Cristiano’s footsteps neared.
“Wait,” I said into Diego’s neck. “Espera. Wait.”
Diego tensed, then loosened, and he breathed a loud exhale near my ear. “My girl,” he said, ghosting his lips over my temple. “My savior. Thank you.” He rubbed my back briefly, then slid his hands to my upper arms. “Turn and go to him.”
“I can’t.” I hiccupped. “I can’t do it.”
“Strength, princesa.” Diego squeezed my shoulders affectionately, then spun me around.
Cristiano stood halfway down the aisle, tall and imposing, not a hair out of place—and utterly lacking in any softness, understanding, or empathy for what he demanded of me.
I stared at him from under wet lashes heavy with mascara. What a farce, getting made up. And in my mother’s dress. It was profane, a sin against her sacred day with my father. “Why?” I asked Cristiano.
“I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you.’” Cristiano walked closer to us. “Diego would be halfway to the grave if not for me.”
“His life is in danger because of you. And you don’t need me to pardon him. Look inside yourself for forgiveness, Cristiano. You were human once—he is your brother.”
“He ceased to be anything to me long ago—and now, he is nothing to you. He deserves to die. All I did was push fate along.”
“You can stop it.”
“My price is very, very steep, Natalia. I can’t be expected to let him go unpunished, can I? So he can make an attempt on my life?”
By Diego’s words pleading me to hold on just now, he did have plans. And Cristiano l likely knew it.
Cristiano stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down on me. “Didn’t I warn you about him? You should’ve listened. At least with me, you’ll be safe.”
“Safe? With you? You’re forcing me into marriage.”
Even as I straightened up, Cristiano seemed to grow bigger. He filled the room, demanding everything of the space around him. “There’s always a choice, Natalia. If there wasn’t, I’d throw him to the wolves and take you anyway. Who’d stop me? Diego? He’s giving you up. Your father? He isn’t here. I can easily take you, but I’m offering a choice. Come with me willingly, or go and say your good-byes.”
Without moving from his post, Max said, “The car is here, boss.”
Cristiano checked his phone. “Vámonos.”
I shut my eyes and tears spilled down my cheeks. There was no more time, and no more I could say except my decision. “I’ll do it,” I said in darkness, then opened my eyes.
With slow, deliberate movements, Cristiano slid his phone in his jacket pocket and closed the space between us. “A lesser man would make you beg for another chance—I already took the deal off the table. But a simple ‘please’ would go a long way.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms until they throbbed. “I won’t beg.”
“Oh, you will, mariposita. But I can be fair. I’ll go first.” Our gazes met, and for a moment, it was just the two of us. “Marry me, Natalia. Please.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“I’m not.” He stared into my eyes, seeming almost unsettled, as if battling something inside himself. “I’ve not made this arrangement lightly. I would like very much to call you my wife.”
“Then you will. But I want to hear, from your mouth, what will happen if I don’t. Diego has said it. You should have to as well.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Now you’re being smart. It’s only good business to hear the terms of an agreement.”
“This is my term—promise me you won’t hurt my father.”
“I have no quarrel with him.”
“Swear it on my mother, who placed all of her faith in you.”
He pressed his lips into a line. “You have my word.”
Perhaps it was foolish to believe him, not that I had much choice, but I took him for his word.
One corner of his mouth rose into a crooked, sinister smile as he looked to Diego. “Now for the other terms you failed to mention to her.”
I glanced back. Diego’s shrewd green eyes were fixed on his brother. I could read the hatred in them. Cristiano wanted to torture him, and it was working.
Diego loosened his tie and turned his head out the window.
“At a loss for words? I’m happy to fill her in.” Cristiano rubbed his jaw and took a few paces to one side, stopping at the end of one pew. He turned to me. “Diego has confirmed what you shared with me the other night—that you’re waiting for marriage.”
Diego put a hand to my back, spreading his fingers between my shoulder blades, a warning to keep my silence. Cristiano thought I was a virgin. “Why does that matter?” I asked.
“Because denying him brings me pleasure,” Cristiano said. “I’ll be your first. Your last. Your only. So there’s no question—the deal is contingent on the consummation of our marriage.”