The Taste of Revenge: Chapter 8

A cold jet of water hits my skin, my eyes immediately snapping open.

‘What?’ I croak, sputtering as more water enters my mouth.

‘Wow, good on you to come back,’ Carlos mutters from behind.

Looking around me, I realize I’m in the shower stall, still clothed. Carlos is sitting in front of me, a devious smile on his face as he aims the jet of water at me.

‘Stop it,’ I grit out, shielding my face.

He doesn’t though.

Rolling my eyes at him, I simply raise an eyebrow, leaning back and letting him have his fun. Knowing Carlos, it won’t take long before he gives up.

‘Damn. It’s not fun anymore,’ his shoulders slump as he turns off the shower.

‘Thanks,’ I mumble drily as he throws a towel at me.

‘Not even handcuffs will hold you, huh?’ He asks as he raises the pair we’d used to cuff me to the bed with.

‘I don’t remember that,’ I narrow my eyes, noting the damage to the opening mechanism. ‘Did I do that?’ I get up, drying myself to the best of my ability before going to take a look at the cuffs.

‘No one else,’ he whistles.

‘Wait,’ I say, frowning. ‘How long was I out?’

The issue with the experimental drug that Carlos’ men had concocted is that sometimes it gives me long periods of blackouts. Even more unpredictable than the original drug I’d been on, more often than not it tends to screw with my head pretty badly.

‘It’s late afternoon already,’ he says as he opens my suitcase, dumping some of my clothes on the bed. ‘And DeVille is expecting us for dinner. I managed to make excuses for you in the morning,’ he gives me a half-smile, ‘but he won’t believe you’re jet-lagged forever.’

The fact that Cisco is expecting me for dinner barely registers. Instead, all kind of question marks appear in my mind.

‘If the cuffs are broken, then does that mean I left the room? Oh, God,’ I groan. ‘For fuck’s sake, the one time I try to go under the radar and this happens.’

‘If you don’t remember then I can’t help you,’ Carlos shrugs. ‘I did find you passed out in the attic, though, so hopefully you didn’t bump into anyone else.’

‘The attic?’ I close my eyes, bringing my fingers to my temples and massaging them. ‘Damn it,’ I mutter.

‘Don’t fret,’ he says, turning and placing his hand on my shoulder. ‘I spent the morning with the family to make sure they didn’t question your absence, and no one suspects a thing. Not even Cisco.’

I nod thoughtfully at his comment, quickly drying myself and changing into clean clothes.

‘You spent the morning with the family?’ The corner of my mouth quirks up at the annoyance that crosses his face.

Carlos isn’t a people’s person, and I don’t think he’s ever been. Even with the team he has his grouchy days where he simply will not talk to anyone. So to hear that he’s been around other people, strangers at that too, is a complete surprise.

‘Well, someone had to,’ he grumbles.

‘

, then do tell,’ I elbow him playfully. ‘What were your impressions?’ Despite his lack of desire to socialize, Carlos is awfully good at reading people. Probably the result of a lifetime of looking over his shoulder in fear someone might stab him at any point.

His lips spread in a thin line and he takes a moment before he answers.

‘Cisco and his wife are solid. More than solid. She’s his weakness. The youngest brother was present at breakfast. Pretty talkative. One might say talkative. I got the impression something happened with the middle brother because he and his wife left in a hurry.’

‘Interesting,’ I note.

I’d scoured every source of information available on DeVille, but it hadn’t been much. For all intents and purposes, they are an extremely private bunch.

‘His sister was there too,’ Carlos continues, and my eyebrows shoot up.

‘His sister?’

I know he has a sister, but I’ve never been able to get much info on her. Other than her name and age, everything else is a mystery.

‘The relationship is strained between them. I’d say she doesn’t have much affection for her family. At least not with the way she kept dissing everyone the moment she opened her mouth. For all her insults, though, both Cisco and his wife were quite easy on her, which suggests that they feel guilty about something.’

‘Now is even more interesting.’

‘She’s not that much younger than you. You could definitely use her as leverage.’

‘Maybe,’ I shrug. ‘I need to get a better read of the situation before we make a plan to deal with DeVille. For now,’ I pause as I think about the odd position of making friends with my family’s mortal enemies, ‘I’ll be on my best behavior and try to earn their trust. I need Cisco’s full cooperation to do this, not just his ‘

‘Then we better head downstairs,’ he nods to the door.

Once I look more presentable, we go to the dining room where most of the family is already present.

‘There he is,’ Cisco exclaims, quickly making the introductions.

‘Now, who would have thought we’d ever have a Guerra in our home? And at our very table?’ He shakes his head, amused, his hand resting on top of his wife’s.

His brother, Amo, is looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

‘And the prodigal son is back in town,’ he mentions, the hint of a smirk on his lips.

