Chapter 1: The Sins of Noelle: Chapter 1

‘You can’t continue like this, Raf,’ Carlos reproaches from the other end of the line.

‘And what do you suppose I do?’ I ask drily. ‘Try finding out your wife might be a psychopath who birthed your child without you knowing. A child that is no longer alive,’ I add pointedly, anguish lodging in my throat anew at the thought of that poor little soul who never got the chance to live.

‘That’s what Lucero said. You forget it was Michele who brought her in to confess. I would take everything she says with a grain of salt.’

‘Maybe I would have. If I didn’t catch Noelle in Ortega’s room, his blood would be all over her. Maybe I would have, if she didn’t confirm it with her own fucking mouth, Carlos. She admitted it to my face. That it was my child who died. That…’ I trail off as I take a deep gulp of air.

Already, I feel myself getting worked up as I remember the events from five days ago.

To think that I’ve been living with a stranger this whole time…

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? She fooled us all.

Even I, who I thought knew her best, knew her least.

God, but how could she have looked into my eyes and lie to me like that?

Every time we talked about her memories, she would give me one of her sweet smiles, assuring me I would be the first to know when she remembered.

Joke’s on me, isn’t it?

While I was wishing her memory would never come back so she wouldn’t suffer the repercussions of it, she must have been laughing at me while remembering everything.

‘But did you listen to her entire explanation? Did you hear the whole story?’ He continues, pushing me into a corner because…I hadn’t.

I’d been so angry that I’d simply shut her out after I’d gotten her confession. And for almost a week now, I’ve barely seen her.

Closed off in my office, I’ve slept and eaten here—anything so I don’t come face to face with her.

How the hell could she have acted so innocent when I’d told her about my recent flashback about a woman raping me? How could she have assured me it was all a dream when it had been her. All along, it had been her.

Fuck… How the hell did she fool everyone?

Slowly, Cisco’s little clues and ominous warnings come to mind, and I realize he’d known all along. Maybe not all the details, but he’d known her.

Suddenly, a lot of things are starting to make sense. Most of all the fact that Cisco may not have been the tyrannical older brother I’d believed him to be.

‘I’ll talk to you later,’ I tell Carlos, closing before offering a reply to his previous question. Hanging up, I toss my phone on my desk, and I bring my fingers to my temples, slowly massaging them.

Do I want answers? Yes. Do I trust myself to be in the same room as Noelle without strangling her? Debatable.

At some point, I know I’ll have to confront her and have everything out in the open. But not now. Not when my wounds are still raw and bleeding, reopened after so many years.

I’d thought the hacienda was the most dehumanizing experience there could be, and after suffering Armand for a few months, that’s saying something. But to hear that it had been even more than I remembered? That not only had I been exploited physically through forced labor and drained emotionally with those drug-induced comas, but that I’d also been assaulted by the woman I loved most in the world?

And I’d loved her at that time too.

A sardonic smile pulls at my lips as I imagine how she must have done it. During the day she’d come to me, pretending to be my friend and forbidden love, sharing her soul with me—if any of that was even true—while at night she’d simply take advantage of me to fulfill some sick perversions.

Yet the questions abound.

Why?

Had it been a mere sexual perversion, or has she purposefully used me as her drug-addled stallion?

Days of ruminating over this matter and I cannot make any sense of…anything. And it’s all because I don’t know this, Noelle. I don’t know this woman, who by all rights is my wife, yet is nothing more than a stranger.

Where before I’d thought her sweet, innocent and kind, it couldn’t be further from the truth, could it? Yet, some of that sweetness still clings to her, to her expressions and the way her doe-like eyes regard me with deeply entranced sorrow.

But it’s all an act.

She’s sweet, but only to lure me into her clutches.

Cisco had known that all along. And as that thought crosses my mind, I pick up my phone again, dialing his number.

‘DeVille,’ he answers promptly.

‘Noelle. What did you mean before when you said I don’t know her?’

There’s a pause, a faint chuckle echoing on the line.

‘So, you finally figured it out?’

‘What did you mean by it?’

‘Meet me,’ he says, clicking his teeth. ‘At the end of the week at my home. Four in the afternoon.’

‘Why not say it now?’

‘Because I can’t possibly summarize a lifetime, can I?’ he drawls in a languid voice. ‘But if you’re calling, I’m guessing you’ve had some kind of epiphany about her. Who did she kill?’

My eyes widen in shock at his direct question.

‘Ah, I see I’m right,’ he continues when I don’t reply. ‘Noelle is…complicated.’

‘She killed Ortega,’ I state, curious to see his reaction.

‘I was wondering if she would. She got the address from me, you know. Broke into my house and all that,’ he whistles.

