LUST AND LOVE FOR POWER

CHAPTER 9

It was a crisp afternoon when fate decided to stir the past from its shallow grave.

A family gathering between the Hernandez and the Montenegro. Eduardo had mentioned he would be meeting his sister and some

extended family today. After the display of his grandmother yesterday, he had no excitement in meeting any more family members, but Eduardo had insisted.

The estate buzzed with conversation, the air filled with laughter, expensive colognes, and the clinking of champagne glasses. Amid it all, Sebastian moved through the crowd with the poise of a man who had grown into his power. His sharp suit, commanding posture, and subtle charisma drew attention.

But it wasn’t admiration he sought today; it was observation. He watched, listened, and measured. Every interaction was a lesson, every smile a mask.

His father had introduced him to his step-sister, it was their first meeting. And she welcomed him with open arms; complaining about how it hurt her that she missed the wedding and how lovely her niece Ama was. She was the only one aside his father who truly made him feel accepted in the family.

“They are here!” she chimed suddenly, before drifting away.

He turned in the direction she had pointed, expecting yet another distant relative to be introduced.

Instead, his breath caught in his throat.

Catalina.

For a moment, everything else disappeared. The elegant din of laughter and champagne glasses faded into a dull hum, drowned beneath the weight of a past he thought had been buried.

She was just as stunning as he remembered; poised, draped in elegance as though wealth had been stitched into her very being. Her dark waves cascaded perfectly over one shoulder, her lips painted a muted red, the same shade he once adored. How many times had he kissed that mouth, let himself drown in the promises whispered between them?

His stomach tightened.

For a fraction of a second, the past slipped through the cracks.

He wasn’t standing in a lavish estate, draped in wealth and power. He was back in Campeche, under the golden glow of a setting sun, with the scent of salt and citrus in the air. Catalina’s laughter, light and teasing, wrapped around him as she stole the last bite of his dinner. He had loved her then, more than anything. And for years, that love had left a wound in his chest, raw and aching.

But now?

Standing before her, seeing her face pale at his name, he realized the wound had closed.

The past no longer had teeth.

But as he studied her, he saw beyond the surface.

There was something hollow in her eyes now, something brittle behind the perfection.

It wasn’t the glow of a woman who had won. It was the careful construction of someone who was desperately trying to hold on.

But as he studied her, he saw beyond the surface.

And she wasn’t alone.

Sebastian’s gaze shifted to the man beside her. He recognized him before his mind even had to put a name to the face.

Leonardo Hernández.

His cousin.

Of course.

Sebastián almost laughed, but the sound never made it past his lips. The irony was suffocating. Catalina had left him for a man with status, for the security he could never provide—only to find herself in the arms of another Hernández.

And she didn’t even know.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

For months, he had envisioned this moment. Had imagined running into Catalina again, watching realization dawn in her eyes. Would she feel regret? Would she try to justify it? Would she even care?

But now, standing here, face-to-face with the past he once mourned, he felt… nothing.

Not anger. Not pain. Not even satisfaction.

Just the cool clarity of understanding.

She had never broken him.

She had freed him.

And as she turned, as her eyes scanned the crowd and landed on him, Sebastián stood tall, letting her see the man she had abandoned.

Time stopped.

Her smile faltered. Her posture stiffened. Disbelief flickered across her face, followed quickly by confusion, then something dangerously close to dread.

Sebastian held her gaze, unwavering.

She stepped forward instinctively, as if pulled by some invisible force, her lips parting in an almost breathless whisper.

“Sebastian?”

His name on her lips was different now. Not the way she used to say it, full of longing and devotion. No, this was something else.

Shock.

Uncertainty.

Fear.

And yet, Sebastian remained composed.

Leonardo, oblivious to the charged history between them, straightened beside her, watching the exchange with growing suspicion.

Leonardo looked up, noticing her hesitation. “You know him?”

Sebastian’s smirk deepened, but his voice remained calm, polite, unreadable.

“It’s been a while, Catalina.”

She blinked rapidly, as if trying to piece together a puzzle that shouldn’t exist. “You’re…” Her voice wavered. “What are you doing here? You…”

Leonardo stepped between them, shaking Sebastian’s hand without warmth. “Leonardo Hernandez. And you are?”

Sebastian’s smirk was subtle, his voice deliberate: “Sebastian Hernandez.”

Catalina visibly gasped.

Leonardo’s smile froze.

“I’m Eduardo’s son,” Sebastian added, his tone smooth, deliberate. He turned his gaze back to Catalina, watching the color drain from her face. “You didn’t know?”

Catalina’s fingers tightened around Leonardo’s arm, too tightly. A silent tremor ran through her as Sebastián’s gaze settled on her, cool and unreadable. Her throat felt dry. The room was suddenly too warm.

No. This wasn’t possible. This had to be a trick of the mind, a cruel illusion conjured by guilt.

Sebastián had been a fisherman. A dreamer with calloused hands and eyes too full of hope. He had loved her recklessly, desperately, the way only a man who had nothing else to give could.

And yet, the man before her now...

