The Taste of Revenge: Chapter 18

I continue stare at the closed door of the attic. My body won’t stop shaking, my breath coming in short spurts as I try to find a modicum of control over my trembling limbs.

Am I to never have a moment of peace?

My hand shoots out as I grab the edge of the piano bench to stabilize myself, my knees wobbly.

‘Dear God, what just happened?’ I whisper to myself, my eyes fixed on the door he’d just closed.

I blink back tears as I try to get myself under control, but my body doesn’t seem to want to obey me. Not when so many feelings are mixed inside of me—so many contradicting feelings that leave me reeling.

From the moment he’d cornered me in the warehouse, I haven’t known a moment of peace, his accusations ringing loud and clear in my head, his proximity both a blessing and a curse.

While my own memory was failing me, there were some snippets—images—that told me his words were untrue.

For God’s sake, but could it actually be true? Did I have something to do with Lucero’s death? With everyone’s deaths? The past is too blurry for me to attempt to answer that question. But what I do remember from the fire makes me doubt my own self.

Raf isn’t wrong.

I may not remember specifically, but I know how I’d had to act to please Sergio and his sick cronies. I’d buried my own self deep inside of me and I’d put on a show for everyone to see that I wasn’t some weak, meek girl. That I was the mistress of the house, worthy of her husband’s cruelty and infamy.

And those moments in time had torn at my humanity.

The had been hell on earth for many people, its vast terrain south of the U.S. border making it the perfect spot to develop new, experimental drugs to push on the market. But there’s never just the manufacturing stage—there’s also the testing one.

And from what I’d gathered from Raf…he must have been one of the test subjects.

A sob catches in my throat at the thought.

Memories of skinny bodies draped in rags, of people who weren’t people anymore assault me. And worst of all? I’d treated them as the dregs of society too, because it would have been fitting of the mistress to show any inkling of emotion or empathy—that would have been perceived as weakness.

Raf’s claim that I had thrown a plate at his head? Likely true, since it had not been the first time I’d done that. And yet… Knowing everything I’d done back then, I still can’t bring myself to believe I would have harmed Lucero.

She’d been my friend, my confidante. The only one who’d made that place more bearable.

Could I have been so ruthless as to show no mercy even to my only friend?

Because if that’s the case… Then I deserve his hate. I deserve his contempt. And I deserve so, so much more.

I breathe in and out as images flash before my eyes, seeing myself at the making my skin crawl at the stranger I’d been.

It’s not often that I think back, or more specifically, I to think back.

That past is filled with so much pain, I fear I’d drown if I were to let myself go. It’s also the reason why I don’t want to remember the rest. Because if what I do know now is bad…

I shake myself, clutching the material of my torn dress to my chest. Coldness seeps into my skin as my thoughts stray to Rafaelo. The man with the golden beauty who’d made me forget myself for a moment—before everything had come crashing down.

Why is it that the first man to elicit such a strong reaction from me is also the most forbidden? The one who hates me, thinking I’d been the architect of his misfortune and that of the death of his lover? Why is it that the thought of him being intimate with Lucero pains me, an insidious envy forming inside of me? That the mere idea of him loving her burns a hole in my soul?

It must be his intensity, wishful thinking taking root inside of me as I imagine what it would be like to be the object of his affection.

He’s staunch. Loyal. Dependable.

If what I’ve come to know of him is any indication, he’s the ride or die type of person, going to any lengths to protect those he cares about.

Even with his spiteful words and those hateful eyes directed at me, I can recognize the qualities of the man that lay underneath. Lucero had been incredibly lucky to have his devotion—even for a short amount of time.

He’s…the personification of everything I’ve ever dreamed of but never got—as exemplified by the fact that I’m currently the target of his disdain. And seeing how strongly he feels about that…I have no doubt he will not stop until he truly sees me destroyed.

Absentmindedly, I bring my hand over my chest, tracing the contours of my breasts as I picture his reaction to me. He hadn’t been unaffected, and the knowledge fills me with something akin to anticipation—for what, I don’t know.

I could tell that my behavior had shocked him. The fact that I hadn’t cowered in front of him when he’d had me at my most vulnerable—at my most bare—had surprised him.

What he doesn’t know, though, is that it had surprised me too.

It’s been close to two years since the fire, yet has seen my scars. No one has seen my naked body—even if partially.

It had been a source of embarrassment and I’d been too self-conscious about it to even strip in front of a woman. Save for the nurses who’d taken care of me when I’d been incapacitated, there had been no one else.

And yet, I hadn’t reacted as I thought I would. I hadn’t run away, crying in mortification.

