Engagements and Entanglements

Three: Making deals with the devil

VINCENT

Rage consumed me completely, coursing through my veins like a wildfire, severe anger boiling inside me, tightening my fists until my knuckles turned white.

I felt like I could transform into something primal, something unrecognizable, a beast perhaps.

If I hadn’t cut ties with everyone, being called an inmate in an orange jumpsuit would have seemed fancier than being a CEO in a suit. Honestly, the thought of the former didn’t seem so terrible today.

“Vincent, please, I know you don’t like me, but this is a serious allegation. Let’s sort this out in private,” Alvaro said, his voice dripping with false concern.

I didn’t mind being seen as the bad guy, in fact, I preferred it. Time and again, the universe pushed me toward that role.

Every time I tried to do something good, the consequences were worse than when I acted out and today was no exception.

I should have stayed away, like I usually did, or arrested her for trespassing. But here I was, my stupidity leading me to this moment.

“Let’s head inside, but just know it’s not because you asked me to,” I shot, making it clear that my bitter relationship with him was as strained as ever.

“Come, dear, let’s head inside. Papa’s here, okay?” Alonso's voice dripped with a sickly sweetness, as if he were addressing a child.

I couldn’t even bear to look at him, his whole act was so nauseating that it churned my stomach. Even a fool wouldn’t buy into his phony affection for Isabella.

Speaking of her, Isabella was just a minor player in this twisted game, but that didn’t mean I’d go easy on her.

It had been too long since I’d shown my face around here, and if this was how I made my entrance, then so be it.

Years had passed since I last set foot here, I inhaled deeply, my heart racing as I took calculated steps toward the open door.

I wasn’t sure if my heart had truly healed or if its hardened state could withstand the flood of emotions threatening to crash over me.

I scanned the room, taking in the staircase that was lined with images of little Vic, each snapshot chronicling his journey from a tiny infant to a grown man.

I was invisible, a ghost haunting the remnants of a life that once thrived here, my eyes wandered to the grand parlor, where June, my mother, used to command attention from her tall regal chair, crafted just for her.

She had reigned over this estate from that seat, her vision shaping every inch of the manor. But now, her absence left only a faint echo, like smoke fading into nothingness.

I stood at the threshold of what had once been my sanctuary, a vast and grand room that felt both welcoming and stifling.

Dark wood bookshelves lined the walls, crammed with a vast array of books, most of which I had read.

I wasn't a bookworm by choice, but when you’re an outcast in your own home, books become your closest allies.

As I stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind me, my blood boiled as I spotted the occupants, Alvaro, f*cking Alonso, and Isabella.

I could feel my fists clenching at my sides as Alonso shifted to the edge of the sofa, his eyes locking onto mine with a smugness that made my blood boil.

"Since we're all here, why don't we cut to the chase?" Alonso said, his tone annoyingly casual. I couldn't tell if he was genuinely trying to ease the tension or if he was just trying to provoke me further, but I trust the latter.

"I didn't touch her, she knows it, and we all know—" I started, but he cut me off with a mocking laugh.

"The tear on her chest begs to differ," he said, pointing at the ripped fabric of Isabella's dress.

"Look, I thought we were here to discuss how to restore my daughter's honor. If not, I better start calling CDS news," he added, his voice dripping with condescension.

My jaw clenched tight, frustration surging through me like a tidal wave, making me feel like my teeth might crack from the pressure before the night was over.

Even though I was innocent, being tangled up in a case like this was the last thing I wanted to tarnish my reputation with, not even within a 5,000-mile radius.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt. Just the thought of making a deal with Alonso, the devil himself, twisted my stomach in knots.

"I heard Tyler has a knack for shredding spoiled rich brats, they make great news… who knows?" he said, his smirk revealing he knew exactly what he was doing.

The mention of Tyler Hobbs sent a chill down my spine. He was the dirtiest lawyer and reporter I knew, cunning, ruthless, and a master at twisting situations to his advantage.

I turned my gaze to Isabella, her dress in tatters, exposing the front where it had been ripped apart.

Her makeup was smeared and her hair was a wild mess, strands falling over her face as she clutched the remnants of herself, looking like a fragile doll that had been tossed aside.

The sight twisted my gut, this was a clean shot at me, and I wouldn’t lie, Tyler wouldn’t hesitate to twist this situation to his advantage, he would make it stick for sure.

I could already envision the headlines, the whispers in the community. Even if I proved my innocence, the Winery would bear the cost.

It was more than just a business; it was a piece of her I could grasp, proving she was more than just “the other woman”

I had to find a way to protect myself and salvage my mother's empire, even if it meant making deals with the devil.

