Page 97 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

He must read my dumbfounded expression and chuckles, his knuckles running over my cheek. “I told you my family doesn’t go against their own.” I open my mouth to reply, when my eyes widen at the dining room. A spacious oval-shaped brown table spreads right in the middle. Golden-and-red china holding various dishes are placed within easy reach of the five place settings. The staff stands by the door, holding plates, probably waiting for us to sit down, but all I can do is stare in awe at the ceiling made of colorful glass, distorting the streaming sunlight into a colorful display that dusts upon us, creating a fairy-tale-like experience. The terrace doors show fountains and their famous garden in all their magnificent glory, their beauty calling my name. My feet itch to slip the heels off and experience the emerald grass under my bare feet.

“It’s so…” The words fail me, and I sigh. “Pretty.”

“Designed by my wife,” Lucian says, pulling back the chair for her and Jimena while they sit, and Santiago does the same for me as we settle at the table, my stomach growling louder this time… and, kill me, they all start to laugh.

“I think we can discuss it all later. Maria, get the food here,” Rebecca orders, and instantly the staff start to hover around us, placing plates with steaks, beans, rice, and other stuff that smells so good my mouth waters.

Lucian’s next words make me momentarily forget about my hunger.

“A friend called me today. He told me the police are looking for you, so it’s only a matter of time before they appear on our doorstep.”

Panicked, I glance at Santiago, who finds my hand under the table, squeezes it lightly, and then lets me go, addressing his father instead. “What’s the reason?”

“They don’t think she did it or anything, but they are curious if she might know someone who did. Her dad can’t talk; whoever it was cut his tongue out.” I gasp and kick Santiago harshly, but he doesn’t even budge, only chuckling under his breath as if it’s fucking amusing!

That’s why he wasn’t worried he would talk! Oh my God, this is unbelievable. The awful man might not be my father, but him abusing me hardly makes him deserving of all the cruelties in this world.

Unless Santiago knows something I don’t?

God, now I find ways to excuse his behavior too? Why don't I just acquire a flashing sign that says I’m a fool for Santiago Cortez and be done with this internal war of mine?

“She doesn’t,” Santiago replies while Lucian helps himself to a bowl of potatoes.

“We know that, but there are a lot of bodies and no suspects in sight. So keep that in mind.”

Rebecca claps her hands, sending a warning glance toward her husband, who only blows her a kiss, before she zeroes her gaze on us. “Let’s not talk about murders and death anymore. My baby got married. I want to know all the details. Tell me everything!” she exclaims, excitement shining on her face while the staff puts a salad plate next me, and I thank them before they disappear, leaving us alone to dine. “How and when did you two meet? Where did you propose?”

Well, shit.

Groaning inwardly at her curiosity, I hectically wrack my mind for a good explanation or a believable enough story so that our hasty marriage makes sense.

Although that’s a damned hard job with three pairs of eyes watch me like hawks, catching the slightest emotional change on my face, and I glance at Santiago, who stays oblivious to it all, munching on his food as if it’s no biggie.

Arrogant jerk.

Hot, driving me insane, and passionate arrogant jerk who created this mess in the first place and apparently has no plans in helping me out!

Lucian’s chuckles break the stretched silence, and he digs his fork into his steak then addresses his wife. “Mi amor, let them eat first.”

“If I let them eat first, I might not get any juicy details!” She taps her fingers on her wine glass, looking at us expectedly. “So?”

I open my mouth to reply but wince when my throat becomes too impossibly dry to utter a single word, so I wrap my hand around my water glass, sipping it slowly, stalling the inevitable, only to spit it back into the glass when Santiago’s raspy voice finally answers his mother. “I blackmailed her.”

Coughing on water now, I quickly grab a napkin and wipe my mouth while my gaze glues to his parents, who blink at the admission, sharing a look as his father rubs his chin, his brows furrowing.

What in the hell is Santiago doing? Who admits to something like this? And besides, his father might end all his plans, whatever they are, with a flip of his finger.

Why would he risk it all?

“I see,” Rebecca finally says, lifts the glass to her mouth, and takes a greedy gulp before addressing her son again. “What did the blackmail entail?”

I still, anticipation zipping through my body, ignoring all the sounds around me and focusing only on Santiago’s voice, waiting to hear how the sneaky monster twists the comment he so carelessly threw.

Probably transforming it into some romantic crap where one blackmails another with their hearts and—

“She had a choice. I either killed her father or she’d marry me. She chose the latter, as you see.” My jaw almost hits the fucking table at his honesty, his words hanging in the air and provoking a shift in energy among us all.

This time, silence lasts a bit longer, interrupted only by Jimena’s silverware tapping on the plate. Lucian finally speaks up. “Jimena, did you know?” She continues to nibble on her rice, barely paying us any attention. I mean, obviously she knows the truth, since I blabbed it to her, but shouldn’t she be at least a little bit concerned? “Respóndeme.”

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