The Sins of Noelle (War of Sins Book 4)
The Sins of Noelle: Chapter 17

When I step into the salon the following morning, Noelle is up and ready. Looking her over, there are deep dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks sunken in.

‘You didn’t sleep?’ I raise a brow as I hand her a small bag I’d packed for her.

She gives me a tight smile.

‘You wouldn’t sleep either in my position.’

I ignore her words and the echo of pain they cause in my chest.

‘I signed the release forms for you, but you’ll be back in therapy after we return.’

She merely shrugs, her gaze holding mine.

‘You don’t care?’ I ask, surprised.

Cisco had told me how she’d protested the fact that she had to go to therapy, so it’s surprising to see her so willing.

She shrugs again.

‘As long as it’s Gianna. I don’t think anyone else could handle the truth of my past without calling the police on me,’ she gives me a hesitant smile.

‘Do I even want to know how many people you’ve killed?’ I ask, amused, though the topic is anything but amusing.

Just a week ago I would have never thought her capable of holding a gun in her hands, let alone pull the trigger on one.

If anyone had told me we would be in this situation, I would have laughed in their faces. After all, my sweet and innocent Noelle was too sheltered and far too kind hearted to ever consider killing someone.

Yet here we are.

‘I haven’t kept count,’ she replies. ‘If it makes you feel better, I’ve never once killed someone who didn’t deserve it.’

‘Sure. Definitely makes me feel better,’ I add drily. ‘Get your bag and let’s go,’ I say before we go deeper down the rabbit hole.

My God but can she be more fucking obedient? I give her an order, she dutifully obeys, no hint of a protest—not even one of displeasure.

She looks at me with those fucking big puppy eyes of hers and I feel like a bounder for making her sad even for a moment.

Just fucking great.

She’s the guilty one but it’s making me feel guilty.

She follows one step behind me, her hands grabbing the hem of her shirt every now and then, her fingers itching to reach for me.

I know it and I ignore it.

Too bad mine are itching just as much.

Gritting my teeth, I go against myself and I don’t open the door for her to get in the car, simply sliding in the driver’s seat and waiting for her to get in.

She does. Slower than I would have liked, but she does.

Yet now that I’ve seen the lethargy of her movements, I can’t help but be worried, and before I know it, I open my mouth.

‘Does your wrist still pain you?’

She shakes her head.

‘No. They gave me something for the pain. It’s just a little sore.’

‘That’s what you get for slitting your wrist in front of me,’ I mumble under my breath.

‘How else was I to get your attention?’ she asks as she gives me half a glance.

‘Definitely not by dying,’ I grit my teeth, stepping on the gas pedal and deciding to ignore her for the rest of the journey.

Traffic is awful. It takes us almost an hour to get to the airport, and another two hours to check in and get through security.

Once we get to the plane, we’re led to our little suite. Carlos had gone above and beyond to get us a first class suite, knowing we’d like our privacy. How he’d managed on such short notice considering not all airlines even have a suite is beyond me.

Yet here we are.

The space is crammed as I’m forced to stare at Noelle less than a foot away from me.

Five hours.

In about six hours we should be there.

As long as I continue to ignore her, everything should go according to plan.

We make ourselves comfortable and soon the plane is ready for take-off.

I remove a Kindle from my bag, loading my selection of books as I decide what type of genre I’m in the mood for. Certainly, with my biggest distraction in front of me, it has to be something extremely immersive.

I pick a political thriller just as the plane goes into taxi mode, ready to go up in the sky.

I barely get to read one sentence as a low, barely audible sound echoes in my ears.

Looking up over my Kindle, I note the stiffening of her body, the harshness of her breath and the clenching and unclenching of her small hands.

Just as the plane takes off the ground, her eyes squeeze shut as she looks on the verge of fainting.

‘If anyone saw you, they’d think you’ve never been on a plane before.’

She doesn’t answer for a moment.

A slow, torturous breath escapes her lips.

‘I don’t have too many good memories of the last time I was on a plane,’ she murmurs softly, her body still tight with tension.

‘Last time…’ I trail off as my eyes widen in realization. ‘When you were rescued.’

She gives me a brisk nod.

‘I thought you were out of it,’ I mention, a frisson going down my back as I remember how I’d left her back then…

‘I was in and out of it,’ she says, slowly opening her eyes. ‘There were a few brief moments of consciousness and…’ she swallows hard. ‘The pain medication hadn’t kicked in.’

I stare at her as her words slowly sink in.

She’d been dying.

Her last memory on a plane had been when she’d been at death’s door.

‘Every little turbulence reminds me of that pain,’ she continues.

‘Why didn’t you say so? I could have asked the doctor to prescribe you something for it.’

She shrugs.

‘I didn’t want you to think I wanted your pity,’ she admits in a low voice before looking away.

The plane is now well in the air and her breathing seems to be more regulated.

‘Pity is the last thing I feel for you, Noelle. Anger? Disappointment? Yes. But not pity. Never pity.’

She slowly turns to me.

