Chapter 5
“Love is a weapon.
A curse.
A tragedy.
But also…
Love is anguish wrapped up in pain and agony designed to destroy your soul.”
Jimena
Jimena
Three loud knocks echo through the space as I adjust the pin on my hair, huffing in exasperation when several thick locks of my hair still manage to escape it, and shake my head at my reflection.
Taking care of long and curly hair is a hell itself that requires patience I sometimes just don’t possess. “Come in!” I shout, slipping into my high heels and barely sparing myself another glance as I spin around, ready to greet whoever was unfortunate enough to drag their ass here and fetch me for the party that’s been in full swing for an hour now.
I strategically avoided going downstairs and mingling with all the people who’d ask a million questions and expect me to have the answers because one must follow two rules in high society.
Number one.
Always be polite since you have no idea how you might use the connection in the future, as those in power always network the best because half of the success attributes to who you know.
And number two.
Never show your true emotions to the public. Keep your inner turmoil to yourself while flashing endless smiles, even if your mouth hurts from it.
The powerful and wealthy hide their vulnerabilities, as every single one of them will be used against them should the need arise. A friend can turn into an enemy in the blink of an eye.
You always have to watch your back.
I’ve lived in privilege my whole life, and I’ll be the first to admit that I love it despite all those things. Everyone can argue until they turn blue that money doesn’t buy happiness, except it does.
Maybe not in the way we all expect, because it can’t buy you true love and genuine affection. However, there is a beauty in itself not to worry about tomorrow or struggle to survive in this cruel and unfair world.
“Tell Mom I’m coming!” I shout, reaching for a bottle of water, groaning at the cold liquid sliding down my throat, only to freeze when a woman enters inside wearing a stunning white dress skirting over her long legs that emphasizes her eternal beauty.
Her blonde locks frame her symmetric face as her brown eyes light up in amusement and joy. She places her hand on her hip and cocks her head to the side. “Darlin’, I don’t think this is going to cut it for Aunt Esme. She told me if we both don’t get our asses downstairs in about three minutes, she’ll expose the baby pictures to the public.”
For the first time since coming home, the tension truly eases from my chest.
Because my best friend is here!
“Oh my God! Luna!” Putting the bottle aside, I rush toward her as we both squeal and squeeze each other tight. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Greece, sharpening your sculpting skills?”
Compared to me, my best friend chose her passion from an early age, falling in love with a sculpture in my mom’s gallery almost ten years ago. She’s lived and breathed art ever since. On most days, it was hard to find her because she was holed up in her studio, so it was no surprise to anyone when she picked it as her career choice and moved to Greece to explore her talents.
Or ran away from her guardian.
I’m still not sure which one it was.
“When Aunt Esme called, I hopped on the nearest flight to attend. It’s not every day a family celebrates their thirtieth anniversary with their kids and friends.” A familiar sadness coats her voice, and I tighten my hold on her, seeping my strength into her because all this must be extremely difficult for her.
Which makes me appreciate her effort to cheer me up even more.
Her parents died in a car accident two years ago, brilliant engineers who worked for Dad’s company. Since she had no living relatives or any savings due to her parents preferring to spend their money on expensive things, my family considered taking her in and giving her everything.
Yet according to her parents’ will, they assigned some guy who owned a ranch in the middle of nowhere as her guardian, and she was required to live with him there.
Their decision made zero sense to everyone, and Luna tried to argue it, asking Dad for help to get some legal action and free herself from this guardianship. Except her guardian wasn’t just some rancher who was easily swayed.
More like a brooding billionaire rancher with connections all over the world who managed to impress even my dad, which never happens.
He is just five years older than us, so him ordering Luna around was hilarious and disturbing and provided a funny dynamic between the two.
“Is Vincent here with you?”
She huffs as she adjusts her dress and steps back. “No, thank God. Aunt Esme told me to extend the invitation to him, but I kept my mouth shut. I wanna enjoy my time in Chicago without his controlling shadow hovering over me.”
I roll my eyes at her usual anger and annoyance when it comes to his controlling ways that are so familiar to me. The men in my family can write a whole-ass thick book on helicoptering women they care about. “He’ll find out. You know that, right?”
She shrugs. “So? By the time he does, I’ll be back in Greece. And he won’t go there. We have an agreement.”
Right.
Their relationship is strange as hell, so I decide not to focus on it much right now because thinking about them gives me a headache. I guess that’s why it’s better to assign someone much older as a guardian to avoid such things. And while legally she might be an adult, she’s still dependent on him financially, and sometimes it seems he does everything in his power to keep her that way.
Like I said.
Strange and disturbing.
