The Moral Dilemma (War of Sins Book 5)
The Moral Dilemma: Chapter 3

NOELLE FELT the blood drain out of her as she stared at her bloody Blue being taken out by two guards. She did her best to control herself as she kept a pleasant smile on her face, yet inside she was dying. There was no other way of describing what she was feeling other than the slow obliteration of her soul.

She should have known Sergio would have something up his sleeve when he’d suddenly decided to throw a banquet for the influential people in the region. Usually those events were planned months in advance. Still, she hadn’t thought he would go this far.

He’d intuited that the man she’d bought meant more to her than she was willing to admit, so he’d tried to put her to the test.

“Bloodthirsty,” he chuckled. “Even with your own fuck toys. I should have realized someone like you had no heart.”

“As if you’re one to talk,” she said and raised a brow at him, smiling sweetly, though she only wanted to throttle him on the spot.

When she’d spotted Rafaelo coming forward with a tray of food, she’d been too shocked to act. All her dreams were suddenly in front of her as she met him for the first time. But she’d never wanted it to be like this. She’d never wanted him to see her as she was. Noelle Villanueva—the wife of the master; the one they all whispered about and cursed her when she wasn’t present.

She knew her reputation just as she knew how hard she’d worked to cultivate it.

People feared her just as they were in awe of her, and that sentiment she’d instilled in them allowed her to maintain her position.

But when Blue had looked upon her, sitting on her golden throne and acting as if she was above everyone else, it had cut her to the core.

For years she’d dreamed about their first encounter, making up countless scenarios in her mind of how he would fall for her, finally reciprocating her feelings. Yet never in her wildest dreams had she imagined it would be like this.

When their eyes had first met, she could have sworn she’d seen in his gaze what she, herself, felt. She thought he’d felt the same thread of fate tying them together, pulling them closer and closer.

It had been there, hadn’t it?

He’d looked at her with awe in his eyes, his body angled towards her as if he’d like nothing better than to reach for her, pull her into his arms where she belonged.

It had been there, until it hadn’t.

Until Sergio had leaned in to dare her to show her to show her weakness for him—something she could never do, for it would forever put a target on his back.

So she’d acted the only way she could. She’d treated him like the slave he was, not worthy to gaze upon her with such adoration.

In the span of one moment—one fucking decisive moment—she’d had to prove to everyone that her heart was indeed made of stone.

So she’d thrown the plate.

She’d… hurt him.

God, but it hurt her more than it could possibly have him.

In trying to replace him, help him, she’d done nothing but damn him.

She was aware, now more than ever, that she couldn’t even go near him without making Sergio suspicious.

What was I thinking, she asked herself. Yet the answer was clear. She hadn’t been thinking. Rafaelo meant too much for her to be able to think things through. From the beginning, her only purpose had been to get him back, to save him from whatever hell he’d been sold into.

And she’d managed that. But in doing so, she’d pulled him into another hell. One that was quite possibly more dangerous, for now she had plenty of enemies, all waiting for the moment she slipped up.

Noelle had been selfish.

As she continued to stare at the drops of blood on the ground—his blood—she admitted to herself that she’d let her dreams cloud her judgment, just as she’d allowed her feelings to make her feel as if she were invincible.

She wasn’t.

She might have gained some power, but it could always be taken away from her. And as she sneaked a glance at Sergio’s smug face, she knew he was lying in wait for her to make a mistake.

I can’t put Blue in danger. I can’t put a target on his back.

She needed to regroup—and fast. Sergio might think he had one upped her, but it was time she proved him wrong. It was time she showed him that she could be worse than him—in every aspect.

Noelle smiled sweetly at the other attendants as the music started playing again and the food was finally brought in.

Don’t hate me too much, Blue. One way or another, I’ll get you out of here. I’ll get us out of here. You have my promise.

Yet even as she made that vow to herself, she knew she needed to tread carefully. And unfortunately, that meant letting him think the worst of her.

The banquet passed in a blur as Noelle acted as if nothing happened. Luckily for her, it was only a few hours before Sergio dismissed everyone to see to his own business—clearly indicating that the banquet itself had been nothing but a smokescreen to test Noelle’s reaction.

She could barely stand the sight of his smug face as he gave her a satisfied look when she took her leave. So it was only in the privacy of her own room that she could finally break her silence.

“What have I done, Lulu?” She whispered as she paced around her suite.

She was still wearing the gaudy dress Sergio had prepared for her, and as her anger mounted, she pulled at the seams until the intricate designs on the gown were destroyed.