‘What? When?’ I frown at that piece of news.

‘When you were in the hospital,’ Cisco chuckles. ‘She’s quite the chameleon, isn’t she?’

‘End of the week at four. I’ll see you then.’

Cisco continues to laugh.

‘Be careful. You’re safe since you’re her weakness. But anyone else… You might want to put a leash on her.’

‘Right. I’ll take that under advisement,’ I add drily before ending the call.

My lip twitches in annoyance at Cisco’s blasé attitude and his sick sense of humor. But of course, he’d derive amusement from his sister being a psychotic killer. Aren’t they cut from the same cloth?

At the same time, his words echo in my mind—that Noelle had broken into his home to get Ortega’s address. And then she’d gone and killed him herself.

Why, it’s clear.

For me.

She’d killed him for me. Because he’d hurt me.

I bring my fist to my chest, banging lightly before rubbing at the spot over my heart.

Fuck, but I must be equally as sick to find that gesture sweet. Yet I can’t deny that the thought that she’d go to such lengths for me makes me…hard.

Shit.

‘Shit, shit, shit,’ I curse as I hit the table, the loud noise resounding in my entire office.

I need to shove all my tender feelings towards her in a box until I can resolve the messy ones—the confusion, hate, and disbelief I feel at knowing what she’s done to me. And though thus far I’ve avoided confronting the problem head on, to fully move on I need to do it.

Because I’d been out most of the time and I have very little recollection of my time at the hacienda, I cannot conceptualize the fact that this could have happened to me. That Noelle would have…drugged me and fucked me while I was barely conscious.

For fuck’s sake, she had my child!

Of everything, that is the one thing that hurts the most, both in the fact that it had been conceived without my knowledge or consent, and that he was gone before I could even meet him.

She’d said it had been a boy.

A son.

I had a son, and I didn’t even know about it.

My lips twitch as a sad smile pulls at my features.

And now that I know about him, I can’t do anything.

He’s already gone.

God, but how do I come to grips with that? I can barely understand my own feelings—if what I feel is anger at what she’s done, or grief at knowing I had a child…who died.

How does one deal with that?

So lost in my own thoughts I am that I barely notice the door as it creeps open.

My head whips up, my eyes narrowing on the small form tentatively walking inside.

Closing the door behind her, she fits herself to the wooden frame, her hands behind her back, her eyes big and fearful.

She’s looking at me as if I might kill her any moment when it’s her that killed my goddamn heart.

‘What are you doing here, Noelle?’ I snap at her.

She visibly flinches, her features paling as she swallows hard.

My eyes trace the column of her neck, sliding lower as I realize what she’s wearing.

A flimsy dark violet satin nightgown that leaves little to the imagination as the material clings to her curves, hugging her breasts until her nipples are poking through.

‘Can we…talk?’ she asks uncertainly.

I raise a bored eyebrow at her, leaning back in my chair and giving her my attention—yet it’s not in the way she wants.

Going by the way she’s dressed, she doesn’t have any discussion in mind. Rather, she’s here to try her wiles on me—use her body to seduce me where her words no longer have any effect.

I can immediately tell that is her goal, just as I know that she’s convinced she will succeed.

Ah, my little liar. I have bad news for you.

My cock might get hard for you, but my heart is already made of stone.

‘About?’

‘Us. This situation… Will you let me tell you what happened? You can judge me after. But first, please…’ she wets her lips as she starts towards me.

Every single goddamn movement she makes is the epitome of sensuality. She might fear my rejection, but she’s banking on using her sexuality to ensnare me—as she’s done from the beginning.

A twitch in my cheek alerts me to my mounting anger and the fact that I’m no longer doing anything to disguise it.

Who the hell does she think she is?

She sashays her hips as she walks towards me, stopping right by my desk as she places one hand to support herself on the surface of the table. She leans ever so slightly towards me, pushing her tits in my face.

I pretend to not notice the triumphant smile that tips at her lips as I purposefully glide my eyes down her chest, zoning in on the valley of her breasts before admiring the way her nipples pebble even further against her dress.

She thinks she has me, doesn’t she?

For fuck’s sake, does she think I’m such a mindless fool that I’ll forget everything she’s done just because she’s flashing her tits in front of me? That I’m so weak I’ll let myself be led by my dick despite everything that happened between us?

If she thinks that strategy is going to work, she’s sorely mistaken. How could it ever work when it reminds me further of her crimes? By using her sexuality to get a reaction out of me, she’s showing me that it’s the only thing she has going for her.

God, but how could I have ever thought her innocent? How the hell could I have thought her naïve and pure when she’s the furthest thing from it?