‘Well… That’s even worse,’ she whispers.

‘Tell me about Ann Marie,’ I suddenly say.

I don’t know what prompts me to open the topic—what makes me want to have a conversation with her in the first place. Yet after everything I’d heard from Cisco, I’m left with more questions. I know his version. What about hers?

‘What about Ann Marie?’ she licks her lips, her lashes fluttering as her eyes meet mine.

‘Cisco told me you pulled the trigger.’

‘I did,’ she admits unflinchingly.

‘She was the first person you killed, wasn’t she?’

Noelle nods, a sad smile pulling at her lips.

‘I didn’t kill her, Raf. I saved myself. There’s a difference.’

‘But it affected you, nonetheless, didn’t it?’ I probe.

‘Of course it did,’ she huffs, her body seemingly slowly relaxing. ‘I spent years locked in my house because it wasn’t safe for me to go out without facing the scrutiny of everyone. And trust me, a few years between four walls, alone with your thoughts… It’s worse than a prison.’

‘Did you regret it?’

‘What are you asking, Raf?’ She raises a brow. ‘Do you want to ascertain whether I am capable of regret? Because I am. That doesn’t mean I regret saving myself. Yes, I felt guilty about her death. I had nightmares about it for years. But if I were to go back, knowing what I do now, I would do everything exactly the same,’ she pauses as she leans forward. ‘I will never let anyone make me feel guilty about saving myself. Not even you.’

My eyes widen. I must admit I didn’t expect her words, or the vehemence behind them. Just like I didn’t expect the warmth flooding my chest at her self-assuredness and her unapologetic manner.

‘I would never ask that of you,’ I feel compelled to add.

‘Good,’ she gulps down, a wave of uncertainty hitting her and affecting the confidence previously displayed in her body language. ‘Then you should know that ninety percent of the deaths that occurred by my hand were just that. Self-defense. Survival.’

‘What about the other ten percent?’

‘Your survival.’

And with that, she shuts me up.

She knows it too, as I detect a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

We don’t speak for the rest of the flight.

I try my best to lose myself in my political thriller, while Noelle’s attention is riveted on the on-flight entertainment.

Ironic how I’d been the one to try my damned hardest to ignore her, yet it’s her who successfully does it.

My gaze strays to her every now and then, searching her features in an attempt to decipher her.

What’s going through your mind, Noelle?

She hasn’t once inquired about where we’re going, or why I have business in Ciudad de Mexico. She’s simply going along with everything I say.

And somehow that…pisses me off.

I don’t know if I expected her to fight me—if I wanted her to fight me. But I certainly didn’t want her to be this…complacent.

Any reaction is better than this obsequious bullshit she has going on.

How the fuck can she be so calm when I’m boiling on the inside?

I grit my teeth as I catch myself staring at her at one point, unable to believe I’m so fucking gone that I can only exist if my eyes are on her.

If I hadn’t known better, I would have said she was a witch. A beautiful, seductive, out of this world witch that has had me wrapped around her little finger from the beginning.

Otherwise how can I explain this madness? The fact that I’m still fucking obsessed with her when by all accounts I should abhor the sight of her?

‘Raf? Are you alright?’

Her voice startles me out of my reverie.

I blink, my mind still foggy—still full of her.

Before I can say anything, she gets up from her seat, coming to my side and kneeling before me. Her hands are suddenly on top of mine, her touch instantly waking my body to life.

‘And here I thought I was the only one scared about flying,’ she jokes as she uses her thumbs to massage the inside of my palm.

What…

‘It’s okay, I can be your rock,’ she gives me a tentative smile as she continues to stroke my hand in a comforting gesture.

She…

I freeze.

Goddamn you, Noelle. Why the hell do you have to worm yourself into my mind, into my fucking heart, even at a time like this?

She’s the one who has an issue with flying and now she’s trying to comfort me?

I can’t believe this.

‘Squeeze my hand,’ she continues, wrapping my hand around hers. ‘I replace that if I keep my hands busy somehow I stop paying too much attention to what goes on around me.”

I don’t answer, merely staring at her and the image she strikes like that—on her knees in front of me.

Yet even as the position is entirely too suggestive for my rather undeveloped brain, nothing lewd is on my mind. There’s only a warmth suffusing my chest, spreading through my entire body the more her skin touches mine.

‘You’re getting lost in your head, aren’t you?’ she asks sympathetically. ‘That always happens to me, especially when I know I have no control of a situation.’

‘I think that makes you a control freak,’ I remark wryly.

But I don’t want to remove her touch. Not when my skin is awfully starved for it.

Nor do I contradict her that I am not having anxiety over our flight and that in fact, I am merely too captivated by her. She doesn’t need to know that—not now, when things are so damn precarious between us.

‘I suppose it does,’ she chuckles. ‘When you’ve felt powerless your entire life, you learn to prize it above all else.’

‘Was that what happened with us?’ I ask before I can help myself. ‘Was I an exercise in your control because I was powerless to do anything?’

