’s a not-yet-carved emerald. Stole it from Dad’s office,” I rattle the box a little, and the gemstones bounce in the air then drop solidly back in. “We’ll bury them here as a sign of devotion to our friendship.”

“Woohoo!” Octavius exclaims and then groans when he raises his arm too much.

Florian shakes his head at him and murmurs quietly, although we still end up hearing him. “We’ll have to take care of your back after this.”

“I have supplies in my room. No one’ll be searching for us there,” Remi says before placing the lid back on the box and closing it. “So let’s do this, because I’m starved.”

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