Meet Esteban, a carefree, 21 year old bachelor by day and bullfighter by night.
Since the night of his father's death, Esteban has made it his personal mission to kill every single bull in Espana, no matter what stood in his way.
But what happens...
There are a lot of pictures of capellas scattered throughout the chapter. They were so beautiful 🥰🥰🥰. You've been warned!
———
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Come on Esteban!!" I frowned, pulling Esteban's wrist. He dragged his feet defiantly as he stepped out from his side of the car. I had woken him up super early to beat the morning traffic and grimy reporters.
"You woke me up at 6 to bring me to the arena?" He yawned, slamming his car door shut. A bright red poster of him and thé ninos greeted our vision.
"Come on! It's more than the arena. I know you are nervous about the match tonight so I wanted to take you somewhere special."
"Nervous? I've done this a million times Anais" he shrugged, leaning against the car lazily. "I am not nervous"
"Well, I am nervous...for your well-being."
"Aww mi amor" he smirked, kissing my forehead with care. "Don't be. What's the worst that can happen?"
I hit his shoulder, annoyed by his nonchalant attitude. Esteban could die fighting those bulls but of course, he didn't care. He was too prideful to allow it.
"Come on." We walk to a small gate near the side of the arena. I unlatched the iron hook before taking him inside the hidden walkway.
I knew Esteban was not religious, but it didn't hurt to try and get him to accompany me.
"The capilla?" (Chapel) Esteban whispered, stopping in his tracks as he inspected the painted black letters above the nook of the doorway. "What are we doing here?" He frowned.
A few men lined up by the door, eager to pay their respects to the Virgin Mary. Some were dressed in their brightly colored matador jackets, anxious for the tournament that would soon commence.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
One man whose face I could not place stepped out of the dimly lit room. He looked into the horizon of the rising sun, turning his gaze to Esteban before smirking.
