Page 96 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

“I’m very hurt, Santiago.”

An emotion crosses his face, but it’s gone so quickly I don’t have time to examine it. Instead, a too familiar grin tips his mouth. I’m starting to think his smiles are coping mechanisms he uses in order to hide his turmoil. “Lo siento, mamá.”

“For?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“For not telling you.”

“But not for getting married without me?”

Santiago aims his orbs at me as they sweep over my form, possessiveness shining brightly in them for everyone to see. “No. I wouldn’t be your son then, would I, if I apologized for claiming my woman?”

A beat passes between them, the wooden clock ticking loudly on the wall before Rebecca bursts out laughing and wraps her arms around Santiago’s waist, hugging him close to her. And although it’s barely visible, he tenses in her hold, looking slightly lost.

It takes a few seconds for his hands to land on her spine, where he pats her awkwardly before gently pushing away, freeing himself from her embrace and winking at her. It masks the internal struggle going on inside him, since the unreadable expression once again flashes on his features.

Rebecca sighs heavily and whispers, “Felicidades, hijo mio.”

My brows furrow at their interaction, or lack thereof. He grew up with loving parents; why doesn’t he know how to react when one of them hugs him?

His life inspires a lot of questions, but no one has answers for them.

“Gracias, Mamá.”

Who would have thought me begging my Argentinian roommate to teach me Spanish would be so freaking handy now!

All thoughts quickly vanish though when Rebecca spins around and palms my face so fast I barely have time to blink. “Welcome to the family, Briseis.” Happiness and acceptance fill her voice while her smile sends shame traveling through my system. My cheeks heat up at all the lies spoken tonight, because I’m not truly their son’s choice.

Just an obsession to his dark desires acquired in the middle of madness.

No one had ever welcomed me to any family, and one that did without any questions or scorn attached… ends up being the one I could never get close to despite the love they all share for one another.

Because this dark fairy tale will end someday, and I’ll be broken once again and alone. I already face potential heartbreak, because this stupid organ inside my chest beats wildly whenever my husband is near.

But losing a family who showed me kindness instead of scorn and accepted me while others throw rejection my way?

Yeah, it will be too powerful a blow to withstand.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I whisper, “Thank you.” Fumbling a little with my fingers at everyone’s gaze on me, I shift uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about the wedding.”

She pats my cheeks and rolls her eyes, huffing. “You don’t need to apologize. I know Cortez men better than anyone. If they put their mind to something, it’s impossible to stop them.”

Since our height is about the same, she hugs me close, rocking us slightly, and her scent envelops me along with warmth radiating from her. Her soft body cradles mine while she gently runs her hand over my hair. “I’m sorry about your family, sweetheart.”

Familiar pain echoes inside my chest, but I quickly shake off the sadness, because they were never really my family, right?

I do feel sad their lives have been taken away in such a vicious way, and I hope the police find their murderers, because I’m not sure what happened to those two awful men. However, when it comes to their deaths, I’m mostly dead inside, the calmness with which I accepted it surprising even me.

But maybe compassion lasts for only so long before you stop feeling anything toward those who hurt you, and you just attribute anything that happens around you to unfortunate events.

Clearing my throat, I reply, “Thank you again, Mrs. Cortez.”

She leans back, cupping my cheek one last time, before she says, “Call me Mom or Mamá, whatever you prefer.” Blinking in shock at her generous offer, I freeze, a thousand emotions slamming into me so rapidly I can’t even name them or breathe properly.

If you grew up without a mother, these words mean the world to you. Although a razor-sharp knife stabs into me, twisting from side to side, reminding me this is an illusion, a kindness this woman is showing me, because she trusts her son.

Without knowing how, the son deceives her.

Tears form in my eyes, but they don’t fall as I’m swept in Lucian’s bear hug, his arms squeezing me so tight the air sticks in my lungs. “Bienvenida a la familia.” He addresses the rest. “Let’s go to the dining room now. Dinner is ready.” And with this, he lets me go, placing his hand on his wife’s spine, ushering her toward the arch-like door while Santiago does the same with me.

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