Chapter 162 - Santiago

Chapter 162 - Santiago
I remembered the man vaguely — his round, flushed face, the double chin glistening under too-bright ballroom lights. He resembled, I thought with a private flicker of amusement, Harry Potter’s uncle — the kind who’d scold a child for breathing too loudly. The thought was almost enough to make me forget the tension humming through my chest, until Belen’s grip tightened around my arm. Her knuckles whitened, the smile frozen on her lips.

“Señor Bosque, what a pleasure!” Salvatore’s voice was the picture of warmth, smooth and booming, cutting clean through the chatter around us.

The puffy, bloated man blinked, his expression hovering somewhere between confusion and dread. “It’s been a while,” he said, his tone markedly cooler.

“I want you to meet Santiago and Belen Gómez Hernández.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Pedro’s kids?”

Salvatore nodded once, his smile widening, teeth flashing under the chandeliers.

For a heartbeat, silence swelled between them — heavy, like the pause before thunder. I could almost hear the gears turning in Bosque’s head, calculating what that meant, how far Salvatore’s reach still extended. The faint music from the ballroom filtered through the archway — violins, laughter, the clink of glasses — absurdly elegant against the sharp, invisible tension threading through the space.

“Sure are,” Salvatore went on easily. “You know, it’s only a matter of time before the lawsuit is settled. I just spoke to Nate.”

He left it hanging there, casual and lethal.

Bosque’s expression faltered. Beads of sweat began to form along his hairline, catching the light like dew. His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “What… what are you saying, Salvatore?”

Salvatore tilted his head, the faintest frown of mock confusion crossing his face. “I’m telling you,” he said lightly, “that you will hand over your company to my daughter-in-law and my son-in-law. Both are excellent at leading successful businesses, don’t you think?”

The man blinked rapidly. “And if I don’t?”

Salvatore’s eyes softened in a way that chilled me more than any threat could. His tone didn’t change — still calm, conversational, as if discussing the weather. “The same thing will happen after I kill you. Betraying me doesn’t happen unpunished.”

No one spoke. The faint hum of music and laughter from the ballroom seemed impossibly distant now, as though we stood outside of time. Bosque’s lips parted, but no sound came. His gaze flickered between us, then back to Salvatore, whose hand rested lightly on his cane, the faintest tap echoing against the marble floor.

Finally, Salvatore turned, his hand brushing Belen’s shoulder in a gesture that looked fatherly to anyone watching. “Come,” he said.

He led us back into the golden light of the ballroom, as though nothing at all had transpired. The music swallowed us whole — violins swelling, chandeliers trembling with the soft echo of applause from the end of the waltz.

Nova stood with Sean at the edge of the crowd, her cheeks still faintly flushed, the sheen of her skin betraying what I knew was still pulsing inside of her, how it was stretching her dripping wet cunt. The lights caught the fine trembling of her throat as she turned toward us, her expression perfectly composed yet fraying at the edges, her eyes showing the panic and the pleasure at the same time. My gaze found hers instantly, something unspoken flickering between us — a master and his obedient pet.

“I hope you realize,” Salvatore said smoothly, stepping up beside them, “that you both will run my legal businesses once all this has passed.” His tone was light, almost affectionate, but the meaning behind it was iron. “You’re part of the family now.”

Nova’s lips parted — whether from shock or fear or the insane stretch and continuous pulsing in her pussy, I couldn’t tell. Salvatore’s eyes lingered on me next. “You will make that official soon.”

There was no room for misinterpretation. The ballroom around us seemed to dim; even the violins sounded distant, their melody suddenly hollow.

Salvatore adjusted his cufflinks, then glanced toward the exit. “We’re leaving,” he said simply. “Your car is waiting.”

And just like that, the spell broke — applause resumed, laughter sparked somewhere near the champagne table, and the orchestra began another song. But for the five of us standing beneath the chandeliers, the world had shifted.

Nova’s eyes followed Salvatore as he walked ahead, her breath shallow, slightly panting, her pulse visible at the hollow of her throat. I offered her his arm — a gesture too formal, too careful — and she took it, though her fingers curling into my sleeve as her knees buckled a little.

