Page 27 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

The white shirt covering his chest has several buttons open, and a leather jacket is thrown over his shoulder, showing off his muscled physique.

Sophisticated and stunning, two words describing any member of this dynasty spanning centuries, whose wealth could buy a small country, and still generations and generations of people to come would live in luxury.

A man who according to the latest gossip forced his own wife to marry him, and she’s been helplessly trapped in this union ever since.

Santiago Cortez.

I should have put all the dots together sooner, regarding his mother; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been surprised this much.

And finally my eyes land on the fourth one, walking slightly farther from everyone else as he scans the club like a hunter prowling through the forest and searching for his prey, ready to sink his claws in whoever he sees fit.

My heart stills inside my chest and then beats so wildly it’s a wonder it doesn’t jump out of me. A gasp escapes me as his full masculine beauty comes into view, less polished and refined than that of his friends, yet it slams so hard into me I sway back a little under the pressure.

His brown hair falls below his ears, bringing attention to his tan skin and nose, broken in a few places, which speaks of the rough edge to his temper and adds to his raw handsomeness and natural charisma. It tempts all the women around him to discover what hides behind the perfect image he presents to the world.

A light scar mars his full lips stretched in a thin line. The man rarely graces anyone with his smiles, and his silence alone communicates to anyone who stands in his way to never mess with him or there will be deadly consequences.

After all, he never plays fair, and if the opportunity presents itself, he will use it against you. He never lets people forget he came from rags, and whatever he has, he got it with blood and sweat.

Not born in wealth and privilege, but who got it nevertheless due to his sheer will alone. He’s faced so much shit from different institutions that a lesser man would have given up a long time ago.

He might have money, but he will never attain status among the elite, making them feel better than him, because he has no family name to back him up.

All doors open to him though, because his friends would destroy anyone who dared to not invite him to functions, but he doesn’t have their respect.

Yet he has their fear, fear he doesn’t hesitate to use whenever he wants to acquire another company or crush his opponent in the most vicious way.

Kindness, compassion, empathy.

They don’t exist in this man’s vocabulary.

His dark brown eyes stay hollow and indifferent on most days, never letting anyone see what’s inside his soul, and they flare into blazing fire when someone angers him, showing how truly ruthless he can be. An intoxicating combination making one wish to discover what secrets he harbors in his heart and what kind of past he had to face in order to build such strong armor around himself.

In contrast to his friends, he wears a black shirt, jeans, and leather boots that accentuate his muscled form. His six-pack is visible from the hard lines on his torso, and his powerful frame would tempt even a saint. A woman might just believe nothing could hurt her as long as he stayed close, protecting her like a brick wall.

Everything about him screams to run far, far away and never look back, for this man has downfall and misery written all over himself, yet all the women flock to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull he has on them.

Primitive sexuality oozes from him, sending warmth all over me and filling my mind with wicked thoughts that should be forbidden for how insane they are. Because this man must know how to touch a woman so she’ll burst into flames and will stop thinking just for a second.

Lust with such a man would be all-consuming and addicting.

A man I could never, ever indulge in, because it would burn me alive, and my ashes would scatter all over the world, never to be seen again.

Besides, a man like him would never look at a woman like me once… let alone twice or enough times to want me.

Dashing knights fight for princesses’ hands in fairy tales and not their less-than-stellar cousins.

Remi Reyes.

Three heirs to different thrones and one self-made king.

Each 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.

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