I don’t answer, merely leaning back in my chair, my eyes narrowed at her as I wait for her to make her move.

Though I can’t believe the gall of her, I can’t help but feel a little curious as to what she has to say.

‘I know I’m likely the last person you want to see now,’ she starts again, her voice trembling. ‘And I tried to give you time. I swear to God I tried… But I can’t go on like this, Raf. I can’t bear the thought that you might hate me… Forever…’ she trails off, her eyes glossy with unshed tears.

‘Whose fault is it, Noelle?’ I finally speak, my voice coming out harsh and unyielding.

She blinks, swallowing hard.

‘Mine,’ she whispers as she averts her gaze.

‘At least you admit that,’ I scoff mockingly.

‘Will you let me explain, please? Yes, I admit that I behaved badly—that I did bad things. But there’s always a context isn’t there?’ she asks with half a smile, no doubt trying to elicit some sympathy from me. ‘You can judge me all you want after I tell you what happened, and I will accept whatever you decide. Just…’ she licks her lips, her eyes wide and fearful—enough that it makes me wonder if this is all an act or not.

‘And do you really think I would believe a word you say, Noelle?’

She flinches at my question.

‘Do you think I’d trust you again when all you’ve told me so far have been lies?’

‘I didn’t lie…’ she’s quick to protest before her eyes go wide with realization.

‘You didn’t lie?’ I raise a brow at her, tilting my head and studying her.

She looks so small and frail in that flimsy dress of hers. She might have wanted to come across as sexy and seductive, but the more I look at her, the more I see only one thing—fear.

She’s only trying to put on a strong front, but deep down, she’s petrified.

My gaze dips to her fingers and the way she fidgets with her nails, digging them in her skin until droplets of blood pool to the surface. It’s one of her habits when she finds herself in an uncomfortable situation. That’s when I realize that she might be a veritable actress, but she’s still human.

The signs of her deceit had been there all along. I’d just been too fucking wrapped up in her to realize—too goddamn blind to anything but my love for her.

‘I may have omitted some things, but I didn’t lie to you, Raf. I didn’t lie to your face,’ she shakes her head vehemently.

Before I can stop myself, my fingers close around the delicate skin of her neck, gripping tightly as I bring her face close to mine.

‘You didn’t lie?’ I repeat, my tone biting.

She blinks repeatedly, surprised to see the change in me.

‘Raf…’ she yelps, her arms flailing by her side before her hands come to rest on my wrist, trying to escape my grip.

My lip twitches in disgust. At her. At myself. At this whole fucking situation.

With a push, I fling her from me. She stumbles back, her expression shocked.

‘Leave,’ I rasp.

She looks at me for a moment before she steps back.

My chest rises and falls with every breath as I try to control myself. Yet as she reaches the door, it’s not to open it and leave me the fuck alone.

Her fingers on the lock, she turns it to the side, effectively locking the door.

Swiveling to face me, she straightens her spine before she reaches for the thin straps of her dress, pulling them down her shoulders and letting the garment pool at her feet.

Stepping out of the dress, she tentatively walks towards me.

I grind my jaw in displeasure as I realize I’d been right about her strategy from the beginning. She didn’t come to have a genuine conversation—regardless of whether I may, or may not have been inclined to listen to her. She’s only here to get some fucked up ego boost, isn’t she?

‘Raf,’ she says my name in that throaty voice of hers, knowing it will get a reaction out of me. And oh, but it does.

I take deep, even breaths as I try to keep my anger at bay—so that I won’t fucking strangle her on the spot.

‘I missed you,’ she whispers as she approaches, undulating her body so every curve is emphasized.

My treacherous eyes don’t seem to get the memo that I should be indifferent to her as my gaze dips from her face to her torso, admiring the way her full tits bounce with every step. Going lower, I gulp down as I scan her trim waist and flared hips that give way to long, shapely legs.

Noelle might be small, but her body is the stuff of wet dreams.

But then there’s the triangle of dark hair at the apex of her thighs, taunting me with every little movement as I spot the glistening evidence of her arousal clinging to her pussy lips.

Fuck. Me.

My whole body tenses as she stops in front of me, sliding between me and the table.

‘What do you think you’re doing, Noelle?’ I ask in an unbothered tone.

Yet it takes everything in me to pretend to be unaffected when I’m everything but.

I might be mad at her. I might hate all the deceit and despise her for what she’s done.

But even the most horrible news doesn’t erase the fact that I still love her, or that she’s the only woman to ever have such a devastating effect on my body.

Her villainy doesn’t decrease her physical appeal—not one bit.

‘Didn’t you come here to talk?’ I raise a brow at her. ‘So talk. But you can do that clothed, too,’ I remark drily, sneering as I look her up and down.