“We need to go.” Luna grabs my elbow and pushes me to the door. “How about sneaking away somewhere after the party to catch up?” I groan inwardly at her eyes drilling into me. “You can explain why you avoided Chicago like the plague and cruised through Europe, ignoring all my calls.”
As we get into the hallway and quickly cascade down the stairs, I mutter from the corner of my mouth. “It’s complicated.” She doesn’t know about my epic fail from last year, and just imagining her reaction makes me nauseous because she’ll want to be offended on my behalf. And if there is one thing my best friend cannot do…it’s keep her opinion to herself or hold back from unleashing her fury.
“Haven’t you heard? Complicated is exactly what I like.”
I have no chance to reply to her rather bullshit statement, considering she runs away from complications, as we finally reach the first floor, where countless servers rush through the hallway, wearing white uniforms while holding heavy trays with snacks and drinks.
They nod at me as they pass us by, and I sigh at the delicious smells filling the air. Our cook is probably going out of his way to prepare his best dishes and tempting all the guests to indulge in them.
Jazz music mixing with various hums of periodic laughter snaps my attention to the living room, and I already dread stepping inside. However, my parents’ patience isn’t absolute.
In fact, it’s nonexistent when it comes to me, and Luna must think the same because she pushes me gently once again, whispering, “Let’s go, and remember to smile.”
“Don’t I always?”
“Yeah, but everyone will stare at you tonight.”
“What?”
Why the hell would everyone stare at me tonight?
She ushers me inside, our heels clicking soundly, matching the drumming of my heart, and my eyes widen at the beauty opening up to my view, momentarily calming my nerves.
Orchids and roses decorate our spacious living room, creating almost a magical environment around us. The moonlight streaming from the open terrace doors and the brightly shining chandelier beg you to twirl on the dance floor, a view straight from fairy tales.
The atmosphere in itself makes you believe you might find true love here, while the wind slipping inside and slightly billowing everyone’s hair only adds to its charm, bringing some much-needed relief to our heated bodies.
People are engaged in conversations, wearing expensive clothes and diamonds, speaking about their status and wealth, while they snag champagne and wine from the servers who continue to place all the food on several tables spread in the four corners. The loud clattering from the right lets me know they are preparing to serve the main course in the dining room shortly.
We even have a band playing on the other end of the room, the live music pulling at the strings of my soul and washing me with calmness and even wonder as the notes are so perfect.
I swallow hard when everyone’s heads swing in our direction, zeroing their focus on me. Luna stands behind me, pressing her hands into my back to keep me from hightailing my ass from here.
I’m not a hermit who stayed hidden inside this castle or anything. Still, their attention unnerves me because I prefer to mind my own business without anyone studying me under a microscope.
That’s what they do, as my parents never took me to any gatherings in the past besides a very few of their close friends, so in a way, this is my introduction to the high society.
I shudder in disgust when some men who seem to be twice my age slide their appreciative gaze over my form while women quickly lose their interest, going back to their conversations, although they all have one thing in common.
Wide, warm smiles designed for me to lower my guard, but it won’t happen.
I’m inexperienced but not a fool.
At least not when it comes to this.
Grabbing a glass of orange juice from a passing server, I mutter, “It’s just the beginning, and I’m already exhausted.”
Luna chuckles, picking up a sandwich and munching on it. “My girl just had her debut.” She sighs as I glare at her. “I’m so proud.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m severely underdressed,” I deadpan, and she laughs even harder. “I knew I should have worn my ball gown.”
“Wasted opportunity.” We clink our glasses. “To us having fun later on tonight,” she says and it soothes some of my nerves.
Because yes!
I deserve a night out after this ordeal.
“To me withstanding this charade,” I add, and remorse blankets her features. However, before she can reassure me, my father’s voice booms through the space, making most of the people around us freeze.
“Ven aqui, princesa.”
My dad asks me to come to him, so I search the crowd for familiar faces and spot them at the other end of the room, standing near the band.
They both look gorgeous. Mom wears a lavender dress that hugs her figure tightly, bringing attention to her blue eyes and long purple hair, as Dad has an arm around her possessively. His three-piece gray suit makes women send appreciative glances his way, and I just roll my eyes at it.
What a waste of time to hope he’d ever look at anyone but Mom.
I go toward them through the crowd, only to halt when I notice another couple standing near them.
A redheaded woman grins at me, wearing a floral dress that highlights her generous curves and rather short posture, especially compared to her husband, who towers over her, his protective arms locked around her waist, daring anyone to upset her.
While she’s younger than him, he’s still stunning for a man his age, and the tabloids love to make up divorce stories about them because they think he could have done better.
