Till Death Do Us Part
“No! Please, Santiago--” I whimpered, as his hand seized my wrist with an iron grip, yanking me forward, dragging me effortlessly toward the chair he had pulled into the center of the room the night before. The symbol of my humiliation.
He stopped right in front of the chair, spinning me around, facing him.
"You want me to be your monster, mi ángel?"
His hand grabbed my throat, tilting my chin up until my eyes locked with his dark gaze.
I flinched from the sudden movement.
"Cause I’ll be your favorite monster — just say the word, cariño."
Santiago’s face hovered only inches from mine. His lips so close, I could taste the sweetness of his breath — once making butterflies take flight in my stomach, now curdling my insides into a cold, suffocating fear.
Slowly, his free hand rose toward my face. I held my breath. His touch was deceptively soft and gentle, caressing my cheek. His thumb lingered against my lips, tracing them slowly, his eyes fixed there as he spoke — his voice soft, yet heavy with menace.
"Divorce is not an option, mi amor. We took a vow five years ago. Remember?"
He finally lifted his gaze to meet mine, catching every flicker of fear before he delivered his last words like a verdict:
"Till death do us part."