She’s so fucking close, I can smell her. And as my nostrils flare with the combination of her body wash and her natural musky scent, I find myself worse than before. I’m teetering on the edge, and if she poked me with one finger right now, I’d fall.

Fuck.

Since my days at the hacienda and knowing what it’s truly like to lose control of my body, I’ve done everything in my power to maintain it in all aspects of my life. And having her like this, so close—so fucking close—doesn’t help one bit.

I’m one second away from blowing, and she can sense it, too. She’s banking on it.

‘I didn’t rape you,’ she suddenly says, bringing her eyes to me. ‘Technically,’ she adds after a brief pause.

My lips quirk up in amusement.

‘Technically?’ I repeat, doing my best not to succumb to laughter at her flimsy excuse.

Her nose scrunches up as she purses her lips.

‘Yes, you were drugged and that blurs the lines,’ she eventually admits, still fidgeting with her hands. ‘But even drugged you were conscious enough to give your consent. The drug at the hacienda was different from the one you’re taking now. You, yourself told me that. Then it stands to reason that it would work differently, too. And it did. It was never meant to intoxicate you. The goal was always to alter memory. And that means while you were on it, you were still you—still conscious. It’s just that…’

Damn, but what a sight!

My wife, standing naked before me and trying to argue what constitutes rape and what technically doesn’t.

‘It’s just what?’ I raise my eyebrows.

She takes a deep breath.

‘It made you freer.’

I frown.

‘Explain.’

Her eyes flash at my tone. She rakes her teeth over her lower lip as she brings her hands to my chest, trailing her fingers down my body. Her touch is light, but distracting altogether.

‘You were uninhibited. No longer concerned with right, or wrong. You were you, but untethered to anything that held you back before,’ she finally says.

‘And you think that made it ok for you to fuck me while I’d have no memory of it afterwards?’ I demand harshly.

Her hands suddenly still over my chest.

‘No,’ she whispers, shaking her head. ‘It doesn’t make it ok. I know this now, and I knew it back then.’

‘And you still did it.’

A nod.

‘I still did it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it was the only way I could have you,’ she confesses with a sad smile.

I’m stunned into silence as I can only stare at her, unable to believe the woman I’d fallen in love with and the one before me are one and the same.

I’d always felt there was a side of Noelle that hid beneath her sunny disposition and gentle nature, but I would have never believed it to be something like this.

‘You were married,’ I point out the obvious, curious to see how she would justify that.

She shakes her head, her mouth curling at the corners.

‘I didn’t see myself as married,’ she replies with a careless roll of her shoulders. ‘I never saw myself married to anyone but you,’ she continues.

Despite the moral dilemma of the question, her answer pleases me.

‘And you see nothing wrong with anything you did,’ I state.

I’m not yet ready to question her about Mali. Not when I’m hanging by a thread and any mention of his name could be my trigger. But that doesn’t mean I don’t hold that piece of information close to my heart—the fact that not only had she technically raped me, but she’d also secretly had my child.

‘No,’ she says as she tips her chin up, confidence oozing from her voice. ‘I don’t. I would do it again. And again. And again.’

That surprises me.

‘Is that why you came here?’ I give a sarcastic laugh. ‘How did you think any of this would help your narrative when you know it was wrong and you’d do it again?’

‘I don’t want it to help my narrative,’ she suddenly mentions, her voice serious. ‘I’m not going to skew the facts and give you reason to doubt me again. I just…’ she trails off as she takes a deep breath. ‘I want you to know me. The me I didn’t have the courage to show you before.’

I quickly mask my surprise at her words, especially since I don’t detect any trace of deceit. She really believes this, doesn’t she?’

‘Is that so…’ I muse. ‘What about the you until now? Who was that?’

Her lips spread into a tremulous smile.

‘That? It was part me and part…who I wanted to be. Alas, we don’t always get what we want, do we?’

I narrow my eyes at her.

‘Then it seems we’re at a standstill, are we not? Because the woman I fell in love with, by your own admission, does not exist. That makes our entire relationship invalid.’

‘No,’ she quickly says, coming closer.

She grabs my shirt, her fingers scrunching the material, her face inches away from mine.

‘No,’ she repeats with a shake of her head. ‘Everything we shared was real, Raf. If there is one person in the world I can be vulnerable with, it’s you—only you. It’s just that there is another side of me outside of us. One that doesn’t need protection, or to be taken care of. One that can take care of herself and her problems. It’s just that…if I’m with you, I don’t want to be that person. I just want to be yours,’ she takes a deep breath, her words uttered with such passion, I feel them in my fucking bones.

Yet no matter how pretty her words are, or how much they affect me because they are what I’ve always wanted to hear, I can’t deny the truth of the situation.