I’d been humiliated, yes. But I’d also been determined to show him my weakness. And as I stood proudly in front of him, unbothered whether he was staring at my breasts or not, I’d felt a different sort of rush go through me.

It had felt like the beginning of an addiction. Seeing the shift in his gaze, the alternation between hate and lust had done something to me.

Something that had made me act bold—bolder than I’ve ever been.

While I’d reveled in his reaction to me, I’d also had to admit something else.

A sigh escapes my lips as I realize the conundrum I find myself in.

After what I’d endured at my husband’s hands, I’d never thought I would ever stand a man’s touch—no matter how neutral. I’d never imagined I would gaze upon one with desire either…

But the truth is that for all the hate I see in his eyes, Raf doesn’t scare me. Not in the way Sergio did. No, he scares me in a way that makes my insides tingle, a low hum taking root in my lower belly as my entire body quakes with a need to feel his closeness.

And is the issue.

Because I shouldn’t feel like this. Not when he wants to see me destroyed—or worse, dead. Not when he loves another. And certainly when he’s bent on unleashing a pandemonium into my already chaotic life.

He’s forbidden in a way that would only end with my ruin.

I shouldn’t yearn for his attention, knowing it will be negative. I shouldn’t crave his touch, though it will be bruising. I should definitely want him to want me.

would prove to be the beginning of the end.

It takes everything in me to admit that there is something about Rafaelo that draws me in—despite all the warning signs.

Maybe it’s what he represents, an avenging angel ready to wreak havoc on those who wronged him and his loved ones—the avenging angel that I’d wished for but that had never come for me.

Maybe it’s his physicality, that raw masculinity that emanates from him and awakens a side of me that had been dormant—a side that I’m both scared and ashamed of.

Not unlike the first time I’d seen him in the piano room, his physical appearance causes an uncomfortable awareness inside of me. It goes beyond his Adonis-like looks and his deep, rough voice that even now makes my skin tingle at the echo of his rumble. No, there’s something that seems to vibrate at a cellular level whenever he’s in my proximity, the hairs on my body standing up to attention at the intensity he exudes.

Or, maybe, it’s his principles. Because for all his godly looks, he is more like Atlas—shouldering the weight of the world and trudging his way towards his goals.

That gives me pause, because I can recognize my own glaring weakness. For all the animosity and apprehension I feel towards him, that glimmer of desire—both for the physical and for the emotional—could prove my undoing.

And knowing I need to be more careful around him.

It’s all foreign territory, and a sliver of fear goes through me as I try to think how to proceed further.

One thing is for sure, though. I may be already guilty in his mind, but until I know for sure if what he says is true or not, I will not bow to him.

I may have my own guilt that sometimes threatens to overwhelm me. But I also have my anger at the injustices done against me, at the pain I’d endured and the tears I’d shed.

Until I see evidence that I did, indeed, have something to do with Lucero’s death, I won’t let him walk all over me.

A new sense of purpose washes over me as I realize that now, more than ever, I must hold my ground. After all, I only have myself left, and as such, I must learn to put myself first. And I might have just the way to deal with Raf.

A smile pulls at my lips at the thought, anticipation humming in my veins.

It’s a dangerous game. Very dangerous indeed. Because I will be playing with fire. And last time I did, I didn’t get out unscathed.

‘You want to do what?’ Cisco raises an eyebrow as he leans back in his seat. I plaster a light smile on my face, schooling my features so he doesn’t call me on my bullshit. But if Rafaelo’s managed to instill the seed in him, then I might as well take advantage.

‘I don’t have that many clothes. I was thinking Raf—Rafaelo,’ I catch myself, suggesting a familiarity between us, ‘could accompany me.’

My brother narrows his eyes at me, and for a moment he doesn’t speak.

The urge to squirm under his perusal is overwhelming, especially as he pulls a cigarette from his pack, lighting it up and watching me with the intensity of a hawk.

‘Why?’ he asks unexpectedly.

‘I…’ I stammer, looking down and trying to make myself blush. ‘There aren’t that many opportunities to get to know each other better in the house,’ I mumble.

‘So you admit you want to get to know him better,’ he says, and I give him a brisk nod.

‘Is that allowed?’ I ask sarcastically, even though I know that Cisco is fine with me being around Rafaelo—more than fine actually.

He shrugs, still studying me as he takes a deep drag of his cigarette.

‘Raf might be a Guerra, but he’s different,’ he starts, his differently colored eyes glinting dangerously in the low lit room.

‘Is he?’ I barely resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.

‘He is important for my future plans, so you’d better give up any ideas of using him to get a rise out of me, Noelle. But if you’re serious about him, then I approve,’ he states blankly.

