The Counterfeit Lover (War of Sins Book 3)

The sun filters through the sheer curtains of our bedroom. I squint as I slowly get used to the blast of light.

My throat is dry as fuck, my head pounding.

It takes me a few seconds to get myself under control and become aware of my surroundings.

I’m…home. The home I share with my wife, Noelle.

Swinging my legs off the bed, I blink as I look around. The bed is a mess of tangled sheets, but I don’t spot Noelle.

Panic bubbles in my chest for one moment before the smell of food wafts through the door.

I release a deep breath as I realize she’s likely making breakfast—her usual pastime.

Taking a step forward, I have to grasp the bed’s frame to keep myself upright. My legs are wobbly, my entire strength seemingly depleted.

Yet just as that crosses my mind, more information floods me. It’s the morning after a drug session. That’s why I feel so worn out—so fucking weak.

A few more steady breaths and when I think I have everything under control I try to move again, this time succeeding at putting one foot in front of the other.

I head straight for the kitchen, needing to see my pretty girl.

There’s something inside of me that’s not alright—a nasty taste in my mouth and even more foul sensation fogging my brain.

My lips tug up when I spot her. She’s wearing one of my black shirts which almost reaches her knees. Swaying from side to side, she’s listening to music in her earbuds, not noticing as I advance.

The smell of freshly cooked food fills my nostrils and my stomach grumbles in hungers.

My pretty girl is nothing but thoughtful as I note the array of food and the fact that she’d cooked some of my favorites. God but to think I spent all that time away from her when she was right under my nose…

But she’s here now, and that’s all that matters.

She suddenly turns, giving a small yelp when she notices me.

‘You’re awake,’ she notes, taking her earbuds off and coming towards me.

Rising herself on the tips of her toes, she cups my face as she pulls me down for a kiss.

‘Morning,’ she whispers against my lips.

‘Morning, love,’ I murmur, immediately more at ease.

Yet when she turns to tend to the food, my blood runs cold as I notice the marks on her flesh.

One second. Two. I feel myself rooted to the spot as my brain goes into overdrive, countless possibilities suddenly inundating my mind.

Fuck! Did I hurt her?

No, I refuse to believe that. Not her… I’d never hurt her.

But the seed has been planted, and before I know it I’m on her.

Grabbing the hem of her shirt, I pull it over her head—a bit rougher than intended.

She lets out a low gasp, but doesn’t protest as I throw it to the side, her naked body finally meeting my gaze.

And what I see…

I blench at the sight before me.

The area from her tits to her neck is covered in hickeys—big, red hickeys. There are bite marks all around her breasts and her stomach, and as I turn her around, I note even worse on her back.

My fingerprints are all over. Her neck, her back, her ass and her thighs. All areas are bruised and marked.

‘Noelle…’

Faced with the evidence, I can’t deny it anymore.

‘I hurt you,’ I let out a pained howl, the thought of doing something to my sweet girl killing me on the inside.

Fucking hell…

‘What? No! Raf, what are you talking about?’ She gives me a slight push, turning around and narrowing her eyes at me. ‘You didn’t hurt me at all.‘

‘But…’ I trail off, unable to even say the words. Instead, I merely trail my fingers over her bruised flesh, too fucking ashamed of myself.

‘I wanted this,’ she stops my hand, grabbing it in hers and pulling me closer. ‘I wanted everything you could give me. This,’ she points to the bite marks, then the handprints and the bruises. ‘All these are because I asked you. I wanted you to take me like that. And I loved every single moment of it,’ she adds confidently, meeting my gaze head on.

‘Fucking hell, Noelle. If anyone were to see that they’d think I abused you. And they would be right. How could…’

‘Shh,’ she places a finger over my lips. ‘I bruise easily. But you didn’t hurt me at all. You didn’t abuse me. You only gave me pleasure. I know you might not remember the night too well, but all you did was love me, never anything else. OK?’

‘Pretty girl… Promise to tell me if I ever hurt you?’

‘Of course,’ she readily agrees. ‘Now go shower and come back for breakfast,’ she pokes my chest playfully as she gives me yet another kiss.

‘Don’t tell me I smell,’ I raise a brow at her.

‘You don’t,’ she smiles. ‘In fact, I like you better like this. All musky, and male, and mine,‘ she bats her lashes. ‘But I know you’ll feel better after a hot shower.’

“Wise little thing,’ I wink at her, which earns me another poke, this time on my ass.