‘You should leave,’ I add quietly, not trusting myself to say more.

Disentangling her hands from my shirt, I push her aside.

She continues to shake her head at me.

‘No. No, Raf. I can’t leave,’ she says, her words becoming frantic. ‘Five days. One hundred twenty-one hours and five minutes. That’s how long it’s been since we’ve last been together. And I. Can’t. Bear. It,’ she breathes heavily as she bangs her small fists against my chest. ‘Please don’t send me away. I’ll answer all your questions. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. Just please…’

‘Noelle,’ I sigh as I push her from me. ‘I don’t want you here and I don’t want to hear what you have to say.’

‘But…Raf…’

‘As you said, I have no memory of those times I was under the influence. That means I don’t know whether I gave consent or not. I don’t know what you did to me. You or God knows who else…’

‘No,’ she interrupts me. ‘I swear to you that no one else touched you,’ she adds anxiously. ‘I would have never let anyone harm you. You must believe me.’

‘But that’s just the thing, Noelle. You could tell me the earth revolves around the sun and I would still doubt it. Please leave before we make this worse.’

‘No… Raf… Where does that leave us?’

The last question is barely audible as she stares at me with wide, teary eyes.

I don’t answer her. The slight downturn of my lips is enough to convey what I think the future will bring—and enough to put more terror into her features.

‘Raf… It’s still me. I’m still the same Noelle, please.’

‘You need to leave, Noelle. I want to be alone,’ I tell her once more.

When she doesn’t move, I do it myself.

I get to my feet and by-pass her to leave the room.

Despite my rather calm disposition until now, I know I won’t be able to maintain the ruse for much longer. Not as her words churn in my mind and make me want to explode with anger—at her, at my brother, at everyone who had a hand in what happened to me.

Suddenly, the past is no longer the past. I’ve worked far too hard these last two years to move on just for one moment to make everything unravel and the very foundation I built crumble.

But that’s what it’s about to happen.

Her presence. Her excuses. Her blatant indifference and her ambivalence towards right and wrong. Every single word that comes out of her mouth is slowly making me lose what little control I have left.

I only get to the middle of the room before she jumps in front of me, placing her slight body in my way to stop my advance.

‘You can’t leave me,’ she declares, her eyes searching mine.

I give nothing away as I blank my features.

Tension runs high as my body tenses at her touch. Yet I don’t give her the pleasure of seeing how much she affects me. I simply continue to show her my emotionless expression and the way nothing she can say or do will change my mind.

‘I told you I wanted to be alone, Noelle. Do me the decency to respect at least that boundary, even if you don’t see it as such,’ I add sarcastically.

‘No,’ she shakes her head. ‘We need to solve this, Raf. Now. Before it festers. Before…’ she closes her eyes. ‘I can’t bear it that you’re upset with me. That you…’

‘Have you even thought about how I feel?’

She blinks in confusion at my question.

‘This is all about you and the effect the separation has on you. But have you thought about what your actions did to me? The hurt I feel?’

‘Yes,’ she whispers. ‘Not only have I thought about it, I knew from the beginning that if…’

‘And there it goes,’ I cut her off. ‘You say you didn’t lie to me, but if you knew how I’d react to the truth, you sure went out of your way so I wouldn’t find out. How is that not a lie?’

She stares at me for a moment, and for the first time, it seems I shut her up.

Shaking my head at the situation, I move towards the door.

‘No,’ she repeats, placing herself in front of me again. ‘Please don’t leave. Please,’ she begs.

And fuck me if her words don’t manage to get a reaction out of me.

‘I don’t want to see you, Noelle. I don’t want to hear from you. I sure as fuck don’t want to spend another moment in your presence. What’s so fucking hard to understand?’ I grit out.

Before I realize what she means to do, she drops to her knees in front of me.

Her hands are on my belt as she quickly unbuckles it.

‘What are you doing?’ I enunciate each word carefully, but I don’t stop her. Not when I’m curious what she’s going to do—how far she’s going to take this. It seems that if talking won’t work to her advantage, then…

‘You’re not indifferent to me,’ she says, looking up at me with a hesitant smile on her lips as she traces the hard ridge of my dick with her fingers.

I steel myself against the shudder that goes down my spine at her light touch, simply giving her a bored look.

‘You’re naked. I’m a man,’ I shrug. ‘We both know I find you attractive, Noelle. That’s never been the problem.’

‘Then fuck me,’ she suddenly says. ‘If words don’t work, then let our bodies do the talking. Your body knows me, Raf. It recognizes me, and only me, and it knows that I would never do anything bad to it.’

I blink in shock, unable to muster a reply.