“You need to calm down,” Lucero said, watching her with sad eyes. “You won’t solve anything like this.”

“I thought I was saving him, but I condemned him to an even worse hell. I should have known Sergio would track all of my movements. I should have known he would check my purchases. I should have fucking known, but I was too desperate to replace him to think about that.”

“At least he’s safe.”

“For now. I’m sure Sergio still suspects he means something to me, otherwise he wouldn’t have orchestrated that banquet to gauge my reaction.”

“But you didn’t show any emotion. Even I, knowing how much you love him, wondered for a moment how you could act so… cold and detached. If I bought it, he must have bought it, too.”

Noelle shook her head.

“No. He’s too crafty for that. When you’re the worst, you suspect the worst of other people too. I need to replace a way to kill his suspicions, but how…”

“What if…” Lucero bit her lip apprehensively.

Noelle stopped, her brows rising as she waited for her friend to continue.

“He thinks you care about him, right? What if you made him think you cared about another? I don’t know if it would work, but if you show interest in another slave, maybe that could throw him off until you figure out how to get him out of here.”

Noelle blinked, her eyes widening in surprise.

“You’re right. Oh, God. You’re so right,” Noelle said, coming to Lucero and kissing both her cheeks. “The only way to make sure he’s safe is if Sergio believes there’s someone else—or multiple people. He started being suspicious the moment I implied I might want him as a lover, which was a first for me. As long as I make it a routine… Maybe that would help.” She nodded resolutely to herself.

“I’ll help you the best I can, you know that.”

“Thank you, Lulu. Always the voice of reason.” Noelle smiled fondly. “I wouldn’t be able to do anything without you pulling me out of my own head.”

Noelle tended to become so wrapped up in her own plans that she developed tunnel vision, oftentimes failing to see the dangers lurking nearby. But Lucero was always there for her, and she prized her friend for that.

“We make a good team, don’t we?” Lucero cracked a smile.

“The very best.” Noelle winked. “Can you get me a list of all the current workers at Rafaelo’s temple? I need to see who else I can use,” Noelle added pensively. “If I do this, then I must not only make Sergio believe it, but also my Blue. He can’t know anything, Lulu. If he replaces out who I am… If he realizes what I’ve done…” she shook her head. “Everything will be lost.”

“You think he would hate you for saving him?” Lucero frowned.

“No. Not for saving him,” Noelle paused, a sad smile pulling at her lips. “I know him far too well. He wouldn’t stand still if he realized who I was, and that would get him killed. As long as he’s ignorant…” she swallowed painfully. “As long as he remains ignorant of my identity, I’ll be able to work behind the scenes to replace a way to free him.”

Lucero stared at her for a moment.

“Isn’t it hard?” she whispered.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. God, all I wanted was to go to him, nestle in his arms and tell him how much I love him and how much I’ve fought to get where I am—to get to him. But I can’t. Not yet… And until I can, he’s better off hating me—hating Noelle Villanueva.”

“Surely you could tell him and ask him to be careful. I hate seeing you like this.”

Noelle shook her head vehemently.

“He’s not the type to let things go, Lulu. I’ve never met someone more against injustices than him. Or… Maybe you.” She smiles slyly. “Rafaelo would never allow someone to harm a woman. Just as he would never allow someone to pick on those weaker. It’s why I fell in love with him. He’s simply… the kindest man I’ve ever met—the only one.”

“He doesn’t sound like a man at all,” Lucero added, mischief glinting in her eyes.

Noelle blinked, and in the next second they both burst into laughter.

“We need to finalize our plan, Lulu,” Noelle said a moment later. “Once he’s gone, it will be our turn.”

Lucero suddenly sobered up, her lips tightening as she gave a slow nod.

They’d been discussing a way to put an end to the wretched tradition of the hacienda for good, which not only included getting rid of Sergio, but also of the ideology he had sown.

The problem was that they were only two women facing an entire region of people with deeply entrenched beliefs. Though Noelle had managed to procure some power for herself, she’d quickly realized it wasn’t enough to kill Sergio—not without forfeiting her own life, too. As such, because of the precariousness of the situation, the circumstances of his death must be perfect—perfectly accidental.

Noelle had plenty of opportunities in the past to kill him, but she knew a sly bastard like him would have prepared for such an eventuality—had even said so himself once when she’d threatened him. Whether it was a bluff or not, Noelle didn’t want to take any chances—especially since it wasn’t only her life at stake. There was also Lucero and her darling Rafaelo that she had to consider and care for. And aside from that, there were also the other nameless victims—the women Sergio still exploited, both in his business and for his rituals.

