Vanessa "I think you're mistaken. Didn't Viktor already give you a taste of our strength? Or do you need another reminder?" There's that dark chuckle again that will forever play in my mind like a haunted music box. "By the way, how's that shoulder holding up? Seems like you lost a lot of blood." My eyes widen. He got hurt? Is that why I didn't see him at all yesterday? There's no way he's recovered that fast, that means he came to this battle vulnerable, with a huge crack in his indestructible armor. And it's all my fault. Both of us are going to die right here, and there's nothing I can do but watch. The realization rips my heart to shreds, causing more tears to streak down my cheeks. I wish I could apologize to him, and tell him that I now realize how grateful I should have been for his offer. For his protection. For his sacrifice. Maybe, through these tear-filled eyes, he can grasp the unspoken words. My hope dies when I notice the impassive mask on his face remains firm
VanessaAfter we're both breathless, he pulls away. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, and the blue flames in his eyes hold the lingering heat of desire. Holy shit! Words catch in my throat—a chaotic jumble of emotions and confusion. How do you even respond to a kiss that tastes like salvation and damnation all at the same damn time? He remains silent, yet his eyes communicate volumes, leaving me to question whether he was affected by that as deeply as I was. He turns and strides purposefully over to my fallen captor, and I trail behind, cautiously peeking over his shoulder. The gruesome sight unfolds before me. Both of the man's hands are severed, leaving behind bloody, mangled stumps. Strips of flesh, reminiscent of hamburger meat, dangle from the jagged bones that remain. Dark, viscous blood oozes from the wounds, pooling onto the cold ground as the man writhes in agony, his howls carrying through the alley. I clench my teeth, fighting the urge to throw up as Diego's word
Diego I swing open the door to the private room wide and bring Vanessa inside, carefully placing her on her feet so I can examine her body. I was pleasantly surprised when she didn't throw up after putting a bullet in that piece of shit's head, but it's evident that she has mentally withdrawn. I anticipated her attempt to escape, but once I saw that one of Viktor's men got their hands on her, I lost my shit. Originally, I hadn't intended for her to take a life, but observing the fight drain out of her, I recognized it as a necessary act. I refuse to let her surrender like that. The responsibility to break and rebuild her is mine alone. Those Russian fuckers would only dismantle her, both mentally and physically, until she becomes nothing more than a hollow shell. Today's events proved that we have a lot more work to do. We'll be getting married in just a short while. After that, we'll be spending two weeks on my private island. The idea of leaving my territory fills me with anx
Diego I tenderly stroke her head, my thumb working gently to wipe away the wet streaks on her cheeks. "It's okay now, Mama," I murmur, pulling her close to my chest as sobs wrack her body. Her tears permeate my shirt, leaving it damp, but in this moment, I couldn't care less. Her needs outweigh any concern for the clothing I'll likely need to change out of anyway. She stays silent, and I resist the urge to push her into speaking, even though I know I could. Instead, I cradle her until her breaths even out, and she appears to be okay again, if only momentarily. Repairing the damage from today will take time, but we can do it. She's strong enough. "The first part of your punishment is over," I announce in a hushed tone. Her eyes widen as she gazes up at me with bloodshot eyes. "T-There's more?" she whispers, her voice cracking. I nod. "I went easy on you. The shit you pulled today could have easily earned you twenty spankings. Disposing of trash is expensive, you know. But we
Diego I unfasten my belt and secure it tightly around her hands, ensuring she can't free herself. Then, resuming my seat, I tug on the front of her collar to draw her closer to me. Just as I requested, Camila styled her hair to retain its puffy texture, just the way I prefer. All for moments like this. I grab a fistful of loose hair, balling my fist so I can use it as a reign. "Open wide," I instruct. She obeys, parting her lips as much as she can. I push my cock past her pouty lips, inch by inch, until I hit the back of her throat. Then, I withdraw completely before shoving it back in. She gags, but hollows her cheeks, sucking me harder while I guide her head up and down my length. "Fuck. Your throat feels so good," I groan, my voice strained. As I increase my pace, she sinks her nails into my thighs, the pain only adding to my pleasure. "That's it, take all of me." My breathing grows ragged, every harsh thrust sending me closer and closer to the edge. Tears stream down her
Vanessa "He better be glad I had an exact replica of this dress ready to go," Camila mutters, her hands delicately reapplying the finishing touches to my makeup. I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt; she had to redo everything, even though I'm not the one who messed it up. A shiver courses through me as I reflect on my recent actions. It was a blend of hot, exhilarating, and sinfully wrong. If Camila had stepped in just a minute earlier, she would've caught me on my knees for her brother. The absence of my usual guilt and shame is...suspicious. While common morality dictates that I should be repulsed by my recent behavior, an undeniable desire to repeat the experience lingers. There was a strange feeling of empowerment when I had such a big, powerful man at my mercy. He appeared to enjoy it more once he took control, but next time, I want to it without his help now that I'm familiar with his preferences. "You're going to meet a lot of our family today. I didn't warn Dieg
DiegoNausea rises in my throat, a bitter taste mingling with the tension in the air. My eyes start tearing up unwillingly, and in the swell of emotion, I'm uncertain whether it's the emotional strain of the music or the weight of my grim destiny causing the silent cascade. I can do this, I convince myself. It's just the creepy priest and Diego waiting at the altar. Diego's tuxedo has been adjusted to perfection, or perhaps changed to an identical outfit like with my dress. The fabric of his tux flows elegantly, and his black hair cascades like a waterfall to his shoulders. Even with the lights shining brightly in the room, the darkness still envelops him, casting an eerie shadow. He stands there, akin to a dark god, an enigmatic figure defying the luminosity around him. It's fucking shocking that he hasn't burst into flames within this church, but I suppose that would include me as well, given the sins I've just committed. Diego's gaze holds mine, a magnetic intensity that seem
Vanessa The wedding is moved from the sanctuary to the reception area, where the room is nearly as large as the previous one. As the guests fill the space, finding their designated seats, a team of attentive waiters' weave through the crowd, presenting trays laden with an array of mouthwatering dishes. Each circular table is adorned with an elegant glass bowl filled with colorful Mexican candies. Meanwhile, the mariachi band continues to play covers of popular songs in the background. Surrounded by this many people for the first time since my mom's funeral, I sense my social energy depleting rapidly. Staying close to Diego, we navigate through a sea of greetings and congratulations from a multitude of strangers. Honestly, who are all these people? I understand Hispanic families are known for their size, but damn! I'm guessing there are some distinct cousins here or something. A fuck load of them. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Reyes," a well-dressed man exclaims with a broa