"I'm not gonna ask again, what the hell do you want?" I shouted, my voice rising, trying to drown out my own feelings of submission. I hated that he had me in this position.

But there was no denying it, Alonso held the upper hand. We lived in a harsh reality where the truth didn’t matter; all signs pointed to the fact that mine wouldn’t either.

I stole a glance at Alvaro, searching his face for any sign that he was truly present and aware of the chaos unfolding around us.

He stood there, silent and still, and in that moment, it hit me just how useless he had become.

Today had revealed one undeniable truth: the roles had shifted, and he was nothing more than Alonso's obedient puppy now.

“Oh, perdóname! So, Victor, your loving brother has made a mockery out of me and my dearest Isabella,” Alonso sneered, his face twisted into a pout, eyes wide with a facade of sadness.

“I’ve lost my respect, and you’ll get it back for me. You’ll marry Isabella,” he declared, raising his hands dramatically, as if to signal the end of the discussion.

I had expected him to demand a hefty sum or something grand, but it seemed he was far cheaper than I had anticipated.

“Done,” I replied, my voice steady as I locked eyes with him.

Who says I have to be a man of my word? By tomorrow, all of this will be nothing but a fading memory.

Suddenly, Alonso's face lit up with a grin, revealing crooked teeth through his busted lips, a sight that was both surprising and unsettling.

He pulled out his worn-out phone from his pocket and dialed a number, likely someone I had no desire to hear from.

"Oh hey, Tyler! Good day! Oh, I'm fine, fine. Sorry to call you on such short notice, but I had to—" Just then, frustration boiled over, and I lunged at Alonso again, my patience wearing thin as he seemed to delight in pushing my buttons.

I grabbed his collar, but he raised a hand, signaling me to calm down. "Vincent personally wanted to inform you about his wedding tomorrow. Sorry for the short notice," he said, chuckling in a way that grated on my nerves. My grip tightened, disbelief racing through my mind.

"He's getting married to my dearest Isabella and wants the whole team to capture it, so please spread the news," he added before hanging up.

"Papa!" Isabella cried out, her voice trembling with shock and hurt, but beside me, Alvaro stood like a statue, offering no comfort or reaction.

Alonso shook my hands off him, smirking as he said, "That's no way to treat your father-in-law, now is it?"

In that moment, the realization hit me hard. I was in deep trouble, the double-edged sword of my choices pierced my hand with no chance of retreat.

“Restoring my respect and my daughter’s honor shouldn’t take time,” he said, adjusting his cheap looking suit and tie.

“By now, the news about Vincent Mendoza’s wedding would have spread like wildfire,” he continued, stepping uncomfortably close, his eyes boring into mine.

“If he has second thoughts about showing up? I wonder how people will view the brand of a man who can’t even show up for his own wedding,” he spat, a hint of malice in his tone. “Heard the wine business is quite a sentimental market.”

This can’t be happening. I can’t be his little puppet, my chest ached with a deep frustration.

“Well, I have to rush; my princess needs a new wedding dress. She’ll stay here for the night, Alvaro,” he said, addressing the big dummy.

He grabbed Isabella with a grip that was firm and possessive, dragging her away like a prized possession.

I stood there, too stunned to speak. Everything had happened so fast, like a surreal nightmare, and now I was trying to piece my way out of this chaos.

“Vincent” Alvaro began, but what the hell was left for him to say? This was his only chance to prove himself, not as a father, but for Mama.

I knew he never really loved her, today confirmed that; he just enjoyed using her. And today, he had failed, just like always.

“He’s got dirt on you, right?” I glared at him, my disgust so palpable it felt like a physical weight in the air.

The look on his face told me everything I needed to know, it was the confirmation of his weakness.

Alonso, once a loyal little Chihuahua, had now become a big dog, the one pulling the strings, flipping the script entirely.

"Well, I guess I have a wedding to prepare for," I said, turning to leave, my back straight and my resolve hardening.

As I took a few steps toward the door, I stopped, the words bursting forth like a dam breaking.

"And in case I haven’t said it before, you are dead to me." My voice quivered, but I swallowed hard, storming out with my heart pounding.

As I stepped out, I spotted Alonso leading Isabella up the stairs. They both turned to face me, and Alonso wore the smuggest smile I had ever seen.

"Son of a b*tch," I muttered under my breath, glancing at Isabella. Her innocent eyes were wide with fear, and she mouthed, "I’m sorry."

But no, Isabella, you’re not really sorry yet. You have no idea what your father has dragged you into, but soon enough, you will.

Soon, my little wife.

My thoughts race, fueled by a burning desire for revenge, each idea more intense than the last. I can feel the weight of my anger, a solid force that churns within me.

No worries, Alonso... we will see.