He was not desperate. He was not struggling. He was looking at her like she was nothing more than a relic of a past life.

Her stomach twisted violently.

Oh, God.

Leonardo’s voice snapped her back to reality. “Oh! You are the recent addition to the family tree.”

“Yes, I am,” Sebastian replied, eyes flicking toward Catalina. “I have nothing to lie about.”

Catalina looked as though the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She stared at him, seeing not the man she had left behind in Campeche, but a version she couldn’t comprehend; powerful, poised, transformed.

“You said he was a fisherman,” she whispered to Leonardo, her voice shaking.

“He was,” Leonardo replied sharply. “A bastard who washed ashore.”

Her mouth parted, but no words came out.

Sebastian’s smile was razor-sharp. “Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?”

Leonardo’s jaw clenched. “You think it changes anything? You will never be more than Eduardo’s charity project.”

“If you do not respect him as a Hernandez, you must as a Montenegro. You have no right to disrespect my husband”

Isabella stepped in front of him like a shield, she had overheard Sebastian's conversation with his cousin. Watching how unsettled he looked with them, she couldn’t bear such disrespect to linger on

The tension was thick now, onlookers had begun to notice. Eduardo approached, flanked by advisors, sensing the rising heat.

“Is there a problem here?” Eduardo asked, glancing at Leonardo with a subtle warning.

“None at all,” Sebastian said smoothly. “We were just catching up.”

Eduardo nodded, then turned to Leonardo and Catalina. “I see you’ve met my son.”

Catalina’s knees nearly gave way.

Leonardo’s face flushed with fury.

But Sebastian simply turned and walked away with Isabella, leaving them both in stunned silence.

Catalina clenched her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms. She had thought she was the one who won. But standing there, watching Sebastián walk away without looking back, she realized with a sickening twist in her gut—she had lost him long ago.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure she was ready to accept it.

***

The hours had dragged on, the opulence of the gathering fading into a haze of too many drinks and too many polite smiles. Sebastian had tried to escape the discomfort of his reunion with Catalina, but no matter how many glasses of whiskey he poured himself, the ache in his chest wouldn't dull. His thoughts swirled, images of Catalina’s eyes, the way she had flinched when she recognized him, the cold shock of betrayal that still simmered beneath the surface.

By the time he stepped out onto the balcony, the warmth of the alcohol had spread through him, softening the sharp edges of his thoughts but leaving a lingering restlessness. His steps were unsteady, the world blurring slightly at the edges. He needed to quiet the chaos in his mind. Needed something to numb the dull throb of need that was creeping in; something that had been stifled for far too long.

He wasn’t a stranger to the craving for physical connection, but tonight, it felt sharper, deeper. He wanted to escape the gaping hole that Catalina had left behind. He wanted to feel… something.

The cool night air barely touched his skin as he leaned against the railing, eyes closed, trying to gather himself. The quiet clink of glass behind him alerted him to her presence before she even spoke.

"Sebastian?" Isabella’s voice was like a breath of fresh air, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through him.

His eyes snapped open, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. There she was, Isabella, standing on the balcony in the soft glow of the estate’s light. The way her dress clung to her body, the curve of her neck, the delicate way she held herself, it all suddenly seemed intoxicating. His mind, clouded with alcohol, spiraled. The warmth in his chest intensified, and for a fleeting second, his body seemed to crave her closeness, her touch.

“Isabella,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from the whiskey. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

She smiled softly, her eyes scanning him with a hint of concern. “You look like you’ve had a little too much to drink,” she teased lightly, stepping closer. Her presence, warm and undeniable, only made him more aware of the distance between them, which suddenly felt far too great.

Sebastian’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. Everything about her; her scent, her eyes, the way her lips curved, was pulling him in. He could almost feel her skin against his, the softness of her touch, and the heat of her body close to his. The desire surged through him, unexpected, fierce. He hadn't let himself indulge in such thoughts, but the moment stretched before him, filled with longing.

“No,” he said, shaking his head slightly, trying to focus, to push the need down. "I'm fine."

His voice, though, lacked the conviction he had hoped it would carry. He was too aware of the way she looked at him, the way her gaze softened just a little too much. It wasn’t the sympathy he needed, it was the same damn thing he had craved earlier: closeness.

Isabella moved closer, closing the distance between them until they stood only inches apart. The warmth of her presence was intoxicating, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. The scent of jasmine filled his senses, the subtle heat of her body reaching him like a whisper. He felt the pull of her, something raw and primal stirring in his chest.

“Sebastian...” Her voice was softer now, almost tender. She reached out, her hand brushing his arm as she leaned in slightly, her lips just shy of his ear. "You need to rest. The night’s been long, and it’s not helping you."

His pulse quickened. He could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin, the softness of her touch. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, and for a brief, reckless moment, he considered pulling her closer. The desire surged through him; a raw, unbidden hunger.

But he pushed it down, gritting his teeth, willing himself to maintain control.

"Isabella…" His voice was strained, barely more than a whisper, his chest tight with the unspoken words that hung between them.