‘Go,’ she mouths.

Shaking my head at her antics, I go back to the bedroom, grabbing a few clean towels before heading to the bathroom for a steamy shower. I’m still slightly disoriented from the drugs, but as the water hits my skin I release a weary sigh, finally finding some comfort after a long night.

Letting the water wash over me, I tilt my head back and relax.

But my mind doesn’t seem to want to do that.

Not when the water becomes hotter, and upon meeting my skin, it triggers flashes from the night before—flashes from long ago.

I’m frozen to the spot—so fucking still I can’t even control the temperature of the water.

My eyes snap open as my mouth parts in horror, images dancing before my eyes—awful, awful images that make me want to truly rip the skin off my back.

I see everything. Everything that was revealed to me the night before and all the memories that I must have buried inside my brain at some point. I see them and I…

Turning off the faucet, I step out of the shower, donning only a clean pair of sweatpants and mechanically drying my hair off before going back to the dining room.

Like a stranger in my own body, I sit down at the table Noelle laid for the two of us, slowly picking up my utensils and attempting to eat.

But the smell of the food seems foul now.

‘Raf?’

I pick at the food, a little hesitant to bring it to my mouth as my stomach still rebels at those images—at those debasing touches I can still feel on my skin. The hottest water could not cleanse the past away from me, or the pain at having it brought back like this.

‘Raf,’ Noelle’s hand covers mine as she takes the fork from me. ‘What’s wrong?’

Slowly, I bring my gaze to hers, swallowing hard as I can’t bring myself to utter a lie, though that would be the best for her peace of mind. And maybe mine.

I can only stare into her worried eyes, tears pricking at my eyeballs. So I just hold myself utterly still.

‘What’s wrong, Raf? There’s something wrong, I can tell.’ She abandons her seat opposite me at the table to come to my side.

She’s close—too close?—and for a moment everything in me rebels at the contact.

But then there’s her scent. Her utterly irresistible scent that always soothes me—even now, when I’m on the brink of tears.

‘Talk to me please,’ she whispers, her hand on my back as she slowly strokes me. ‘What’s wrong?’

I should say nothing. Lie and let this rest, not fucking taint her with my past and the fact that I feel like half a man for what happened—or at least what I think happened.

But one look at her and I know I couldn’t do that. I owe it to her to know just what a fucking mess I am.

‘I had some flashes last night.’

‘Flashes?’ she frowns.

‘I think they were memories. From before,’ I swallow. ‘When I was on drugs.’

Her eyes widen and her hand stills on my back.

‘And?’

I purse my lips, not knowing how to tell her this. She already knows some of the details from my time with Armand. She knows how he treated me, that he kept me as a replacement for his wife for my supposed resemblance to her. But what she doesn’t know—what I didn’t know until now—is that Armand might not have been the only one to rape me. Might not have been the only one to…

‘Someone else might have…raped me,’ I tell her before I lose all courage. Before the mere thought of it makes me want to fucking mutilate myself on the spot and remove all traces of that encounter.

‘What?’ Her eyes flare in shock, her mouth hanging open as she regards me. ‘What do you mean, Raf?’ She asks me in a pained tone.

‘It was a woman. She…’ I choke on the words, but I tell her. I give her a brief account of what I saw and what I think happened.

‘It felt so real,’ I whisper when I’m done. ‘I…’

‘Oh my God, Raf!’ She wraps her arms around my neck, holding on to me. ‘My Blue. My darling Blue,’ she murmurs in my ear, slowly laying soft kisses all over my face. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t,’ I shake my head. ‘Maybe it’s not even real…’ I add weakly, though I know it must be real. ‘Maybe…’

‘Maybe,’ she quickly nods. ‘Maybe it’s just a nightmare?’ she offers kindly, wrapping herself around me to offer me her comfort—her heat. ‘It has to be a nightmare,’ she whispers.

I’m fucking embarrassed of myself, but at this moment, her presence is the only thing I need.

‘I hope so, pretty girl. I truly hope so.’

After what feels like an eternity, we resume eating and I do my best to put on a face of normality.

Though Noelle is nothing but understanding, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want her to see me like this, almost tumbling down the black hole that is my psyche. So I do what I always do best.

I pretend.

A few days later, and for all my efforts to move on and relegate everything to a nightmare—maybe one based on some truth, but a nightmare nonetheless—I can’t seem to do it.