The countless women he sold or gifted to his associates, all under the pretense of a godly prerogative. There were those children that were exploited and abused. And while Noelle didn’t particularly care about others, she knew her Blue would—and he would expect nothing less from her.

Alas, maybe she didn’t share his humanitarian views—not after what she’d been through and what little faith she still had in humanity. But she did care about his opinion of her, and his happiness. Therefore, she knew she needed to act within some bounds that allowed her to exercise her power, but that also limited her from being too cruel with it.

It was one thing to act like a cruel bitch in an attempt to protect him, it was quite another for him to realize she’d been a cruel bitch all along—a fact which she was sure he would never be able to accept.

As such, Noelle needed to act within his moral boundaries, and think as he would. After all, she wanted his admiration and love, never his scorn.

She might disagree with the teachings of the Good Samaritan, but Rafaelo didn’t. That was all she needed to know going forward.

“What are you doing?” Lucero called out, frowning as she saw Noelle take off her dress and put on a pair of trousers and a shirt. “Where are you going?” She paused. “Please don’t do anything stupid…”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to Rafaelo. Even though it physically hurts knowing what he’s being subjected to, I know I can’t take any risks. I’m simply going to teach Sergio a small lesson.” She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“What? What are you talking about? I thought you wanted to plan things out, not act impulsively.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m not acting impulsively. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time,” she chuckled. “It seems Sergio still doesn’t understand that if he’s bad, I can be worse.”

“Noelle? What the hell are you going to do?” Lucero followed as Noelle went to her closet to rummage through her weapon collection.

“Sergio thinks he’s the only one who can be cruel. He still believes I’m scared of him, and that must change.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. You know you can’t kill him. Not yet at least,” Lucero hissed.

“Don’t I know it,” Noelle muttered. “I won’t kill him. I’ll merely show him I can be a worthy opponent,” she said as she pulled out a few knives. “This should ensure that he’ll never dare to try something like that again.”

Was Noelle thinking things through? Maybe. Maybe not. After all, the image of Rafaelo bleeding was forever imprinted on her retina, made even worse by the fact that she’d been the one to make him bleed. She only knew that her beloved had been hurt, and she needed to return that pain tenfold. The rest… The rest could go to hell.

“You’re being impulsive,” Lucero continued, but her voice echoed in the hall, since Noelle was already out of her apartment, striding down the hallway to the dining room.

No, she was being crazy. But she was being insane with rage, hurt and a need to show Sergio she was worse than the rumors being whispered about her at the hacienda.

And she had a few hours to prepare a surprise for Sergio—one to tip the scales of the disastrous banquet.

By the time she was done, Noelle was pretty satisfied with how everything had ended up. She was just waiting for the guest of honor, who should be arriving just about… now.

The door creaked open as Sergio stepped inside the dining room.

Noelle had asked a servant to call him over, claiming she had something urgent to talk to him about over dinner.

“What the fuck…” he jumped back, his voice going up a notch.

Noelle dug her heels into the floor as she moved the chair around so she could face him.

“I couldn’t let you dine alone tonight, husband,” she smiled sweetly. “You don’t usually cut your banquets short, so I wanted to make sure everything was all right with you.”

“What the fuck did you do…” he muttered as he took a step. Then another. He walked carefully around the carnage, his eyes wide as he saw the walls splayed with blood, the floor wholly stained red.

“You don’t like it? I thought it would be right up your alley.” Noelle batted her lashes at him.

“Cristopher,” Sergio muttered in disbelief as he stopped by the dinner table, his hand hovering in the air over the corpse of one of his most trusted men. “Mario…” He blinked as he studied the man in the seat opposite. “What the hell did you do, Noelle?”

Both men were leaning against their chairs, their throats slit as blood still poured from their wounds. Their eyes were still open and vacant with the absence of life.

On the floor, a few more people were lying dead, all in different states of mutilation. Noelle hadn’t held back one whit as she’d cut and sawed at the bodies long before they were dead.

If Sergio thought he was the only savage at the hacienda, then he might have needed a little reminder that Noelle could be worse.

She kept a smile on her face as she grabbed a loaf of bread, breaking a piece and dipping it in her makeshift soup. The red liquid coated the white of the dough and Sergio’s eyes bulged in his sockets as he followed her movements. Carefully, she brought the piece of bread to her mouth, biting into it.

The blood smeared around her lips and as she slowly chewed, she gave him a brilliant smile, her teeth equally stained with red.

“Not hungry?”

