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A Seat at the Table
Last Updated:
2025-03-01 15:44:24
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Fernando's POV The private jet touched down on the airstrip with the same grace I had grown accustomed to. Smooth. Precise. Controlled. Just like I demanded everything around me to be.The engines went into silence as the cabin door opened, letting in the sweet America air. Santiago’s estate wasn’t far from here—about a forty-five-minute drive through the winding roads that led into the hills.As soon as we arrived, I stepped out first.Custom black Italian leather boots hit the tarmac with a soft thud. My tailored charcoal suit clung to me like armor, and the sunglasses did little to hide the storm that still brewed behind my eyes. The aftermath of England still simmered in my veins. Michael followed closely behind, stepping down the metal stairs with less grace than usual. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the stiffness in his jaw. He hadn’t said much since the plane lifted off.I hadn’t either.We both pretended not to notice the distance forming between us.Sant
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Michael’s POV The black car came to a stop near Santiago’s private jet, its turbines humming softly in the morning fog that still lingered over the tarmac. With a deep breath, I stepped out of the vehicle, the weight of everything that had happened in the last few hours heavy on my shoulders. The cool English air brushed against my face, a cruel contrast to the fire burning in my chest. Fernando stepped out next, his expression unreadable, his posture commanding as always. His voice cut through the silence.“Michael. On the plane. We’re leaving. Now.” I blinked, taken aback. “What about Marlo? And Mortis? Emilio?”He didn’t answer. He walked ahead, his boots sounding on the ground as if to punctuate the fact that he was done explaining anything to me. My fists clenched. I stood there for a second, unwilling to move, my heart racing. I had barely come to terms with the fact that I had just shot and killed Damian and Andrew, even if I did it to protect Fernando—to protec
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Michael’s POVThe door slammed behind Fernando, and for a while, I just sat there, paralyzed. The room was dark, the air still pulsing with tension and adrenaline. My knees pulled up to my chest, my arms hugging them tightly, my forehead resting on them.My chest ached. Not from the pressure of Fernando’s grip or the terror of his voice mere inches from my ear, but from something deeper. Something more devastating. That man who stormed out of here wasn’t the man I once felt strongly for. The man i thought i could save. Not entirely. Fernando had always been dangerous, but never to me. Never like this.The way he had looked at me—rage burning in those eyes, the tremble in his jaw when he grabbed me—there was no hesitation. No guilt. Just power. Just rage. Just the monster the FBI always warned me about.And still, there was a flicker… something I couldn’t name. Something like heartbreak.I stayed like that for a long time, breathing slowly, willing the tears not to fall, but they
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Fernando's POVMy fingers still tingled.I stared at my hand as I stepped out of the room I had just left Michael in—my palm still carrying the memory of his skin, of the way I had squeezed his throat. My heart pounded in my chest, and not from exertion. From something darker, something wilder. The rage. The possessiveness. I should have let go sooner. I should have stopped when I saw the pain in his eyes—but I couldn't. Not after he said he would leave me.I pushed the thought from my head.He needed to know where he belonged. I wasn’t about to let sentimentality ruin everything I had built. Michael was mine. He would stay mine.The drawing room door swung open before I touched it. One of Santiago’s men stood to the side, eyes darting to the ground in submission as I stepped inside. Andrew and Damian still lay on the floor, both bruised, both in restraints. The guards kept their guns pointed at them, their faces hard and unmoving.Andrew lifted his head and sneered."Well, well
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Micheal's POV I didn’t think.I just moved.My body, acting on instinct or something far more desperate, had shoved Fernando’s arm up at the last second.The bullet screamed through the air and struck the ceiling.Everyone in the room froze.For a heartbeat, silence rang louder than the gunshot. I could feel the weight of a dozen eyes pierce into my back, all of them stunned—and afraid. The smell of burnt gunpowder lingered, mixing with the tense air of the drawing room.Then Santiago roared.“What the hell just happened?!”Andrew laughed—a cruel, dry, almost unhinged sound. “Looks like the boyfriend still has a soft spot for the spy.”“Shut him up,” Santiago barked.His men didn’t hesitate. One shoved a gag into Andrew’s mouth, forcing him to the floor. Andrew glared at everyone with that same defiant fire, but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t speak now.Fernando didn’t say a word. His gaze cut through the room like a blade.I swallowed. My throat was dry. My hands had started to t
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Fernando's POVThe echo of my boots was the only sound in the hallway as I led Michael back into the drawing room. My hands were in my coat pockets, fingers twitching for the comfort of power. Beside me, Michael was silent. Tense. His brows were furrowed, his thoughts clearly tangled. I didn't speak. Not yet. There would be time for words—my words—soon enough.Discovering that he has been so active during my time in coma only infuriated me more each time I thought about it.It was taking a huge amount of control for me not to beat him to a pulp just staring at him with his emotionless face.He had forgotten he belonged to me—only me—and he went ahead to fool around with the enemy which ended up bringing FBI agents to our doorsteps. Even thinking of the fact he was once an informant for the FBI brought fire in my mind because it meant he has been lying to me.What else has he been keeping from me?That would be a discussion I couldn’t wait to have.Michael was bad news for me but I
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Michael's POVAshley was groaning in pain, her head leaned against the window of the FBI car I had carefully laid her in. It was hard for me to watch her I'm so much pain, especially when all she had done was help us even though it meant going against the FBI. Fernando was a real monster for doing this to her.The backseat was damp with blood, and the stench of metal clung to the air like guilt to my conscience. I glanced around, hoping and praying that Marlo would suddenly appear so that he can take Ashley to the hospital along with Anabelle. I needed someone I could trust to get Ashley out of here, someone who wouldn't let her down. But the world was quiet now, eerily so, and Marlo was nowhere in sight.I looked around, towards the mansion hoping to catch a glimpse of Marlo just as he is leaving but I didn’t see him.The realization of what I feared dawned on me like a cold, hard feeling."He already left, didn't he?" I muttered, my voice low with frustration. My fists clenched
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Fernando’s POV I folded my arms across my chest while i watched in delight as Andrew’s battered body was dragged through the hallway of my old mansion. His punishment was just starting and I could alread visualise numerous way to make him beg for me to just end his suffering. Emilio followed closely behind, gripping Damian by the collar, the man nearly tripping over himself with each step. The floor, aged by time and conflict, creaked under the weight of our footsteps. Blood had been spilled outside—blood of men who thought they could outsmart me, the FBI agents whose corpses now served as a warning. But inside, it was quieter. The kind of quiet that precedes a storm.Santiago walked beside me. His slightly injured face was grim, jaw clenched so tightly the veins in his neck were visible. His other bodyguard followed us, his weapons drawn and alert. Mortis had joined us near the entrance, nodding silently when I gestured toward the drawing room. That would be the stage.The mo
