"The consequences should be mine to pay. It was my decision," she begged, her face leaning forward toward the ground. I released her, stepping back and putting distance between us as I glared over at Joaquin.
"I'll meet you in my office," I ordered him. He nodded, glancing to Isa unsurely but left us in peace so that I could deal with my rebellious woman. She stood up straight, staring me in the face as Joaquin entered the house and disappeared behind me. Her bottom lip trembled, but she glared at me all the same.
"If you'd have just taught me yourself, this wouldn't have happened," she said, jutting her chin up. "You want to leave me vulnerable, but you like it when I challenge you. How am I supposed to make sense of what is tolerable and what isn't when you give me so many mixed signals?"
"I will give you a hint, Princesa," I growled. "If it involves another man, you do not disobey me. I do not care if I've forbidden you from looking at him or speaking to him, you do what you're fucking told."
She swallowed. "Don't punish him for what I asked him to do. Punish me instead. It was my choice."
"Did he or did he not know that I would disapprove when he agreed to it? Because as much as you may like to think Joaquin or Hugo or Gabriel are your friends, they are my men. They answer to me alone. He stood here and waited for his penance because he knew it would come. He betrayed my trust anyway, so he'll pay the price." I turned, stalking toward the house and expecting Isa to follow. She didn't, standing still in the clearing and glaring at me instead. "Come here," I ordered, watching as she ground her teeth together but forced her feet to move.
She strode past me, walking quickly to make her way into the house before me. When she thought to sidetrack to the bedroom, I caught her hand in my harsh grip and squeezed it in warning as I dragged her toward my office and the brands waiting there. I shoved her toward the sofa, sitting her down with a glare before turning my attention to Joaquin where he knelt on the floor shirtless.
He kept his head bowed, submissive despite the tension in his body. "Don't do something you'll regret," he murmured to me, darting his eyes off to the side to glance at Isa where she sat with her hands curled around the cushion.
"What I do with my wife is none of your concern," I reminded him, stripping off my t-shirt and grabbing the glove from the cabinet by the fireplace. I slid it onto my hand, grabbing the brand for his mark from the fire and eyeing the red-hot iron. He didn't flinch as I touched it to his chest, adding a fourth tally to his sins against me. His failures.
It was a miracle I allowed him to live, because if he reached seven?
He'd be exiled from El Infierno. He'd leave behind the only true home he'd ever known and become someone else's problem.
No matter who might miss him.
"Get out." I tossed the iron back to the fire, turning my attention away from him. He stood, gathering up his shirt and retreating from the office without another word. Isa stayed where I'd left her on the sofa, watching me warily as I turned furious eyes to her. "Do you know what happens when a man reaches seven failures on my island?" I asked her, stepping over to the sofa. My hot gloved hand touched the back of it and burned the leather as I leaned into her space. Glaring down at her wide stare, I used my other hand to grasp her around the jaw and force her to hold my gaze when she wanted to escape it.
"No," she whispered.
"If the sins are small? I send him away. If they're more problematic than that, I kill him," I said, feeling the motion in her throat as she worked to swallow. "Would you like to be responsible for Joaquin's death?"
"So if I want to leave, all I have to do is defy you seven times?" she snarled, challenging me as she leaned closer into my space despite the fear making her tremble.
"No, mi reina. You are the only person who is a prisoner here. You have no rights like freedom. Not when you're mine," I said, standing tall and backing away from her. I grabbed one of the brands out of the fire, studying the shape at the end intently. Isa watched me with a trembling lip, wincing when I held out my left forearm and stared at the part of the tattoo that matched the brand perfectly.
She watched in horror as I pressed the end to my skin, searing the flesh on my arm with gritted teeth. When I pulled it back and set it back in the flames, Isa stared down at the red skin in shock.
The words mi reina stood out more in red amongst the sea of black tattoo ink on my forearm. That would only be more true when the wound healed and the skin raised.
Just like Isa's.
32
Isa
"Tattoos can be covered up or removed, unfortunately. But a brand is forever, mi reina," he said. His skin burned in an angry red color as he turned toward his desk and swept everything on top onto the floor. "Come here," he ordered, raising a brow at me when I refused to move. "Now," he growled.
I shook my head, flinching back into the sofa as he approached. "Don't!" I yelled out the moment his hand wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me up to stand. The few steps to the desk felt like a lifetime, an eternity passing before he brought me to stand next to the