He looked about to be sick. Without betraying one single emotion, Noelle extended her hand towards the corpse of Mario, who had been seated right next to her. She placed the piece of bread right under his cut throat, waiting until the drops of blood accumulated before bringing it to her mouth anew.

Sergio gagged once. Twice. On the third, he bent low and emptied the contents of his stomach, heaving as he struggled to get a grip over himself.

“I’m disappointed, Sergio. Aren’t you into fucking corpses? I thought this would be child’s play compared to that.”

“You’re fucking sick,” he groaned.

“Tsk, tsk. Isn’t the kettle calling the pot black? Or.” She rose, slowly coming around to his side. She tilted her head as she studied him with all the hate bubbling inside of her. “You’re only man enough to do something like this in one of your little rituals?”

He raised his head, his eyes flashing at her.

“I wonder, what do your friends say when you never participate in that debauched orgy? Do they not think there might be something wrong with you?”

He tensed all over, as he usually did when she reminded him of what she’d done to him—how she’d emasculated him, despite the fact that he’d tried to keep it all under wraps.

“Let me guess. They think your harem tires you out too much, isn’t that right? Poor girls.” She shook her head. “I hear them in the hallway sometimes. What do you make them do? Fuck each other so it sounds you’re fucking them?” She chuckled. “So pathetic, Sergio. And you call yourself a god, never mind a man,” she sneered.

“Bitch,” he spat at her, that one word full of vitriol.

“I feel like I need to remind you that I’m not someone you can control or think to manipulate. We agreed on something, did we not? You would go about your business and I would go about mine. So what is this little test you tried on me this morning?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes at him.

“So you admit there was something with that slave.”

“What is it any of your business who I fuck, Sergio? Just because I’ve been discreet until now doesn’t mean he’s the first or the last,” she lied, studying his features. His mouth was set in a grim line as he stared at her, almost as if he didn’t dare look anywhere else but at her.

Noelle knew she’d done quite the number in the dining room, making it so disgusting that anyone would balk at the sight. She, herself, felt quite ill as she still tasted the blood on her tongue, but she would never admit that. To his eyes, she must seem unyielding.

She must seem… indomitable.

“Maybe today it’s him, maybe tomorrow it’s another. But I won’t have you question me in front of everyone as you did today. I won’t have you sniff into what I do, or who I fuck, just as I won’t yell as loud as I can that I fucking castrated you,” she added, knowing that little tidbit always worked on him.

With Sergio, everything came down to his vanity. He didn’t want anyone to know what Noelle had done to him. First, because she was a woman, and it would be mortifying to admit that a lowly creature like that had managed to hurt him.

And secondly… Well, if his manhood was put into question, then he’d lose everyone’s respect. She knew it. He knew it. And he damned well didn’t want that to happen.

Before she could blink, though, Sergio moved, grabbing a fork off of the table and stabbing her in the thigh with it.

Noelle gave a low cry of pain as she jumped back. Pulling the fork out of her flesh, she clutched it in her hand, ready for attack. Yet that small delay allowed Sergio to grab onto a knife, brandishing it in front of her before jumping forward and slashing her across her stomach in one smooth line.

She barely had time to gasp as she realized she must have pushed him to his limits.

“So this is how you’re playing, huh?” she asked, her lip quivering with a mix of pain and anger.

She brought her hand to her stomach. The wound seemed superficial enough, but it was still bleeding. That didn’t mean she would allow him to get another blow on her though, or that she would forgive him the slight.

“You know you can’t kill me,” she challenged, her eyes on him as they slowly circled each other.

He was well aware that her death would be questioned and investigated by her brother, and considering the issues Sergio had had in the last couple of months with his businesses, the last thing he wanted was to get on Cisco’s bad side.

“Maybe no. But I can definitely maim you.” He smirked, the implication clear.

He could maim her just as she’d maimed him—or, rather, as he’d maimed Lucero in the past.

Noelle gripped the fork tightly, her eyes narrowed on Sergio. Her wounds pained her, but she’d suffered worse in the past. Considering how many times he’d taken her to the brink of death—to where no part of her body was left untouched by pain—this was child’s play.

What was a little blood when she would have the equivalent from him?

Gritting her teeth, she nodded to herself in self-assurance. He might have caught her unawares those two times, but she wouldn’t give him another opening to hurt her.

There would not be a third time.

Just as he jumped on her, his knife positioned to stab her, Noelle remembered the lessons she’d learned from Yuyu and stepped to the side, fitting her arm against his and bringing her knee to his midriff with as much force as she could.

Sergio gave a yelp of pain as he doubled over, and it was enough for Noelle to take advantage and bring her fist right under his jaw. The effect was immediate as the blow nearly knocked Sergio off of his feet.