The images flash in my mind at the most inopportune times. Sometimes even when I’m intimate with Noelle. It takes just a second for me to be jolted back to that flash and feel someone else touching me.

Though I’ve done my best to put on a blasé front, I know Noelle can sense something is wrong. Yet after the initial time we talked about it I’m wary to approach the subject again. More than anything because I don’t want to speak of it again and, God forbid, get more flashes or images of that day.

And as time continues to pass, I have to admit to myself that it feels less and less like a hallucination and more like an actual memory.

Someone had done that to me…

‘Will you be back for lunch?’ Noelle asks as she buttons up my shirts, a serene look on her face.

‘I’ll try to,’ I bring one hand to my lips for a kiss. ‘I’ll let you know if I’m late, but I’ll do my best to be back by noon.’

‘Good. I have a new recipe and I can’t wait for you to try it,’ she adds, mischief sparkling in her eyes.

Since we’ve moved in our own place, Noelle has taken to cooking daily, enjoying the process of coming up with new recipes. I’d offered to help or even hire help, but she’d had none of that, declaring that the kitchen is her space. Not one to argue with that, I’d let her have her fun, happy she found a new hobby.

‘I’ll see you soon,’ I whisper as I kiss her lips before going out the door.

She thinks I’m going to see Carlos, and while that is in part true since I will be swinging by his place later, I need to see my sister first. Not in any family capacity, but a professional one.

I need to hear her opinion about what’s been happening to me or I won’t be able to live like this anymore—when every little touch has the potential to be torturous because I know what was taken from me. I need Gianna to help me make sense of the mess that is my fucking mind.

Getting in my car, I plug in the coordinates for Gianna’s office and start the engine.

Driving has generally been a pleasant pastime—one where I could relax and forget about my problems for a moment. Yet as I get closer and closer to my sister’s place, I can’t help but go over what I remember in an attempt to make some sense of it so I can convey it more properly.

Deep in thought, I don’t even realize the car following me until it’s too late. My eyes widen as I spot it into the side mirror. More alarming is the fact that it’s too close to me for comfort.

I can’t afford to bring anyone dangerous in Gianna’s life, so instead of continuing with my course I exit the main road, the other car following suit.

At first, I think it could be just a scout, but as soon as we’re out of public eye, the car becomes increasingly aggressive, hitting my bumper and trying to take me off the road.

Veering to the right, I spare a glance to the GPS, noting that I’m somewhere at the periphery of the city—certainly the area looks abandoned enough. There would be no casualties if a fight were to erupt.

The car keeps taunting me, hitting my bumper before retreating.

In the beginning, I’m more than sure I can deal by myself with that.

But I’m not in the right headspace, and that severely affects the speed of my movements.

Where I should try to avoid getting hit, I barely manage to swerve after it happens.

‘Damn it,’ I curse out, my hand already reaching for my gun.

Yet one moment is all it takes for my attention to be occupied by something else and for the other car to take advantage of it.

No longer a playful hit, this time it catches me at the right angle to push my car off the road. It’s with enough strength that I lose control of the steering wheel.

The road is elevated, which means I’m fucking free falling.

Holding on tightly, I say a small prayer that the car won’t get too damaged on the way down—and me with it.

A few flips and bumps on the uneven ground and it finally stabilizes itself in a ditch.

The airbag flies in my face as I draw a deep breath in, trying to calm myself and think straight for a moment.

I need to get out first. Yes, that’s the most important. I don’t know what got damaged in the tumble to the ground and an explosion could easily be afoot.

Getting my bearings together, I unsnap my seatbelt. Taking my gun with me, I kick at the car’s door until it gives way, allowing me to exit the vehicle.

My head hurts like hell, and as I bring a hand up, it’s to note blood on my fingers. Blinking, I realize some of it is also pouring down my face.

‘Fuck…’ I mutter, bringing my arm to my forehead and wiping most of the blood away.

I must have hit my head against the steering wheel before the airbags got deployed.

Stepping away from the car, I do a quick assessment of the situation while pinging my location to Carlos to ask for backup.

I’m not afraid of facing a few men out for blood, but I’m not yet sure how bad my head wound is, and considering my sight is starting to fog a little, I’d say I have a small window of time before I’m out of commission.

Sure enough, a few seconds later and I see a few men coming down the hill, all dressed in black suits and carrying weapons with them.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Four isn’t that bad. If I’m fast.

My aim is also likely faulty, this fucking headache making it hard to focus.

Yet, focus I must.

