Devil's Desire {A BWLM Novella}

16

Athena

The days blurred together as the weeks flew by, a whirlwind of preparations for the wedding. I barely saw Santiago during the day, but at night, he made up for it-if you could call it that. He was insatiable, ravenous, sometimes taking me two or three times in a single night. There were moments when he held me down, his hand gripping the back of my neck moving erotically behind me, and other times when he folded me in half, the angle had him so deep inside that I was sure he was touching my soul. The intensity was terrifying, yet somehow, I found myself craving it. I would tell him how much I hated him, but he'd just laugh, pointing out how wet I was for him. It was humiliating, but the worst part was knowing he was right.

I couldn't reconcile it-my body's betrayal and the confusing tangle of emotions in my heart. How could I feel something for a man who had taken so much from me? A murderer, no less. But feelings aren't always rational, right? Most nights, after Santiago finally fell asleep, I would lie there, holding him, wishing I could chase away the darkness that clung to him. In those quiet moments, I would admit to myself what I could never say out loud.

A week before the wedding, something felt off. It started that morning when I tried to brush my teeth, only to gag on the taste of the toothpaste and end up vomiting. I chalked it up to nerves at first, but as I made my way downstairs to find Santiago, a growing unease gnawed at me. I bumped into Roman on the way, his broad chest suddenly in front of me.

"Careful," he said, steadying me with a smile. His green eyes twinkled as he held my arms, maybe a little too long. I looked up at him, feeling a strange tension between us. His gaze dropped to my lips, and for a second, I wondered-was he going to kiss me? Roman was undeniably attractive, with his chiseled features and sophisticated charm, but he didn't make my heart race the way Santiago did.

"Have you seen Santiago?" I asked, my voice breaking the spell.

He blinked, then shook his head. "He's in his study." The warmth in his eyes faded, replaced by something more guarded as he stepped back and walked away without another word. I watched him go, my hand resting over my chest, feeling the lingering tension in the air.

When I finally reached Santiago's study, I stopped short. A group of men in dark suits filled the room, their eyes flicking toward me with varying degrees of interest. They stood and bowed as I entered, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I straightened my spine, grateful for the red pencil skirt and heels that made me look more like the woman I was supposed to be-Santiago's queen. When did I start caring about that? Maybe Santiago had gotten to me more than I realized.

"Good morning, everyone," I said, my voice coming out strong despite the flutter of nerves in my chest. Santiago sat behind his desk, his expression unreadable. He nodded toward a man with gray hair and withered features, who quickly wrapped up the meeting.

As the men filed out, Santiago poured himself a drink, his tension palpable. I could feel the weight of whatever was bothering him, the same darkness that bled into our nights together.

"I wish you'd tell me what's wrong," I said, sinking into the leather chesterfield.

His back was to me as he set down the decanter, laughing bitterly. "Now you care? Half the time, you're the reason I'm like this," he muttered, his deep voice carrying an edge that cut through the room.

I couldn't argue with that. I'd been difficult, angry at everything he'd taken from me. After all, I had every right to be, but something had shifted, and I found myself wanting to understand him, to bridge the chasm between us.

"I just want to understand you," I said quietly.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke. "'Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,'" he quoted. "This underground world... it's ruthless. The families, they all want more-more power, more respect, more wealth. Our father... he prepared us for this. He tried to sharpen Roman, but our mother softened him. But in me... he saw the potential for ruthlessness and honed it." He turned to face me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "And I like what I am."

I swallowed hard, realizing that this life, this darkness, wasn't just thrust upon him-he had embraced it.

"What do you want from me, Santiago?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

He crossed the room and knelt before me, his eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't decipher. "I'm not going to apologize for what I've done because I don't regret it," he said, his voice raw. "I know I've taken things from you, but I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, Athena, just accept us and what we can become. The passion between us is real and burns bright. I know you feel it too."

I stared at him, my heart aching. Could I love him? Could I ever truly forgive him for what he'd done? The man he had killed, the life he had shattered-all for me. He said he would not apologize, and there would be no contrition on his part, and yet... here he was, asking for my love. It wasn't a simple request. It was a plea, a desperate hope that I could see past the darkness and find something worth holding on to.

"I-I don't know," I shook my head at his audacity. I couldn't believe he would ask this of me. "I can't just forget what you've done. But maybe... maybe I can try to be more... I don't know-agreeable."

"I'll take it," he whispered, his lips finding mine in a kiss that felt like a lifeline. He was desperate, clinging to the possibility that this small concession could grow into something more. And I died a little more inside as I returned his kiss. The duality tearing me in half.

As the kiss deepened, his hands moved to my breasts, but there was nothing sensual in the way he touched me. His fingers were clinical, searching. I pulled back, laughing awkwardly. "What are you doing?"

"When was your last period?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"The beginning of June," I replied, suddenly realizing my period was over a week late. Panic tightened in my chest as Santiago leaped to his feet, barking orders at Rodger to fetch a pregnancy test. He even called Roman and Melissa into the study, his excitement palpable.

But I couldn't focus on any of it. My mind was spinning, my leg bouncing uncontrollably as I tried to process the possibility of being pregnant. I wasn't ready for this-for motherhood, for the weight of raising a child in this twisted world. Santiago's world.

"We don't know yet," Santiago said to Roman and Melissa, but their voices were muffled, like I was hearing them from underwater. This was supposed to be between Santiago and me, not a family affair.

"Excuse me!" I snapped, glaring at the three of them. "I'd like this to be a private matter between Santiago and me."

Santiago nodded, dismissing Roman and Melissa with a wave of his hand. "You're right. This should be private."

I paced the room, my heart pounding in my chest. "What if I'm not pregnant? You just told your brother and sister before we even know. How do I explain that I'm not pregnant?"

"Relax," Santiago said, pulling me into his arms. He tried to soothe me, but all I could think about was the enormity of what was happening. If I was pregnant, this wasn't just about us anymore. It was about the life we'd bring into this world, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that responsibility.

Santiago held me tighter, and for the first time, I allowed myself to lean into his embrace. Maybe it was the fear, maybe it was the realization that I was about to become a mother-but I felt closer to him in that moment than I ever had before. I didn't want our child to grow up in a world filled with hate and indifference. I wanted to give them the love and security I had known as a child.

"I-I don't know how this is going to work," I whispered, my voice shaky.

Santiago kissed me like his life depended on it, and for that brief moment, I let myself believe that we could make it work. That somehow, we could find a way to navigate the darkness together.

But deep down, I knew our battles were far from over.