Behind them, Belen moved in silence, her face pale but her chin lifted, the sharp edge of resolve replacing fear.

None of us spoke. The only sound was the soft click of Salvatore’s shoes against the marble floor as he led the way through the gilded doors.

The car door shut behind us with a heavy, muted click — that kind of silence that holds everything unsaid. The night pressed against the tinted windows, and the hum of the engine vibrated through the leather seats. Nova slid in next to me, her breath uneven, her body tense from the electricity that hadn’t yet found a way out.

Sean was grinning before we even moved. “So,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, “what exactly have you been doing to her tonight?”

I didn’t answer right away. I liked making them wait, liked the way silence made anticipation taste sharper. Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small black remote. Its smooth surface caught the dim light, winking once before I held it up between my fingers.

Nova’s breath hitched. Even without looking directly at her, I could feel the heat rolling off her — a trembling mix of embarrassment, arousal, and obedience. She knew what it meant for me to take that remote out in front of the others.

Sean’s grin widened. Belen shifted in her seat, turning slightly toward us.

“Pet,” I said softly. My voice didn’t need to rise; it cut through the low hum of the car like a current. “Show them.”

She froze for a second. Then she moved — slow, hesitant, trembling — her hands smoothing down her dress before curling at the fabric’s edge. I didn’t have to tell her more. She knew the limits of the command, and she obeyed in a way that was both shy and deliberate.

The air thickened. Belen inhaled sharply. Sean leaned closer.

Nova’s cheeks were flushed a deep, almost feverish red. She looked at me once, seeking permission, but I gave nothing more than a nod. Her hands trembled as she pulled up her skirt, her thong no longer there. She slid down on her seat enough to reveal the plug and dildo that had been given to her earlier that night. The glint of the hidden device caught my eye — already inflated to the level that it was well visible, the cause of her trembling thighs and shallow breaths.

Sean couldn’t resist. He pressed a button on the remote.

Nova gasped, her back arching involuntarily, fingers clutching the seat. Her eyes went wide, glassy, as the sensation rolled through her. I watched the pulse of it ripple across her body, subtle and devastating. The sound she made — low, almost strangled — wasn’t one of pain but surrender.

Belen shifted, crossing her legs, writhing quietly and clearly aroused. She was watching closely, her eyes dark with something like fascination.

The car turned, headlights sweeping across the walls of a narrow street before plunging us back into darkness. In that darkness, I leaned closer to Nova. Her scent was warm — skin and perfume and something unmistakably raw beneath it. I could feel the tension in her muscles, the trembling effort it took her to keep her composure with the others so near.

“Do you feel it?” I murmured near her ear.

“Yes,” she breathed. Her voice cracked with restraint.

“How much?”

Her lips parted, but no words came at first. Just a shiver. Then, in a whisper that only I could catch: “Too much.”

I smiled faintly. “No such thing, pet.”

Across from us, Sean chuckled under his breath. “You’re cruel,” he said, and he turned it up to the max. There was admiration in his voice too — the kind men reserve for those who know exactly how far to take a thing without breaking it.

“She likes it,” I replied simply, “And she will take it as I tell her to.”

Nova’s fingers twitched, grabbing her skirt tightly. Her composure was a fragile mask, and she knew it. Every bump of the road tested her control. Every flicker of sensation from that hidden toy reminded her of what she was.

Belen leaned forward, eyes glinting. “You’re trembling, querida,” she said softly. It wasn’t mockery. It was curiosity, almost envy.

Nova tried to speak but couldn’t. Her breath caught, her lashes fluttering.

I placed a hand on her thigh — a possessive gesture, grounding her. “You love it, don’t you? You love to take what we tell you to,” I murmured.

“Yes, master.”, she whispered. “Please, master... I need...”

“What do you need?”, Belen asked curiously.

“I need to be fucked.”, Nova moaned loudly, ending in screams.

I grinned devilish. “You will be fucked when we get back to the house. Two cocks in your dripping cunt, and one in your trembling ass. And if you’re lucky, you will get Sean’s cock in your mouth.”, I told her. “You will love that, don’t you pet?”

Nova screamed and her fingers turned white from how hard she grabbed her skirt.