They don’t notice me right away, and I take advantage of that to hide behind a tree nearby.

Two of the men head straight for the car, while the other two look around, one seemingly talking on the phone.

Right as I note the two open the car doors and look around, I aim my gun to the gas canister, shooting.

This time, my aim doesn’t fail me as the effect is instantaneous, an explosion erupting from the car and swallowing the two guys up.

The other two are already on me, noting my location and running towards me, guns up, fingers on triggers.

I duck to the ground to avoid the incoming bullets, all the while aiming my own gun towards the closest one to me and managing to hit him in the right shoulder. He drops to the ground with a pained cry, but the other one is a different story. As I try to aim, my sight gets foggy, a ringing in my ear making it very hard to get a clean shot. Instead, my bullet ends up grazing his shoulder. Yet it’s enough to get him to drop his gun.

Knowing I can’t waste any time with bad shots, I drop my gun in favor of my bare hands. A few steps and I’m on him before he can get his bearings together from the previous shot.

Curling my fingers into a fist, I bring it to his face with enough force that a tooth jumps out of his mouth. Not one to waste a good opportunity, I take advantage of his shocked state to land blow after blow.

He throws some weak punches my way, one which catches me in my right temple and makes me see triple for a moment. But I simply close my eyes and let my other senses lead me as I continue to hit until my knuckles reach bone. Blood spatters all over my front, and as I confirm he’s out, I finally step aside.

With a ragged breath, I try to calm myself, but the pain in my head only seems to double with each passing moment.

I don’t know how much time passes, but as I spot some other figures in the distance, I’m ready to start this all over again—as many times as it’s necessary.

I only know I can’t die—won’t die. Not now, and not like this.

Wiping the blood off my face again, I stagger to my feet, taking a few steps before realizing it’s not the enemy.

‘Carlos,’ I rasp out, putting my hand up.

The sun hits my eyes right at that moment, and the earth seems to shift as I lose my footing, collapsing to the ground.

It’s not long before I’m out. For good this time.

‘Raf? Can you hear me?’

It’s her voice. It’s always her voice.

Pain radiates from somewhere in my temples, and as I struggle to open my eyes the light almost blinds me.

‘Fuck,’ I mumble, bringing my hand to shield my eyes.

‘He’s awake,’ Noelle declares, and I note she’s by my side, her hands wrapped around my wrist.

She has a worried look on her face, her lips trembling as she assesses me.

‘Pretty girl, are you ok?’

‘Me? You’re asking me if I’m ok, Raf? You’re the one with a massive concussion right now. God, you must have scared ten years off my life when I got the phone call you were at the hospital. What were you thinking…’

She drones on, but I can’t focus on her words. Not when my lips tip us as my eyes accommodate to the daylight streaming through the window which bathes her in light, making her look like an ethereal fairy.

So pretty. So fucking beautiful.

‘You’re beautiful,’ I simply say.

‘Raf,’ she crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing at me. ‘Did the blow to your head addle your brains?’

I try to shake my head, wincing at the sharp pain.

‘Nope,’ I smile through gritted teeth. ‘Your beautiful face is exactly what I needed to feel better.’

‘Flatterer,’ she mumbles, but a smile plays at her lips.

Before I know it, she’s on me, her lips on my cheek as she starts peppering small kisses all over my face.

‘You don’t know how much you scared me,’ she breathes out. ‘But you’re fine. You’re fine and it’s all that matters.’

I grab her hand, squeezing tightly in a gesture of comfort.

‘Where is Carlos? Can you ask him to come in?’

‘He’s outside. He let me have a moment with you when he saw you were waking up.’

‘How long…’ I frown. ‘How long was I out?’

‘A few hours,’ she sighs. ‘But that’s already a few hours too many. I’m not letting you take that type of risk again.’

‘Nothing happened, pretty girl. I’m fine.’

She huffs, but continues kissing me. Only after she’s thoroughly covered every inch of my face does she draw back, looking pensive.

‘Oh well, I suppose I could call Carlos back in now,’ she sighs as if it’s the hardest thing she’s ever done.

A perpetual smile on my lips, I watch as she opens the door to my salon, asking Carlos to come in before closing it again and resuming her place by my side.

‘Glad to see you’re back to normal,’ Carlos adds dryly, surveying me up and down with a sardonic smile.

‘Not you, too,’ I groan. ‘We need to focus on who was after me. Is it Ortega again? Or…’

‘We ID-ed the men, and safe to say they are part of Ortega’s network. They all had warrants on their heads for a slew of crimes.’