Needless to say, most of them run out of business shortly after he puts everyone in their rightful places, never allowing anyone to disrespect her. He winks at me as he kisses his wife’s neck softly while she pats his arm, adoration written all over her features.
Their love story is my second favorite after my parents’.
Oh my God.
I haven’t faced them in person since that fateful night that ruined my world, and my cheeks heat as embarrassment washes over me, just thinking about how my actions would horrify them if they ever found out.
Luna notices my hesitation and asks, “What is it?”
Shaking my head, my throat too clogged to utter a single word, I reach them in five short steps as Aunt Calliope opens her arms wide. “Welcome home, honey.” She cups my cheeks, her brown eyes lighting up, and warmth oozes from her. “We all missed you so much.”
“Hi, Madrina,” I greet my godmother, giving her a tight hug right before my godfather snatches me away, catching me in his embrace. A chuckle slips past my lips. “Hi, Padrino.”
“Welcome home, princess.” Uncle Jacob kisses me on the forehead, tipping my chin up, and drops his voice to a whisper that wipes away all my amusement. “Don’t run away again.”
It’s so hard to hold his gaze because my godfather…he sees right into my soul, and it’s impossible to hide anything from him.
Which makes me even more ashamed of what I’ve done.
“Even if I wanted to, Dad wouldn’t let me,” I tease, but judging by how his eyes stay cold, he sees through my pretense, and Aunt Calliope’s concerned gaze only adds to my misery.
In some ways, they know me better than my parents, a fact no one likes to admit out loud as it shines light on the past that’s been heartbreaking and painful for everyone involved.
People who showed me the most support only for me to do the unthinkable, and the idea of them finding out is more terrifying than facing…
All thoughts fly from my mind when a powerful blast of energy hits me, the familiar buzzing in my veins matching the floor vibrating with synced, heavy footsteps tapping soundly on the marble floor as the crowd goes quiet around us.
“Oh my God. They’re here,” a woman whispers, excitement along with trepidation lacing her tone while several other women gasp, their awe practically whirling in the air and suffocating me to death.
Even the musicians stop playing as their eyes widen and they look at the entrance, swallowing hard while shifting in uneasiness because the newcomers presence alone evokes surrender and inability to move among most people.
A shiver rushes down my spine, my fingers curling into the glass, everything in me screaming to run away from here before it’s too late. However, the invisible pull forces me to spin around and face the four men marching inside. The aura of dominance and power emits from them in spades, promising chaos to whoever dares to come near them, as they have no mercy for anyone and prefer to destroy everything they touch.
They get whatever they want, and if someone stands in their way?
They punish them in the most vicious way.
They are all taller than six-foot-three, and I’ve spent most of my life tilting my head back and staring at them in awe despite most people finding their height intimidating and casting their eyes down in fear of facing their retribution.
That’s where their similarities end and differences begin.
I focus my stare on the first one from the right, wearing black jeans and a shirt emphasizing his muscled physique and pointing out how he has no problems going against social norms as he comes from rags, so whatever he has, he’s earned with blood and sweat.
His brown hair falls below his ears. His dark eyes scan the crowd as if studying everyone under a microscope and warning them at the same time not to trick him.
He has the ability to look straight into your soul and guess your best-kept secrets—I should know. He spent his teenage years comforting me and promising to kill everyone who made me cry.
A smile curves my mouth as warmth fills me at the sight of him. Once upon a time, he was our gardener’s son, and now he’s a brother to me in every way that counts but blood.
He winks at me as he snags a whiskey from a passing server, tension pouring from him, and maybe if I hadn’t known him for such a long time, I’d shy away from his stare as well.
His temper is legendary, and no one ever wants to be on the receiving end of it.
Remi Reyes.
My attention shifts to the next man. Half of his head is shaved with the rest falling over the side of his face, covering an angry, long scar on his cheek, and my heart squeezes in my chest because the knowledge of how he got it still haunts me. A barbarian trapped in a suit, whose ripped body is ready to erupt from it at any moment, makes him seem out of place during most social gatherings. However, his status urges people to invite him over as his oil empire thrives and prospers, making him one of the most sought-after businessmen in the world.
Women, though?
They tremble in his company and always try to escape, worse, use him to get to his friends, and just the idea angers me because underneath his hard facade…he’s a protector to the core and survived a cruel fate no child should have faced.
His dark eyes scan me from head to toe, and he lifts his chin in greeting, making me chuckle as my relationship with him…is a bit weird, to say the least.