She doesn’t get it. She simply…doesn’t get it.

Mistaking my silence for agreement, she slides my zipper down, reaching inside and wrapping her fingers around my hard cock. And I am hard—have been since the moment she walked in and flaunted her too fucking perfect body in front of me.

She nuzzles her face against my shaft, bringing it to her lips and laying a quick kiss to the head before sucking me deep in her mouth.

I bite back a moan at the onslaught of sensations as I struggle to keep my head about me.

She’s smart. I’ll give her that. She knows that our physical chemistry is one of a kind, and that her effect on my senses can have an intoxicating effect—ironically, almost as potent as drugs. She’s aware that I’m weak as fuck where it comes to my desire for her so she’s trying to use it against me.

My fists clench by my side as it dawns on me just how much of a stranger the woman in front of me is. At the same time, though, I realize that the only way to beat her at this game is to truly show her she cannot control me—not with her body, nor with these petty tactics.

So I don’t move.

I push back against the treacherous sensations she elicits off my body as I concentrate all my willpower towards not coming. Even if her mouth is a hot, wet heaven; even if it’s been almost a week since I’ve last been inside of her, I won’t give her that satisfaction.

She brings her gaze to mine, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock as she flutters her lashes seductively. Her tongue swirls around the underside, making it increasingly harder to maintain my composure.

‘Are you done?’ I ask in a bored tone.

Her brows furrow at my question and she draws back, my cock falling from her mouth and leaving a trail of saliva behind.

‘Raf…’

I don’t let her continue as I grab her chin between my fingers, jolting her towards me.

‘Do you think this is going to magically solve anything?’ I ask as I look her straight in the eye, my gaze as unyielding as my tone.

Her eyes are so damn clear and beautiful, reminding me once more of the ruse she’d played on me, pretending to be some goddamn pure little angel when all along she’d been the devil in disguise.

She licks her lips as she looks at me, not daring to reply.

‘You’re pathetic if you think a pity fuck would solve anything,’ I shake my head at her.

‘Pity…Pity fuck?’ she repeats incredulously.

‘What else could it be when I can barely stand the sight of you?’

She blinks, pain entering her gaze, and fuck if that doesn’t affect me.

Why the hell do I have to be so weak when it comes to her? Even knowing all that she’s done and it still cuts me on the inside to see her hurt.

‘I’ll take it,’ she whispers. ‘Pity fuck or not, I’ll take it. I’ll be as pathetic as you want me to be. I’ll beg on my knees. I’ll do anything… Just don’t send me away. Don’t…’ her breath hitches as she tries her best to keep her tears at bay.

‘Fucking hell! Do you have no pride, woman?’ I ask in disgust as her words sink in.

‘No,’ she states confidently. ‘When it comes to you, I don’t.’

Her statement takes me by surprise. Then it angers me.

So this is how she thinks she’ll solve everything? By offering to be my fucktoy?

Bitter laugh bubbles inside of me.

She doesn’t realize what she did wrong because she doesn’t see it as wrong. By her own admission, she’d do it all over again. And now she thinks that if she prostrates herself at my feet I’ll forget all about it and resume our relationship as it was before.

Yet, the biggest question is… What did we even have before? If everything was based on lies, was it even real?

My anger mounts at the situation, regret and despair mingling inside of me at realizing the most beautiful thing in my life had been nothing more than a lie.

A fucking shameless lie.

And as if I were back to the moment I found out about everything, I feel as though the rug’s been swept from beneath my feet, confusion swirling in my mind as well as a deep regret.

After I escaped the hacienda, I had one purpose—get revenge on those who wronged me. More than anything, I wanted to avenge what I believed to be the death of my beloved. Once that goal disappeared, I focused on Noelle as my entire reason for being, her happiness my happiness, her mere presence the only impetus I needed to live. When you remove all that…

I’m left with nothing. Fucking nothing.

And it’s my fault as well as hers because I should have never made her the entire reason for my existence. I should have never fucking put her on a pedestal, worshipping her rather than loving her.

As I stare down at her face, one I’d previously thought perfect, I’m suddenly struck by all the flaws reflecting back.

She’s…human. She’s not perfect—she never was. But the realization leaves a gaping hole in my heart—one that’s bleeding as it’s breathing out in relief. And for the pain it’s causing me with each deflated breath, I want her to suffer too, not only for the past, but for the present, too. For taking away the only crutch I had, the only stable thing in my life.

For making me feel so fucking aimless when just days ago I thought I had it all.

She. Needs. To. Fucking. Suffer.

‘Pity fuck,’ I shake my head, a dark laugh escaping me. ‘Fine. If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get,’ I tell her in the most indifferent tone I can muster. ‘Go to the desk. On your belly. Ass to me.’