‘Damn it,’ I purse my lips. ‘I guess Ortega is really taking his mission seriously.’

‘He’s floundering, Raf. Of course he is. He needs support—financial support. And you’re his ticket to getting Michele’s backing.’

‘Somehow I doubt that,’ I grumble.

‘What do you mean?’ Carlos asks.

‘If Michele truly wanted me dead, I would be dead,’ I state confidently. Maybe in the beginning I’d thought his thirst for revenge would compel him to see me to my grave. But after so many failed attempts, after so many times when he’d had the opportunity to end me, I don’t think that’s his objective anymore—if it ever was.

He wanted me to suffer, yes. But I don’t think he truly wanted me dead.

‘So even if he does kill me. Auch,’ I wince when Noelle pokes me.

‘No one is killing you,’ she gives me a deadly look.

‘Right, so even if he would,’ I look at her as she gives me a small nod, as if that sentence construction is rather acceptable. ‘I don’t think he would gain anything from Michele.’

‘But he doesn’t know that. And for as long as he thinks he will secure the cash in exchange for your head, he’ll keep coming after you.’

‘And I’ll keep fighting back,’ I roll my eyes.

‘Or we kill him,’ Noelle suddenly suggests.

Both Carlos and I turn to look at her.

‘It’s the easiest course of action,’ she shrugs.

‘With the exception that we have no idea where he is. He’s like a fucking rat, hiding in any sewer he can find,’ Carlos sighs.

We go over a few strategies before Noelle practically shoos Carlos out of the room, telling him I need to rest.

‘It’s not that bad,’ I try to tell her, but she just won’t have it.

‘It’s bad enough that you have to spend the night here for observation. So don’t you try to get out of it,’ she says resolutely while making herself comfortable on the couch on the other side of the room.

Getting myself to a sitting position, I wince a little as I feel the ghost of a pain in my skull.

‘Pretty girl,’ I pause, thinking how to approach this. Given the danger, I don’t want her anywhere around me. Especially in a hospital where anyone could attack. But I also know it won’t be easy to dissuade her from staying with me. ‘I don’t want you to spend the night here.’

Her mouth falls open in shock, and in no time she’s off the couch and marching towards me.

‘You don’t want me here?’ She blinks in outrage.

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ I put a hand up. ‘I don’t want you where you could be in danger. And that’s here, by my side.’

‘So I should just let you face the danger all by yourself?’ Her arms crossed over her chest, she gives me a look that would kill a weaker man on the spot.

‘No,’ I sigh. ‘What I’m trying to say is that I would be more at peace knowing you’re at home, where we have guards and state-of-the-art security. Carlos can stay with me in case they think to attack again.’

She doesn’t seem convinced as she’s staring at me, tapping her foot on the floor.

‘Please, you know how much it stresses me out if you’re in danger. I won’t be able to think straight in combat either,’ I add, semi-guilting her into thinking it’s going to make me sloppier in battle—which isn’t entirely untrue.

A bit more back and forth and it seems my plan to convince her to go home is working, especially as she calls Carlos and makes him promise to stay by my side the entire night.

With that out of the way, it takes one more hour for her to finally unglue herself from my side since she takes one step away from me before coming back for one more kiss. I can’t say I’m mad at it, though, because it’s hard enough for me to be parted from her, too. But in this instance, her safety is all that matters.

Eventually she does leave, taking the guards with her back home. We promise to text throughout the night, but she couldn’t leave without threatening Carlos that if something happened to me he’d have to deal with her.

‘Your wife is funny,’ he comments after she leaves.

I shake my head, smiling. She is. For such a tiny thing she surely is determined. But that’s just one of the many things I love about her.

Getting myself more comfortable, I grab my tablet and both Carlos and I get to work—or as much as I can do considering I’m still pretty dizzy from the accident.

Noelle and I continue texting well into the night and I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

The morning comes and after a rather lengthy medical exam, the doctor approves my discharge.

Carlos stretches his body, the small couch from my salon clearly not the best for his big frame.

‘Shall we?’ he asks, stifling a yawn.

‘Yeah, just a second. Noelle’s not answering my calls,’ I frown as I dial her number again. It’s unlike her to not pick up the phone on the third ring. And she’s not answering my texts either.

‘Maybe she left her phone in another room. Don’t despair.’