We’ve never been close because he had his own little sister to spoil, Estella. She’s six years older than me and married her college professor a few years ago, which caused quite a riot back then. I have to give the girl huge points for going against everyone, her beloved brother included, to be with her man since he comes from a powerful mafia clan.
However, he’s been an integral part of my life while growing up, and his shadow looms over me wherever I go. The man might rarely talk to me, but he considers me part of his family.
And as such, I have his loyalty.
Octavius Reed.
My eyes collide with the piercing ocean-blue ones next, the same as mine. They soften for a second when he zeros his gaze on me and sends a grin my way, warming me from the inside out and reminding me that his relationship with our parents might be complicated…but his protectiveness and love for me could never be questioned.
The three-piece suit he dons points out his muscled physique, and his dark hair accentuates his tan skin and emphasizes the high cheekbones that bring attention to the perfect symmetry of his face.
I once heard women say that if people needed human representation of Greek gods, they’d have to look at him, for his handsomeness is haunting and mesmerizing alike.
His eyes stay cold, hinting at his cruel character and ruthless nature that’s almost legendary in our society.
And while I’ve never been on the receiving end of his cruelty…fear sinks into my bones just thinking about some of the things my brother does to those he deems unworthy.
Sophisticated and stunning, two words describing any member of our dynasty spanning centuries, according to various tabloids. Our wealth could buy a small country, and still generations and generations of people to come would live in luxury.
My older brother and protector.
He’d never raise a hand on me, but he will cut off any hand that dares to hurt me.
Right before he tortures the man in the most vile way.
Santiago Cortez.
Scorching heat travels through me, awakening every hair on my body while fire erupts in the pit of my stomach, and my hold on the glass in my hand tightens. My rapidly beating heart screams at me to show mercy to it and focus only on my brother instead of moving my gaze to the man who haunts my dreams and nightmares alike, consuming me with desire and madness that knows no bounds.
The air hitches in my throat when our stares collide, the world stilling around me and leaving me cold and alone in it, as my feelings only inspired one thing when it came to him for the past year.
Loneliness.
His emerald-green eyes flare, so clear and mesmerizing that one may gaze at them for hours and never get bored. They speak about forbidden cravings, filling you with anticipation and dread as you might never know what to expect from him.
His blond hair glistens under the light, framing his sharp jaw and the complete perfection of his features designed to seduce any willing woman out of her mind. According to most people, he’s considered one of the most handsome men anyone has ever seen.
And I’m not an exception, as devastating as it is to admit.
Compared to his friends, he’s on the leaner side. The three-piece suit and lustful atmosphere fit him like a glove, while the sinister smile on his lips charms any willing woman out of her panties in record time.
My insides clench at the reminder, the bitter taste filling my mouth, and I quickly wash it away with the sweet juice. Although it’s hard to ignore all the women who send admiring glances his way, desperate for the attention he so freely gives to most of them.
But then he refused to give any to me, so I guess he has some standards. I just happen to not meet them, and doesn’t that just stab an invisible dagger into my chest?
The only true manwhore among the four of them who left a trail of broken hearts, although he never promised anyone commitment or fidelity. The men in his family are known for a good time and disastrous marriages, so most women don’t even try to trap him in some kind of relationship. They just enjoy his time and never ask for more.
Not that any of the said marriages ended in a divorce, the exception being his parents. His mother found living with them unbearable and ran off with a lover.
Uncle Jacob is the only man in his family who never cheated and stayed loyal in his relationships, which allowed him to build a long-lasting love match with Aunt Calliope, who once worked as his son’s nanny.
Before she captured his heart.
Belonging to the exclusive jewelry maker’s dynasty whose pieces are displayed all over the world and cost a fortune, he is considered one of the rare ones who got his great-grandfather’s talents.
When he creates, it’s like magic. He finds the roughest of stones and transforms them into beautiful art pieces that should grace museums one day. Selling them to various collectors and rich people seems almost like a crime. Maybe that’s why he’s so selective when it comes to designing his pieces, and you really need to prove to him you deserve his creation and time.
No one ever argues with him as his ruthless nature gives everyone a wide berth, and they are very careful when it comes to his temper. That might seem easygoing on most days…but deep down, everyone knows one simple truth.
Once you get on his bad side, there is no coming back from it, and he’ll find the most agonizing way to make you pay for crossing or disrespecting him.
He doesn’t forgive, give second chances, or have compassion for whoever he deems useless and worthless.
An artist with a brilliant mind and a genius in mathematics that allows him to hold tight reins in his family’s business empire. Although to Uncle Jacob’s dismay, he refuses to ascend the throne and rule it.
My parents’ godson.
My godparents’ eldest son.
My brother’s best friend and…
The only man I’ve ever kissed.
