That was Aimeé. The eldest daughter of the house. Beautiful as a poisoned rose. She had once promised to run away with Juan. She had whispered love into his ear, then laughed as the Rurales dragged him away in chains. She had wanted his passion, not his poverty.
Hope.
Inside, the elegant Andrés de Montemayor, his legitimate half-brother, paced the marble foyer. "He wouldn't dare come here," Andrés said, though his hands trembled. corazon salvaje capitulo 1
A soft voice replied. "He is a wounded animal, Andrés. Wounded animals are the most dangerous." That was Aimeé
The storm arrived not from the sea, but from the south. A lone rider, cloaked in black, spurred his stallion through the mud-soaked streets of the coastal town. Men whispered and crossed themselves. Women pulled their children inside. They didn't need to see his face—they knew the horse. They knew the whip-crack of its hooves. They knew the devil had returned. She had once promised to run away with Juan
"You are a fool, Juan del Diablo," she said. "I never loved you. I was playing a game. And you lost."
