Amy Santiago Novels & Stories

Santiago smiled slightly and murmured, “The marriage was a mistake.” The assistant blinked. “Excuse me?” “But their rivalry,” Santiago added, leaning forward, “now *that’s* profitable tension.” She tilted her head. “You want them to collaborate?” Santiago didn’t even look at her. “No,” he said, voice smooth and cutting. “I want to see what happens when they *have* to.” — At the private airstrip outside Paris, Ximena arrived dressed in a high-collared cream blazer and dark pants, sunglasses hiding most of her face. She handed her passport to the security officer and made her way toward the sleek summit-arranged private jet.

I marched out like a programmed toy and followed him from behind. Unlike the previous day, the hall was sparsely filled and Santiago wasn't in sight. I filled my plate with the braised prawns and yam cake and nibbled at it. "I want to go there. Let me be!" Santiago's daughter suddenly smacked her handler and wheeled herself away from her table. What a spoilt brat! I thought and continued to munch down my food. Her handler carried the unfinished food and ran after Santiago's daughter as she wheeled herself energetically towards me.

I take deep breaths while I loosen my tie and open some of my shirt’s buttons. What is it Dakota? Will you tell me now? I ask him. Impatience surfaces on my skin. She is here. I can sense her. I want to feel her. I want to touch her. I want- Her? Who are you talking about? Our mate, Ryan. Our precious mate. Mate?

It was as if they were welcoming royalty into their home. “Welcome, spero che il viaggio fin qui sia andato bene.” Seraphina Vitelli came up to me, hugging me and kissing my cheeks “Yes, the drive here was fine, thank you,” I forced a smile. “Well then, come, come!” She was quite beautiful, looking at her from up close, she had light green eyes and platinum blonde hair, which suited her perfectly. She looked so much like her daughter, except for the hair. “I’m sure you’ve all met, this is Elia,” she motioned to her husband, “my children, and your husband, who doesn’t seem to want to greet his wife,” she said the last part sternly.

My mother was bleeding… I remembered the broken shelves and the words she just told me recently. Before I knew it, I started fighting Cassandra in the air. “Enough!” Damon yelled and struck her on the arm. Cassandra dropped to the floor, coughing. Damon rushed to Scarlett first and looked straight at her wound. “It’s not silver. She will heal.” Then he turned to me. He tapped my shoulders gently, bringing me back from that edge. “Annie, breathe. I’ve got you.” The anger left my body for a while. I hurried to my mother to hold her and make sure she was safe and doing well. Then, she smiled slightly at me. “I’m fine, my girl. Go and finish this.

“ you know you acted really smart to save the love of your life , you put me in jail , forever , I had seved 5 years , five fucking years for a crime , you know I never committed “ Amelia whispered going more closer to him till they were both starting at tech other . “Amelia “ Williams called with his hands in his pocket . “If I were you will , I am going to run or even still kill myself because right now, I am more richer and have more power than you , I am back and this time I would not show any mercy , all those who had caused me pain would suffer “ “ if I were you Santiago, I would kill myself because what’s coming , I wouldn't be able to hold it . You don’t know when I would hit you so

JANE I heard the words leave my mouth before I could stop them. "It's only fair to end this with a little bit of crass, is it not?" His eyebrows went up. Interest flickered across his face. I stood, tucking the bills into my purse with deliberate slowness. Five hundred dollars. That was textbooks and maybe even groceries that weren't ramen. My hands weren't shaking anymore. I was Jailbird now. Fully Jailbird. Jane Puckett was locked away somewhere safe.

“He really does everything for you.” “Of course he does, it’s what I pay him for, right Santiago?” Santiago walks in almost immediately. “Not enough.” “I knew it. You should give yourself a raise, a huge raise.” “Thank you for that suggestion, Miss Ashley.” “Santiago, it’s just Ashley, okay?” “Okay, Ashy” “I like that too.” “Don’t you dare give my wife pet names.” “Are you jealous?” “Get out and get me food, I’m hungry.”

“Sorry. My mind is just… elsewhere.” “I get it. The first few days are the hardest. You keep thinking there’s a rescue party coming. You keep waiting for the cavalry.” She sighed, her good eye softening just a fraction. “We should probably exchange names before we die of scurvy. I’ll go first to show some hospitality. My name is Amy. Amy Marino.” The name hit me like a physical shockwave. My head snapped up, my silver eyes locking onto her bloodied face with absolute precision. Amy Marino. The undisputed heiress of the massive Marino Wineries conglomerate back in the United States. A multi-billion-dollar empire built on Napa Valley estates and international distribution.