“How does it feel to be on the receiving end, husband?” she asked with a smug smile.

In the past, she’d been too shocked to act, and when the shock had worn off, she’d been too hurt to move. Now, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. She already knew what to expect from him, and she was well aware that deep down he was nothing but a coward—one that hid in front of his riches and his people’s worship.

Sergio fell back, slipping on the bloody floor as he whizzed out loud in an attempt to regain his breath.

Before he could recover, Noelle was on him. She raised the fork up high, gaining momentum before bringing it down on him with all the strength she could muster, stabbing him in the chest.

“Pera,” he yelled. “Maldita pera.”

Though he must have felt the pain deeply, he still had fight in him as he punched her in the stomach where he’d previously cut her. The blow surprised her just as a wave of pain assailed her.

She let out a harsh breath as she wrestled the knife from his hand, and despite the fire burning at her flesh, she pushed on, knowing she couldn’t give up now.

Placing the blade to his throat, she looked him in the eyes, erasing all previous acts from her features, so that he could see her true feelings.

“I despise you, Sergio. And one day… One day I will kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first,” he replied, his nostrils flaring.

“We’ll see which one succeeds first.”

And with one last look, she rose, wincing as more blood poured from her wound.

“You can’t kill me just as I can’t kill you, Noelle,” Sergio called out. “You already know I’ve put in place enough contingency plans that if anything happens to me, you and that light-haired witch you’ve adopted will both pay.”

Noelle stopped right at the entrance, half-turning.

“It seems we’re at a standstill, then. Hold your end of the bargain and don’t fucking interfere in my business and I will do the same,” Noelle stated in no uncertain terms. She gave him one last look before she left, satisfied she’d had the last word despite the crippling pain in her middle.

She wondered how badly she’d been hit. She was already limping from the stab in her thigh, but it was her abdomen that was paining her the worst. Still, it had been worth it.

Every little disgusting and atrocious thing, had been worth it, to make Sergio see she would not be bullied, just as she would not stand for any disrespect. Since they couldn’t kill each other—yet—he needed to realize that an open war with her would degenerate so badly, the entire hacienda would become one big casualty. And despite Sergio’s belligerent self, she knew he wouldn’t want that.

Not when his popularity depended on him upholding the peace and prosperity in the region.

A war… A war could both discredit and disgrace him. And Noelle couldn’t wait for that to happen.

She might not be able to kill him, but she had other ways of keeping him in line.

By now he should have realized that she was far from the innocent eighteen-year-old he’d insisted on marrying.

“Noelle?” Lucero’s eyes widened in horror. “What happened?”

“Nothing much.” Noelle cracked a smile. “Can you help me patch this up? I’d hate to get another scar,” she murmured.

Her body was already riddled with them and the torment she’d endured in those first few months.

“Good Lord,” Lucero muttered as she peeled Noelle’s shirt off to reveal the nasty wound she’d gotten. A straight slice across her abdomen that was still gushing out blood.

“I don’t think anyone could make this not scar,” Lucero added, her features tight with worry.

“At least I tried.” Noelle shrugged, leaning back and letting her friend work her magic.

She’d been right that the cut had been shallow, and the knife had only sliced through skin and fat—nothing life threatening.

Lucero disinfected the area and applied some healing ointment before bandaging Noelle’s torso. She did the same with her leg where Sergio had stabbed her with the fork.

“Did you at least manage to do what you wanted?”

Noelle nodded, her lids already heavy with sleep.

“We’re safe. For now,” she sighed. “But you’re right. I’ll need to take the attention off of Rafaelo. Tomorrow…” she trailed off as she went to sleep.

Lucero carefully tended to her, taking a cloth and washing the blood from her face and body. Despite Noelle’s answer, Lucero couldn’t help but be concerned about the future.

She’d lived at the hacienda long enough to know El Señor wasn’t someone who took well to humiliations, especially from a woman. Somehow, she knew he would retaliate. And she feared he would do it when they least expected it.

“Ay, Noelle. Espero que tengas razon. Si no…” she pursed her lips, her brows knit together in worry.

She trusted Noelle. But at the same time, she was afraid. She’d only begun living for the first time in her life. If El Señor decided to go against them, Lucero was sure neither would escape with their lives intact.

Solo quiero vivir, she thought to herself.

But having been hurt her entire life one way or another, Lucero knew just how hard it was to do such a basic thing.

“Vivir,” she whispered. “Por que tiene que ser tan difícil? Por que, Dios?”

Yet the hardship had just begun.