Page 49 of Eternal Craving

My gaze returned to the painting.

“You’re unable to appreciate the significance of such a masterpiece,” Felipe said.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “Where’s Salvador?”

Felipe moved closer to the canvas. “God’s reckoning with an arrogant man,” he said, leaning in close. “Belshazzar believed himself greater than his creator. Sound familiar?”

“God destroys Belshazzar’s seat of power,” I said. “Sound familiar?”

Felipe turned to face me. “My men have gone after Alicia.”

Belshazzar’s eyes bulged and the petrified expressions of his guests reflected the horror of my own drama. I steadied myself.

“No reaction?” Felipe looked amused.

A guard handed him the knife that had been confiscated from me when I’d been searched earlier.

“Was this for me?” Felipe drew closer. “I can add conspirator to your list of crimes.”

“Where’s Ricardo?” I asked.

“At home.” Felipe picked up a parchment from his desk and handed it to me. “I assumed you’d pay a visit, so I had this prepared.”

The lawyer’s scrawl was familiar, as was the content. I reached for the quill on his desk and signed it.

Felipe snatched the paper back. “I see you’ve finally agreed to cooperate.”

Having just signed over my entire estate to him, I tried to stay focused, telling myself that such things were unimportant.

“Where is Salvador?”

“Well, I’m afraid the news isn’t good.” Felipe seemingly paused to check my reaction and then said, “Any act of treason is punishable by death. Salvador’s alliance with you seals his fate.”

“But you’re friends with his father.”

Felipe glared. “Meddling in my affairs has consequences.” His fingers tapped against his leg in that familiar frenetic rhythm.

A wave of nausea hit me hard.

“Out,” he ordered the guards, and then waited until we were alone. “I want the dancer.”

“What?” Stunned, I searched for words. “Wait…listen to me…”

Felipe opened the door and with a thin smile, he turned and shrugged. “Your widow will become my whore.”

He was gone before I could get to him.

The guards dragged me across the foyer, following Felipe, past the startled gazes of servants, to the edge of a courtyard where a large crowd had gathered.

I panicked.

In the center of the courtyard, Salvador fought against three soldiers, and judging by his wounds and bloodstained clothes, they’d been sparring for some time. Steel blades clanged and I caught a whiff of sweat and blood in the air. My legs almost gave way.

“Hold back,” Felipe ordered his men.

These were seasoned swordsmen who were well-fed and rested. Salvador had no such advantage, and his balance was affected by his weakened state.

I grappled with the guards to get free, but they tightened their grip. Salvador staggered back against the assault, struggling to grasp his weapon’s hilt.