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I have no real way of proving that Javier will stick to the terms of the deal. I might never see Niall again. They could tell me he’d been sent back to my father, when they might have killed him anyway. I won’t know for sure one way or another, and that alone will keep me to the terms of the deal. If I rebel, and Niall isn’t dead, he will be. Or I could live my whole life as Diego’s submissive wife, and Niall might be in the ground anyway.
That knowledge hits me the hardest, and I rush for the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I vomit up what little I’ve eaten today.
I sit on the cold stone floor for a long time, crying. With no one to hear or reprimand me, no one to stay strong for, I let the sobs go, hunching in on myself and wrapping my arms around my legs. I feel waves of guilt, pain, sorrow, and even regret, as hard as that is to come to terms with. I don’twantto regret my nights with Niall. They’d been perfect—passionate, pleasurable, and incredible for both of us. I’d felt and experienced things I’d never imagined I would, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d taken just as much pleasure in those nights.
What I regret is not telling him the truth long before it could have caused so many problems for us both.
I regret lying to him—the only man I’ve ever felt something like love for and the only man I ever will. I’d known then it must have been infatuation—who can fall in love in three days?—but now, after what he’s done for me, or tried to do, all I can feel is a twisting emotion that feels very much like the most painful sort of love I could imagine.
Everything has spiraled out of control. I know so much of it is my fault, but I’m angry too—mostly with my father for giving me to Diego. I would have gone to a man like what he’d promised to betroth me to, someone closer to my age, someone less cruel. Niall could have gone home, our indiscretion still a secret.
Our baby, if there is one, would live.
A fresh wave of sobs erupts from me as I press my hand to my stomach. Another regret—stopping Niall when he’d tried to reach for a condom. I’d wanted him and only him, wanted the possibility of some small part of him to stay with me, a living memory of our time together. Now, I wish I’d done everything in my power to stop it. I’m terrified I’m pregnant, afraid of what will happen, and grieving for that choice most of all.
Diego will never let me keep the baby, if there is one. And that loss, more than anything, makes me feel as if the last bits of my soul is being ripped to shreds.
All I’d wanted was a taste of freedom, but I’d ended up hurting so many people.
I’ve barely made it back into the bedroom after washing my mouth out and my face when the door opens. A guard stands against it, letting Diego step through the door and into my room. I go cold when I see him, freezing as I back up to the bedpost, and I can see from the look on his face that he’s enjoying my fear.
“I just came back from seeing what Javier did to your lover,” he sneers, a vicious smile on his face. “I’ve never seen such fine work, truly. Barely an inch of flesh was left untouched. He’s still alive, for now, thanks to your bargain. But I want to hear it from you now, aloud, or I will go back down and tell Javier to finish the job.”
Cold fear lances through me. I swallow hard, grabbing onto the edge of the bed for support. “I already said—”
“Come here, Isabella, and say it again. Or Niall’s life is forfeit. It’smethat you need to placate with promises, not Javier Aguilar.”
It takes everything in me to step forward, to cross the space between Diego and me. I want to cry, flee, fight, but instead, I put one foot in front of the other, crossing the room to my fiancé.
The man, my father, chose for me.
Obey, obey, obey.
Somehow, I don’t flinch away when he takes my hand. “Do you promise to be my good and obedient wife, Isabella?” Diego asks, his beady dark eyes fixed on mine, and I nod shakily.
“Yes,” I whisper, the word forced out.
“Do you promise to lie with me when I demand, to perform all acts that a husband might ask of his wife, to service me as I wish and as I command?”
I can taste bile at the back of my throat, and I wonder what Diego would do if I vomited on him here and now. I have a feeling I know, and I nod, biting my lower lip hard to fight it back. “Yes.”
“Do you promise to make all efforts to conceive, to mother my children according to my wishes, to obey the rules of my household, and care for it according to my wishes as well?”
It’s like repeating wedding vows, the most fucked-up vows I can imagine, and I want to yank my hand out of his, to slap him, to spit on him. I want all of this to go away.
“I do,” I whisper instead, fighting back the tears. “I will.”
“And you will prepare for marriage as soon as you’re returned to my home, with no further argument or nonsense?”
“Yes.”
“Very well.” Diego’s chest puffs up, and he smiles down at me. “I thought of taking you here, Isabella. Of forcing you to prove your word and bending to my will. But I think our wedding night will be all the more pleasurable when I see your misery at being forced to keep your word then. You can’t give me your virginity, but you can give me that.”
He lets go of my hand then and turns away. I almost let him leave without a word, but I can’t help the gasping words that leave my lips as he starts to pass the guard.
“Niall will live?”
Diego turns back to look at me. “If you keep your promises, Isabella, I will keep mine. Your lover will go home to your father and tell him not to meddle in my affairs again.”
And with that, he leaves, the door shutting heavily behind him and the guard.
I sink down onto the floor, fresh tears welling in my eyes. My future feels like hell, like an open pit of despair waiting to swallow me up, but I know there’s no fighting it, no turning back.
I’ll never have a chance to fully make it right—what I’ve done to my family, to Niall most of all. I’ll never be able to make up for what he’s endured.
But giving up and going back with Diego is a start.
