Page 78 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

“You went off the rails and almost got us all killed with your hot temper.” Santiago’s voice makes us swing our heads toward him as he emerges from the church and hooks his thumbs in his pants. “We could understand it after you claimed her. And yet...”

“The fact that you slept with her twin didn’t stop you from pursuing this marriage,” says Florian as he pushes from the wall, coming closer to me until all of them form a familiar circle around me. “Not an ounce of guilt either.”

I straighten up, already knowing where this conversation is leading, because I put them in an impossible situation with all this fucked-up shit.

The Four Dark Horsemen never lie to one another, but lying is what I’ve done almost my whole life.

Dread fills me, spilling more poison in my system, in the anticipation of their reaction that might change the balance of our friendship.

My best friend, the only one who never judges my obsession and gives me lectures that fall on deaf ears anyway, holds my stare and says, “Nosotros necesitamos saber.”

“What do you need to know?”

“Is she a bride we guard and protect as our own because she is an extension of the Four Dark Horsemen?” Florian asks, rolling up the sleeves on his shirt. “Or is she an interchangeable weapon you plan to use in order to destroy a man who stole your birthright?”

The cigarette pauses midway to my mouth as his question registers in my mind.

And then their behavior for the last few years becomes crystal-clear.

How Santiago always promised me his support during various business deals.

Octavius never argued with me about my obsession or constant trips to New York, despite trying his best to form peace with Lachlan and his allies.

Florian traveled with me frequently, always saving my ass from mistakes and keeping an eye on me, which I found hilarious, because Amalia never drove me so crazy I’d forget about common sense.

“You know,” I state the obvious, and laughter ripples between them. Amusement flashes on their faces as they look at me in bewilderment.

Santiago shrugs. “Por supuesto.”

“For how long?”

Florian steals the bottle from Octavius and replies before taking a drink, “Since we were eighteen.”

“I found out at eighteen.” And immediately formed a plan but not before wanting to see for myself the man responsible for all the lies surrounding my existence.

“Well, yeah. And we followed you when you went to….” Octavius trails off, the word hovering on everyone’s minds, but no one dares to utter it in my presence.

Because despite the blood relation to the demon who destroyed my life, I will never consider him worthy of the title he could have had.

He chose greed and the prestige of society over me.

“We thought you wanted to kill him.” Florian rubs his chin. “By that point, we all had enough skills thanks to this pretty face.” He grips Santiago’s chin, blowing him a kiss, and then laughs when our friend shoves him away, tequila spilling on the ground.

“Fuck you, Florian,” he mutters, albeit without any heat in it. “You just watched, though, and then walked away.”

“We figured you chose a different way to avenge yourself,” Octavius says, and I drop the cigarette butt, twisting my shoe on it, my mind still reeling from all this information. “Once this shit with Amalia started and we connected her name to Walsh’s, it was easy to guess your plan.”

I withheld the truth in order to protect them, because all their families ran various business ventures with him. My friends’ loyalties would have never allowed them to continue doing it, and I needed him to be successful and his empire to thrive.

So I could crush it and watch him suffer, because the society he so loves would shy away from him.

Sometimes, psychological torture is more agonizing than any physical wound.

And yet… I don’t see judgment on their faces, or scorn, even though we made a vow.

The wind whooshes around us, and owls hoot loudly in the otherwise silent night as we stand outside Octavius’s house.

He flips the knife between his fingers before he settles the tip on his splayed palm, slicing it and drawing blood as we all watch him in confusion. “Let’s make a deal and seal it.” He extends his knife to Florian, who picks it up and cuts his hand too without question.

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