And finally…
A man who brutally rejected me as I dared to assume he had a heart.
Maybe he does, but it will never be mine.
Florian Price.
They all have various tattoos covering their flawless skin. He has only one—right on his collarbone—the one that piques everyone’s curiosity whenever photos of him spread over social media and everyone finds another reason to gush over him.
The tattoo they all got together more than a decade ago, and the press loves to play guessing games of what it might mean to create all the ridiculous and mysterious stories just to make them even more attractive to the masses.
They are already among the most sought-after bachelors in the world. If they get any more attractive, society might not survive.
Three heirs to different thrones and one self-made king.
Each is powerful on their own; however, their true strength lies in their unity, as their combined worth allows them to be invincible to anyone and anything.
Men for whom rules and order don’t exist because they crush them under their thumbs.
Life is endless play, while women are nothing but interchangeable bodies.
They say there is no woman alive who can resist them, nor a man who doesn’t bow to them.
I read their tattoo.
In chaos do we thrive.
The Four Dark Horsemen.
Florian
If a goddess decided to grace the earth with her presence, showcasing her ethereal and mesmerizing beauty destined to corrupt all the men around her, for her innocence and kind heart serve as a temptation to the vices permanently residing in them that wish to coat her in their darkness and wicked desires…it would be her.
Her long black hair falls down her back in thick waves, the light shining from the ceiling along with the moonlight reflects through the wavy, silky strands that reach her bottom and call my name in ways that should be punishable by death as there is nothing innocent about them.
The perfect length to wrap around my hand and pull at it hard until her graceful neck opens up to my view, allowing me to leave my imprints all over her smooth tan skin designed to wear my marks of ownership.
Or watch blood trickle down her throat as I lick it off her, enjoying the whimpers and moans slipping past her full lips that should be swollen from my kisses, letting every male in the close vicinity know that this woman is claimed.
And whoever dares to think otherwise or test his chances awaits nothing but misery because no one touches what belongs to me without facing the consequences.
Unusual apprehension fills her clear blue eyes when she looks at me, but she quickly shifts her attention to her friend, who murmurs something in her ear, reminding me of the ocean during the heaviest of storms. They change their color depending on her mood but always blind me with their intensity and curiosity. They speak to the hidden and forgotten part of me that believes in something more than chaos and gore.
I’ve tried recreating them countless times in my studio, searching for sapphires that come close to the color of her eyes, but failed every single time.
No sapphire can compare to her beauty, which makes me addicted to her even more because she’s my greatest muse.
A muse that can never truly be mine, at least not right now. It doesn’t stop me from sending warning glances to several men who ogle her, and my fists clench, waiting until they meet my stare and swallow hard, turning away.
I’ll deal with them all in the future because my woman might not wear my ring, but she’s mine.
The innocence pours from every breath she takes, attracting all the men around her. She fools them into believing they can mold her into whatever they see fit while indulging in her mouthwatering body that has the power to evoke only one reaction.
Lust.
The lavender dress shows the generous curves of her breasts and hips, perfect for my deep thrusts, while her narrow waist makes me want to grip her hard as she wraps her mile-long legs around me, her eyes glazed with pleasure only I can give her.
This dress should be forbidden as it makes her a temptation no sane man could ever resist. Rage washes over me just thinking about anyone else imagining her in his bed, foreign possessiveness filling me and sliding through my veins, urging me to kidnap and lock her in my dungeon, feasting on her flesh until only one name remains in that pretty head of hers.
Mine.
I’ve committed an endless number of crimes over the years and never felt an ounce of remorse, for the darkness consumed me and spoke to me in ways nothing else ever could.
Temporarily, it muted the voices tearing my mind in two, slowly driving me insane.
Right at this moment, though, as I look at the woman who grew up in front of my eyes, following me around and calling me the best prince in the world for all the affection I’ve shown her…I truly embrace being a monster.
Because a good man would have let her go and never touched her despite her kissing me.
Her pure heart has tricked her into believing that what she feels for me is love, but like I said…I’m a crazy monster who will use any weapon in my arsenal to chain her to me.
She’s a forbidden fruit, and tasting her would destroy the heaven that is our lives and send us straight to hell, causing misery not to one but two families.
Then again, I’ve been in hell almost my whole life, but her…I would have spared her if I could resist her—but I can’t.
First, I need to catch and kill the fucker who hunts me.
Only then can I openly claim what’s mine.
Until then, though?
She better fucking know she belongs to me.
Because my control is held by a very tight but short leash, and if another man touches her…it will snap.
And no one will be ready for my wrath.
Including my beautiful and confused princess.