Chapter 33 I will agree to the Marriage

Chapter 33 I will agree to the Marriage
Marco PoV

Santiago voice was thick with pride, every word sharpened to remind me of the power he believed he held. My grandmother was lying in a hospital bed, and this man was standing here wasting my time.

“There is nothing I hate more than wasted time. To what do I owe this pleasure?” I asked, my tone flat, my anger buried deep. 

He stood there, silent, letting the tension stretch until it became unbearable. His eyes moving between me and Luca. I could feel my brother’s panic rising. Finally, Santiago smirked. “We can either make this quick or fast.” The words were simple, but the threat behind them was clear. This wasn’t a meeting. It was a trap.

I leaned forward, my tone sharp. “You’ve already wasted enough of my time. Make your demands and let’s end this charade. I have somewhere important to be.” Santiago’s pride was written in the curve of his grin, in the way he refused to sit, towering over us like a king in his court. He wanted me to break, to lash out, but I gave him nothing but contempt. His eyes narrowed, and I knew he was deciding how far he could push before I snapped.

“My demands haven’t changed, Marco. But your defiance forces my hand. Now I want something else — a piece of your territory. And when I take it, you’ll give me an alliance too.” His smirk widened as he spoke.

“And if I refuse?” Santiago’s eyes narrowed, his pride swelling in the silence before he answered. “Then you’ll lose more than time, Marco. You’ll lose blood, you’ll lose ground, and you’ll lose the people you think you can protect.” His words were heavy, deliberate, meant to wound.

I already know what his so‑called alliance entails — chains dressed up as partnership, submission disguised as respect. But there is no way I’m giving him a piece of my territory. That would be handing him power, letting him carve his name into what I built with blood and time.

He can wave his gun, he can smirk with all the pride in the world, but I won’t bend. Territory is more than land — it’s control, it’s legacy, it’s survival. And if Santiago thinks he can strip that from me, he’ll learn quickly that I’d rather bleed than surrender.

“I have one demand,” I said, my voice steady despite the gun aimed at Luca. “Leave Marco out of this. This is between me and you.” He let the silence stretch, savoring the moment, before leaning forward. “You think you can dictate terms to me?” he asked, his tone dripping with menace.

Before I could reply, the basement door burst open. Ruby came rushing in, her voice trembling. “Daddy, what is happening?” The sound of her voice cut through the suffocating silence like glass shattering.

“You stay away from this. Guards, take her to her room,” Santiago said, his voice sharp, dripping with pride.

Ruby froze, her wide eyes darting between him and me, confusion etched across her face. The guards moved quickly, their boots heavy against the concrete as they stepped forward. Santiago didn’t lower the gun from Luca, not even for a second. His arrogance was absolute — he wanted me to see that even his own daughter was just another piece on the board.

My chest tightened as Ruby was ushered away, her voice trembling as she tried to protest. Santiago didn’t flinch. He thrived on control, on stripping away choice, on reminding me that this was his stage.

I felt sorry for her, trapped in a life with no choice, every step dictated by Santiago’s pride. She had been born into his shadow, raised under his control, and now even her engagement had been arranged to serve his ambitions. She deserved freedom, not chains disguised as family.

In my mind, I was praying. Praying that Tom and Alex would hurry, that they would piece together the clues, that they would find this place before Santiago’s arrogance turned deadly. Every second stretched like a blade against my throat.

“The offer still stands,” Santiago said, his voice calm but laced with arrogance. “You agree to marry my daughter and give me two grandchildren. And this time, I want the wedding right away.”

I had no time for this. Every second that passed was stolen time to see my Grandmother, so I gave him what he wanted — or at least part of.

“I will agree to the marriage,” I said, my voice cold. “But you’re not getting your filthy hands on my territory. That’s mine. That’s where I draw the line.”

“Then we have a deal,” Santiago said. The gun finally lowered, but the arrogance in his eyes never faded. He thought he had won, thought my reluctant agreement was surrender.

I kept my mask steady, my voice cold. “A deal, then.” But in my mind, I was already planning how to break it.

Before i knew it, Santiago swung his gun towards us and a shot was fired.