Her lashes flutter in surprise, and I expect her to finally snap out of it, curse me and maybe get out of the room and leave me the fuck alone.

But she surprises me when she does neither.

She simply rises to her feet, unabashed by her nakedness as she moves fluidly to the desk. Leaning onto the surface of the table, she tips her ass up, her feet slowly coming apart as she wiggles her hips.

I swallow hard as I get an unobstructed view of her perfect pussy.

But no matter how fucking hard the sight of it makes me, I can’t let this cloud my mind.

Pity fuck…sure. This is the only way to prove to her and myself that my dick doesn’t dictate the show.

Stopping behind her, I bring one finger to her folds, arousal immediately coating my digit.

‘You’re a horny little bitch, aren’t you?’ I mutter, amused when I feel her body tremble at my touch.

‘I can be anything for you,’ she replies in a subdued voice, forcing herself not to move.

‘We’ve clearly ascertained that,’ I give a dry laugh.

She stiffens against me, but she doesn’t reply.

I have to wonder how long she’ll keep this up.

‘Tell me, Noelle,’ I start as I circle her entrance with my finger. ‘How did I fuck you back then? Or did you have to do all the work because I was too out of it?’

‘No,’ she shakes her head against the desk. ‘You were conscious. I told you…’

‘How come I remember differently then?’ I snap.

‘It was one time…’ she whispers.

Her words kick me in the chest with the power of a thousand bullets. Without even thinking, I dig my fingers into her ass, holding her still as I align my cock to her entrance and push inside her in a punishing thrust.

Her body tenses at the invasion, but she’s so fucking wet, I know it’s not pain she’s feeling.

‘Enlighten me then, how did I fuck you?’

She’s breathing heavily as she grips the sides of the table to keep herself still.

‘Tell me,’ I repeat as I hold onto her hips, retreating before surging forth once more.

She releases a sweet moan as she pushes her ass further into me, encouraging me to plunge deeper, fuck her harder. The sensations are heavenly, but when are they not when I’m fucking her? Yet I can’t let myself be hypnotized by that. I can’t let myself be sidetracked.

‘Speak,’ I demand harshly as I grab her neck, squeezing lightly.

‘Like this,’ she utters in a low voice. ‘Like an animal,’ she continues. ‘You fucked me like an animal.’

I can’t help the mocking laughter that escapes me.

‘And that’s how you want it, don’t you? You want to be taken on all fours like a fucking bitch in heat, isn’t that right?’ I ask as I thrust into her, this time harsher than before—so much so she has a hard time muffling her moans.

‘Yes,’ she pants.

‘There we go,’ I chuckle. ‘Finally shedding that innocent act you had going on. God, but you had me,’ I grit my teeth as the memories of our time together assail me. ‘You fucking had me, Noelle.’

‘No,’ she shakes her head, her neck still in my hold. ‘None of it was fake. That’s how I am with you—only with you,’ she says in a breathless moan.

‘Does that mean you were different with other men?’ The question slips past my lips before I can help myself, and the realization that not only is my wife not who she says she is, but she might have a whole different past, makes me want to fucking explode.

I still inside of her, my hand tightening over her neck as scenarios pile up in my head, the thought of her with anyone else tearing me up on the inside.

‘No, no,’ she denies vehemently. ‘I swear to you, Raf.’

‘Funny,’ I scoff. ‘As if I believed anything you said at this point.’

‘I’ll do anything for you to believe me, Raf. You’re my Blue, you know that. My Blue that I love more than anything else in the entire world. How could I let anyone else touch me when you’ve been the love of my life since I was fifteen? When you’re the only man I’ve ever looked at?’ The words pour out of her as she struggles to turn to me and convince me with her beguiling eyes.

And fuck if she’s not halfway there. Because I’m a goddamn fucking fool whose only weakness seems to be this one woman.

But that’s the issue. I’m too fucking weak for her and everything she means to me.

‘Anything,’ I sneer. ‘What about this?’ I ask as I bring my hand to her ass, trailing one finger from her tight hole to her pussy that’s currently stuffed with my cock. ‘Did I fuck you here, too?’

She stills for a moment before shaking her head.

‘Did anyone else?’ My jaw twitches as I utter the question.

‘No,’ she cries out. ‘No one.’

‘So you’ll give it to me?’ I ask innocently. ‘You said anything.’

She nods effusively.

‘Anything,’ she confirms.

I don’t know what comes over me to ask for this, except that I’m seething with jealousy.

I fucking hate her for what she’s done and for her all lies but I can’t help but be cut to my core at thinking she might have been with someone else—that she might have let another man put his hands on her. So much so that I want to put my fucking claim on every little part of her body, take her in every way possible until I’m the only one she can remember—the only one to imprint on her.