‘People are gunning for me, Carlos. If she’s not answering…’ I trail off, panic taking hold of me.

But I can’t afford to do that. No, I need to think logically. Maybe Carlos is right.

Though I am reluctant to do this, I dial the security I’d placed around the building, asking some of them to check up on her—just in case.

In the meantime, I put on some clean clothes, ready to leave once everything is sorted with my discharge slip.

Yet the news I receive is anything but reassuring. The guards are scrambling to give me an answer, the excuses flowing out of them.

My wife isn’t at home. No sign of struggle in the house.

Our spare car isn’t in the parking lot. And they haven’t seen her exit the apartment.

There is absolutely no sign of Noelle.

What the fuck?

My hands tighten around my phone, my paranoia increasing by the minute. How could she have simply disappeared into thin air?

‘She could be on the way here?’ Carlos offers an optimistic alternative.

‘Or someone could have taken her,’ I add between gritted teeth. My pulse is pounding, my temples throbbing both with pain and worry.

But how else could there be absolutely no trace of her if

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

If anything happens to Noelle because of me I won’t ever forgive myself.

‘Easy, Raf. The guards said there was no sign of forced entry, nor a struggle.’

‘Something must have happened,’ I speak fast, already imagining the worst. ‘I need to leave. I need to…’

I take a step forward just as the door to my salon opens, the person I’d least expected striding through.

‘Michele…’

He’s dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt topped with a leather jacket and leather gloves. His dark hair curls to his shoulders, emphasizing his pale features and those otherworldly eyes.

‘Well, hullo brother,’ he smiles, that predatory smile of his telling me something is afoot.

‘Where is Noelle?’ I immediately demand. If he’s here, then he must have had something to do with her disappearance.

‘Where is she, indeed?’ He muses, amused. ‘Tell your watch dog to stand down. I’m not here for any nefarious purposes,’ he motions towards Carlos who’d already drawn up his weapon.

‘Get to the point, Michele,’ I roll my eyes at him.

‘Right, about your wife,’ he chuckles. ‘I saw her this morning, you know,’ he suddenly says, though I recognize it as an attempt to rile me.

Taking a deep breath, I calm myself before I speak.

‘Where?’

‘Easy, easy. I’ll tell you if,’ he pauses, looking at me expectantly. No doubt he’s enjoying the way I’m barely in control of myself. The thought anything happening to Noelle makes me physically ill, and I’m not about to let that happen.

‘If?’

‘If you let me tell you a little story.’

‘Cut the crap, Michele. What do you want?’

‘Like I said. Let me tell you a little story and I’ll give you all the information you want. Including,’ he smiles again, ‘Ortega’s location.’

My eyes widen and I shoot a look to Carlos, who gives me a brisk nod.

‘Fine.’

‘Wonderful. And to see I’m not too gauche, I even brought a gift,’ he declares as he opens the door, ushering someone in.

Instinctively, I take a step back.

‘What… How… I killed her…’ I stammer, the shock of seeing her making me reel.

‘I just wanted you to believe you did,’ Michele shrugs. ‘Despite what you may think of me, I don’t go around slaughtering innocents. And if there is one innocent in this whole debacle, it’s her,’ he motions to Lucero.

Living and in the flesh.

‘That syringe you administered only stopped her heart for a few moments,’ Michele casually says, revealing the entire debacle at the warehouse as nothing more than a psychological game. He never intended to kill either her, or Noelle, did he?

‘Why are you doing this?’ I ask, unable to comprehend his angle. All his actions have been contradictory. He either wants to kill me, or he doesn’t. He then tries to do it, but he never does. Just what the hell is his deal?

‘Because, dear brother, I still care about you. And because of that I want you to know the truth,’ he shrugs.

‘The truth?’ What the hell is Michele about? My head might still be pounding, but I doubt this nonsense I’m hearing is a product of my head injury.

I narrow my eyes at him. If he’s saying he cares about me then something is definitely wrong. Yet if all it takes to find out Ortega’s location and what he knows about Noelle’s disappearance, then I’m willing to hear him out.

‘Spill, what truth?’ I demand, rather impatiently, Noelle still foremost in my mind.

‘The truth about the monster you’re living with,’ he smirks. ‘Lucero here will tell you everything that happened at Sergio’s hacienda. I think it’s time you finally found out why your dear wife was called la diabla,‘ his tone drips with satisfaction.

Lucero starts speaking.

And I listen.

To my utter surprise, this little story changes everything.