The Revenge
Selestina Garcia is stolen away in a whirlwind of guards and terrified whispers by the wealthy Don Alejandro Escareño. He justifies it as overdue revenge. Now, she is a pawn in his game, a weapon to wield against her father who had taken his mother's life years ago, a way for him to enjoy his retribution. And enjoy it he does. Forced into his bed, innocent Selestina must serve Alejandro's needs and give in to his lustful commands. As Selestina gets closer to the truth, things get even more complicated.
Chapter 1
California, 1821
"Don Remualdo has agreed to marry you," her father, Mateo Garcia, announced with a shit-eating grin on his face.
Selestina swallowed hard while holding her breath. Entering into the Alamilla family meant everything to her father and her older brother, but it meant even more to her.
Living in this house, she was throttled and defeated with no rights or opinion. It was her prison.
Selestina was just a mean to a bargain to be sold to the highest bidder to ensure her father's gambling debts would be taken care of. Not to mention her brother's debts to the courts hiding vial acts her father conveniently had buried. Both of which none of the noble circle of friends knew about.
Selestina remembered the days when her father was not the man he had become. There had been a time when his laughter filled their small home, when his hands were honest instead of the deception he would later master.
He had once been a man who had carried her on his shoulders, who whispered stories about adventures. But somewhere along the way, honor had left him. And Diego.
The world had not been kind to him, not had he been kind in return. When debts mounted and opportunities dwindled, he turned to gambling, then to deceit. The gambler become a blackmailer, a blackmailer became a grifter, and soon, her father was a man she could no longer recognize.
She had watched the transformation over the years with silent horror, realizing too late that the father who had once shielded her from the world now only sought to use her as another pawn in his schemes, she was a pawn in his game, a prisoner in his home.
As soon as her life started as Don Remualdo's wife, she would be free.
"Well done, papa." Diego said and capped off his wine glass again. Most likely not his first one of the day. Like father, like son.
"When is the wedding, papa?" Selestina asked, terrified that he would laugh and confess that it was just a joke.
"Don Emiliano picked the auspicious date of June 4."
Selestina bowed her head and closed her eyes tight. Three months. Three long months. A deep satisfaction settled within her knowing that she was so close.
"May I buy cloths for a wedding dress tomorrow, papa?" she pleaded.
Her father took long strides to find himself next to his son filling a new chalice of wine... to the brim. They clinked their two glasses in victory that made Selestina's insides shiver. She should be the one celebrating.
Her father ignored the plea. "Please, papa?" she begged again.
"Yes, yes. Fine. Fidel can take you."
Selestina quietly retreated to her bedroom finally letting out a long breath counting down the days until her freedom. She prayed that Don Remualdo was a good man. Briefly she glanced at the small oval painting of her mother. "Mama, I'll be fine." Three months, she sighed.
The next day, Selestina exited the carriage outside the store. Coming to the city was a refreshing treat. The busy streets that came to life, never sleeping, and the aroma of the amazing street food. Selestina enjoyed the stalls, the sunshine, but most of all, the serene church where she could pray for eternal peace for her mother.
Dust swirled around Selestina's worn boots as she approached, the silence amplifying the frantic beating of her heart. As she stood before the decaying adobe walls of the old church, a different ache began to surface.
At just seven years old, Elena Garcia succumbed to her illness, a fever that raged through her small frame like a wildfire, consuming her vitality and leaving behind only ashes. The pain of the loss still lingered, an unhealed wound that faith and prayers filled along with hope and love.
She entered the mission, facing the poor and sick, confronting the harsh realities of life, helping those in need. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and stepped through the crumbling doorway into the shadows that awaited her.
Blissfully unaware, she never noticed the man who had followed her for months, hiding within the crowds, carefully watching her every move.
~~~~~
Selestina was reading in the small room when she heard the sound of a horse approaching. Who would be visiting her father this late? Casually, she peaked out the window and saw a man dismounting his stallion. He looked wealthy, dressed in fine fabric and the cape looked like shiny silk. Perhaps it was a business associate?
The faint sounds of male voices echoed and she tiptoed out to the hallway to peek. Her father's office door below swiftly closed behind them.
She was about to return to her bedroom when she heard her father's yelling muffled by the closed doors, "What do you mean?", "I will not!" and "I will have you killed!"
Selestina sucked in a breath and walked down the stairs. Was someone threatening her father? Then it had to be a debt collector! It wasn't the first time.
His office door swung open.
"Get out! Get out of my house!" Her father yelled at the top of his lungs.
Selestina turned the corner and collided with a human wall. The man.
If he hadn't caught her she would have fallen to the ground. Instead, he pulled her close to him and he carried her like she weighed nothing, drifting into his strong, warm embrace. Her senses were enamored by his smells; sandalwood, leather and a mixture of sweetness and musk. Her body melted with his and when their eyes met the corner of his lips curved. His eyes were dark, almost black. His face was kind, but weathered. And his features...
"I said get out of my house!" Her father approached.
The man released her instantly, pushing her safely aside making her stumble as he rushed away. Her father followed until they heard the retreating sounds of hooves galloping away.
Who was this handsome man and why was her father so angry?
Later, in the sitting room, her father had calmed down now angrily pacing back and forth. Diego was already drinking and in his state he egged his father on.