‘Wrong brother,’ I fire back. ‘The prodigal son never left,’ I say as I raise my glass in a mock salute.

‘Then where were you? You disappeared years ago but no one could track you until recently.’

‘Amo,’ Cisco intervenes. ‘Rafaelo is our guest. I’m sure he’ll tell us,’ he turns to me, giving me a wolfish smile, ‘eventually.’

Amo doesn’t seem very impressed with his brother’s decree, but he ceases his line of questioning.

And as the dinner is served, I realize that someone is missing from the table—the little sister.

Carlos is aware of that too as he raises an eyebrow.

But just as Cisco’s wife brings up the topic, the sound of steps stomping over the hard wood floor reverberates. Soon, a small figure appears in the doorway, stopping at the entrance.

A frown mars her features as she seems to scan the room, quickly identifying an empty chair and taking a seat at the table.

Everyone is staring at the late arrival—me included.

Long black hair that curls around her back, she has strong Italian features set against a tanned complexion, freckles scattered all over her cheeks. Big, hazel eyes framed by thick lashes move around the room, taking in each person until they land on me.

Her pouty lips part on a gasp as her gaze meets mine, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity.

She’s stunning. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Her appearance causes a visceral reaction in my body. It’s like my insides are on fire as I simply stare at her, the irony of the situation confounding me. Pure rage, unlike any other, courses through my veins as I clench my fists, trying to get a hold of myself.

A twitch in my jaw threatens to make my mask of cordiality fall, the distaste I feel for her close to the surface for everyone to see.

I’d never thought I’d be put in such a situation—of wanting to cause bodily harm to a woman. But the one in front of me is the exception. She might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. But she’s also the most poisonous.

Because her beauty is not the only thing that draws my attention. It’s also the fact that I know her.

‘Noelle, you’re late. Again,’ Cisco chides, but she barely pays attention to him. ‘I see you’ve spotted our guest. Rafaelo, meet my younger sister, Noelle,’ he turns to me, looking a little exasperated as he apologizes for her lack of manners.

‘Noelle, please behave,’ he gives her a stern look.

‘Rafaelo,’ she says my name, her voice harsh and husky—belying her soft appearance. A bitter taste erupts in my mouth at the sound, reminding me of old days—of moldy cells, daily beatings and disparaging insults.

It’s funny how all my life I’d gotten used to being called a retard, wholly immersing myself in the persona and not minding the acidic comments thrown my way. After all, the only way to survive had been by keeping my head down.

And yet, when faced with the reality of the world, with words that truly hurt and strip humanity from your bones, I’d finally learned that not all pain is physical.

She tilts her head to the side, blatantly studying me. Her eyebrows arch in a quiet dare as she peruses my face, her eyes holding the intensity of a thousand suns.

Once, her gaze would have intimidated, speaking of horrifying punishments for even meeting her eyes.

Now… the corner of my mouth tugs up as I take advantage to do the same, my eyes pinning her to the spot as I try to convey to her everything I’m feeling—every bit of disdain that I bear her.

My mouth slowly curls up in a cruel smile.

Things are suddenly a thousand times more interesting. And maybe, this is all a sign.

Noelle DeVille—formerly Villanueva. My master’s wife. A cruel fucking bitch.

Someone who should have that night instead of my lovely Lucero. Someone who should fucking suffer for all she’s done.

Anticipation simmers in my blood as I realize I’m being given a second chance to set things right. To make sure gets her due once and for all—and this time it won’t be just an easy death. No, that ship has sailed. This time she’s going to suffer for little thing she’s done.

A blush stains her features at my direct stare, and she promptly looks away, fidgeting with her hands.

Alas, this sudden shy persona she’s trying to embody doesn’t work with me. Not when I know what a calculating cold bitch she is. And certainly not when I know everything she’d done to Lucero over the years. Why, I’m pretty sure the bitch killed her with her own hands.

My fingers tighten over the cutlery, the knife bending slightly at the tip. Carlos notes the change in my demeanor, and he gives me a small tug, trying to get my attention.

But I can’t do that. Not now. Not when the only person I’ve ever hated more than my brother and my master is sitting in front of me, daintily helping herself to her food while pretending she’s never seen me before.

‘Raf, what’s wrong?’ Carlos leans in to whisper, once again attempting to shake me out of my reverie. ‘Cut it out. You’re being too obvious,’ he grits.

My lips twitch in displeasure as I force myself to look away from her, knowing now is not the time to start a conflict.

‘Marvelous home, Cisco,’ I praise, ignoring Carlos’ knowing gaze. ‘I think I’ll have a splendid time here with you and your family,’ I continue, my eyes briefly sliding over Noelle’s form. ‘Splendid indeed,’ I mutter under my breath.

Suddenly, I have not one, but goals.

My brother will die.

And the bitch will pay.