I blink, a little surprised by his easy acquiescence. After all, my brother’s never been very enthusiastic about letting me hang out with men outside the family unattended.

‘Does that mean I’m allowed to go with him?’

‘You are. But don’t stay out too long,’ he nods, giving me one last look before dismissing me.

Satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, I quickly go upstairs to change, knowing my brother will probably inform Rafaelo himself.

I’d spent the better part of the night trying to come up with a plan to beat Raf at his own game. Having seen his unexpected reaction to my naked skin, as well as his obvious loathing of it, I’d realized it would be quite easy to rile him up.

I’ll just have to taunt him with what he clearly detests.

Choosing my clothes carefully, I decide to forgo a bra, putting on a sheer blouse and layering it with a black crop top. For the bottoms, I put on short skirt—a little short for my liking. But I’m sure will appreciate it.

Styling my hair and applying some light make-up, I head downstairs to find a disgruntled Rafaelo waiting for me. A scowl mars his features as he taps his foot impatiently.

And as he raises his gaze to see me descending the stairs, his scowl only deepens, his jaw clenched as he peruses my form. His eyes linger a little too long on my almost bare midriff before they slowly dip lower, to my legs. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard, and a shiver of anticipation goes down my back.

He catches himself in time, though, swiftly looking away, his lips twitching in displeasure as a grimace overtakes his features. And as my eyes meet his in a momentary stare down, it’s to see him turn on his heel, a low curse under his breath.

He’s already on his way to the car as I hurry after him.

‘I can see why you’d need new clothes,’ he mutters as he takes a seat on the bench opposite me, looking out the window and trying to ignore me.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

He turns slightly, the corners of his mouth turned downwards as his eyes briefly skim my body.

‘Did your clothes shrink?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I feign a huff as I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. Placing them strategically right under my boobs, I watch expectantly his expression, satisfied to see his eyes drawn to my chest.

‘Of course you wouldn’t,’ he mumbles, his eyes narrowed at me in distaste. ‘Why did you want me to accompany you anyway?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Don’t tell me last night left you wanting more?’ he asks in a smug tone, and the way he looks at me immediately changes.

No longer the unguarded reaction from before, he’s now pinning me with a lascivious stare, no doubt wanting to get a rise out of me and scare me like the night before.

Too bad for him that I’ve already planned for that—and more.

‘What if it did?’ I inquire in a smooth tone, enjoying the way it throws him off.

I bend forward, placing my elbow on my knee, my hand under my jaw as I look at him.

‘You’re good at making empty promises, . But you’re not very good at delivering them,’ I give a low chuckle.

‘Is that what you think?’ He scoffs, amused. ‘That I’m not good at delivering my promises?’

‘So far, I haven’t seen anything but empty words. Or is it that you can’t?’ A smile tugs at my lips. ‘Not with you needing my brother’s support.’

His hands clench into fists and I can see I’ve hit a sore spot. His eyes are on me, those startling blue eyes that seem even lighter when the sunlight hits them. Pinning me down with his stare, he’s trying to intimidate me with his intensity.

Before I lose my courage, I lean back, straightening my back and arching my spine, thrusting my breasts forward.

Raising my arms, I take a hair tie and I proceed to tie my hair in a ponytail. But as I bring my hands up, twisting my hair in the air, I feel my crop top rise up.

The material slowly moves up over my breasts, and through my sheer blouse, I know Raf is getting an eyeful. Enough that it gets a reaction out of him, the size of his pupils growing under my very gaze.

‘Cover yourself,’ he snaps, confirming my suspicion.

‘What?’ I ask innocently, my arms still in the air. I roll my shoulders, ensuring the material of my top bunches up even further over my breasts.

‘Cover. Yourself.’ He bites out the words, his jaw clenched as he looks at me as if he’d like nothing more than murder me on the spot.

‘Why?’ I feign ignorance. ‘I have a blouse underneath,’ I shrug, the motion making my tits bounce.

He notices too, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red before he forces himself to look away, turning his head to stare out the window. His fists are still clenched in his lap, and I know he’s fighting for control.

‘I didn’t realize you were such a prude, Raf,’ I chuckle. ‘Is this what it takes to defeat you? A little side boob?’ I bring my hand to my mouth as I give a low laugh.

One moment I’m laughing, the next I’m flush against his chest, his hand wrapped around my throat as he looks me dead in the eye.

There’s no amusement in his gaze. Nothing but chilling coldness, and for a moment I fear I may have misjudged him.

His hold is tight enough to hold me in place, but not enough to hinder my breathing.