How fucked up is that?

How fucked up is the fact that I hate her but I still want her—so much so that I’d fucking kill anyone who ever put a hand on her?

Goddamn, but if she’s insane—and all evidence points to it—then I’m just as much as a lunatic for craving her worse than any drug.

Yet at this point, everything has been set in motion, and I find that I don’t want to stop.

She’s mine.

She’s my fucking wife.

I may hate her, but she’s fucking mine.

Grabbing her ass with both hands, I spit between her cheeks. Sliding out of her pussy, I swirl my finger around her asshole, massaging in the combination of her arousal and my spit.

‘Raf…’ she whimpers as I bring my cock to her little hole, testing the tightness of her muscles.

‘You said this is mine, Noelle. Isn’t that so? That I’m the only one to touch you here,’ I murmur in a caustic tone.

She squeezes her eyes shut as she gives me a brisk nod.

‘Say it. Ask me to fuck you in the ass,’ I smirk.

She licks her lips, a shudder going down her back as I continue to stroke her ring of muscles with the head of my cock.

‘Please,’ she whispers.

‘Beg me,’ I echo her words from before.

‘Please, Raf. You can do anything to me. Anything,’ she pleads, her glossy eyes making contact with mine.

I don’t know what it is that I see in her gaze, but it makes me fucking livid. One moment I’m playing with her, the next I grab her hips as I thrust into her.

Her muscles are tight and unused to such an invasion, seeking to keep me out at every turn. She thrashes against the desk, her small hands clenched into fists as she breathes harshly in and out.

In another life, I would have been more gentle. I would have asked her if she was alright, going slow to let her accommodate to the sensation.

Now? I want her to feel every single thing. I want her to know who’s fucking her and to remember it long after I’m gone from her body—long after I’m gone from her life.

‘Ah,’ she yelps, holding tight to the desk as I bury my cock inside of her in a way I’d never done before.

‘Fuck,’ I mutter in a low tone.

I take a deep, stabilizing breath in an effort to keep myself in check. She’s so fucking tight, she’s squeezing the life out of me. And as I surge forth until I’m buried to the hilt inside her ass, I can’t help the loud groan that escapes me.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She’s breathing equally harshly, her cheek fitted to the cold table as sweat beads on her forehead before she turns away from me.

Gripping her hips, I withdraw almost all the way before thrusting again, establishing a rhythm for the both of us.

Noelle is quiet, holding on to the table as she keeps herself utterly still—letting me have my way with her completely.

Yet the more I fuck her, the more I realize something is wrong.

Despite her verbal confirmation that I can do anything to her, she’s not in the least an active participant.

I slow down as I watch for her cues, something clutching at my heart.

Releasing my bruising hold on her hips, I move my hands higher, caressing her skin and feeling her flinch.

‘Noelle…’ I whisper.

‘Don’t stop,’ she murmurs in a dead voice. ‘Don’t you dare stop, Raf,’ she grits out.

I frown at her vehemence just as she pushes herself back onto my cock.

‘Fuck me,’ she demands.

I hesitate for a second, something niggling at my conscience. But as I see her renewed attempts to get me to move, I give her what she wants, pushing into her again and fucking her harder, faster and so fucking deep my entire cock is enveloped by her warmth and tightness.

The sensation is entirely foreign but it feels so good I can no longer delay my release—not when every clench of her muscles has me fighting for my sanity.

Biting back a moan, I hold her tighter to me as I shoot my load into her ass, my breathing too erratic just like my mind flies for me in the face of this euphoria.

Yet it’s when the haze clears off my mind that I finally see the truth.

A low sound penetrates the air, and as I turn her to face me, I see the truth.

Tears course down her cheeks as she looks at me, her features desolate and echoing the emptiness I feel in my heart.

Why Noelle? Why did you have to do this? Why the hell did you have to kill my heart like this?

The questions are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t utter them out loud.

What’s the point? What’s the fucking point to anything? To this situation or my attempt to humiliate her with sex? What’s the point of anything?

Disgusted at myself and at her, I release her, pulling out of her and stepping back.

She can barely stand on two feet as she slides to the floor, her body glistening with sweat. Drawing her knees to her chest, she regards me through misted lashes, her eyes red and brimming with tears.

My heart breaks as I take her in, and my first instinct is to go to her, hug her to my chest and tell her everything will be alright. That I didn’t want to hurt her; that I will never hurt her again.

But that would be a lie.

‘I’m done,’ I tell her, zipping myself back up.

I don’t wait for her reply as I back out of the room, closing the door behind me for good.