A dry smile pulls at her lips.

‘You were never powerless, Raf. In fact…’ she licks her lips, looking at me from beneath her lashes. ‘You’ve always had control when it comes to me.’

I raise a brow for her to elaborate.

‘Because I’ve been powerless my entire life, it’s my most prized possession. And it’s yours. It’s been yours from the beginning, Raf,’ she says as she absentmindedly squeezes my hand. ‘The control is in your hands. I just ask that you don’t throw me away. Just… Let me be by your side. In any capacity…’

‘In any capacity?’ I repeat, frowning. ‘What the hell are you on about, Noelle?’

‘Just…’ she drags herself closer, fitting her body to my legs and placing her head on my lap.

God, her audacity is astounding. Yet it’s nowhere near my stupidity for allowing it, for not moving—for not being able to move.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

‘What capacity is that, Noelle?’ I repeat the question, curious what she has in mind.

After all, no moment goes by in which I am not surprised by her, or her words. She’s speaking freely for the first time—showing herself to me for the first time.

And I replace myself…captivated.

I’m utterly fascinated by every little thing that comes out of her mouth.

‘I don’t know,’ she whispers hesitantly. ‘I could be…your servant. I’ll take care of all your needs. You don’t even need to talk with me as long as you let me be near you.’

‘You’re telling me you’re fine with living the rest of your life in silence?’

She mulls the question over for a moment.

‘Words are only for surface,’ she murmurs. ‘I don’t need language to know you, Raf. I don’t need speech, nor hearing.’

‘Noelle…’ I start, ironically at a loss of words.

‘This is the captain speaking…’ the speakers suddenly echo with the announcement that we are about to land.

Noelle swallows hard, leaning back and taking one good look at me before returning to her seat.

She puts her seat belt on and doesn’t speak one more word as we start our descent towards Mexico, proving to me that she can, in fact, live without words.

It’s her eyes that do all the talking.

And in them I see infernal anguish, with almost no trace of hope.

In no time, we touch down in Mexico.

Carlos had arranged for transportation to our hotel, and as we pass through customs, I’m surprised to see Noelle’s flawless Spanish. Yet another thing that never made sense before, when she’d professed to not know the language. But as I remember our interactions online, and later at the hacienda, I realize how well she’d played me.

When she’d introduced herself as Lucero to me, she’d done so in Spanish, and I’d never once questioned that it might not be her native tongue. So well she spoke it, she completely fooled me—then, and now.

‘You’re quite the proficient Spanish speaker,’ I mention as we get into the car, unable to help myself.

She’s sitting daintily at the far end of the seat, her hands on her thighs as she looks ahead. Slowly, she turns towards me, her face expressionless.

‘Control.’

One word, yet it explains everything.

Noelle is all about control, and someone like that would have never gone to a foreign country if she didn’t master the language first. In fact, I can bet she started learning it the moment she found out where her future husband would be from.

This should be just one more piece of information to show me how scheming and manipulative she is. But it does the reverse.

Instead of becoming more disgusted with her, I…admire her.

Her choices had been taken away from her all her life, yet in spite of that. she’d still prevailed in regaining that control, even if that meant violently snatching it away from her oppressors.

What’s not to admire about that?

And that is why I feel like such a goddamn hypocrite. If I’d been only an outsider, I would have praised her for her actions. But I am not. I am right in the middle of this goddamn disaster, and her actions have affected me as well.

Because of that, I replace myself at a crossroads. And I know the only way to choose the right path is by having all the facts and knowing everything that occurred in the past.

We arrive at the hotel and we check in.

The suite Carlos had gotten for us has two bedrooms, and Noelle gets the hint that it was on purpose. She puts her stuff in the spare bedroom, after which she continues to hover silently around me.

It’s odd how she thought to respect my decision to sleep separately, but she doesn’t think that her presence in itself is not welcome.

Once more, I replace myself conflicted.

She’s an enigma I can’t explain.

But do you want to?

The answer is a resounding yes…

I spend the rest of the day on phone conferences, handling the pending business back home and getting updates from Carlos on our mysterious seller.

Noelle is maybe two steps away from me at all times, doing exactly what she suggested on the plane.

If I look a little thirsty, she’s there with a glass of water. If I’m tugging at my shirt, she takes it as a sign that I’m too hot and brings a fan to cool me. If she notices I’ve gone too much time without eating, she brings a little snack, leaving it in front of me.

All throughout, she doesn’t speak.

Not. One. Word.

‘He’s meeting you tomorrow. He is a little scared. I’m not entirely sure why, but he said he will only sell if you’re alone. If you bring anyone with you, the deal is off and you won’t replace him again.’

‘It will be just me and Noelle,’ I add. ‘I’m not letting her out of my sight,’ I say as I turn and almost bump into her.

She’s looking up at me, a shy smile on her face as she holds up a plate with brownies.

‘Text me the details. I have something to take care of,’ I tell Carlos before I hang up.

I fling my phone on the couch before I give Noelle my entire attention. After all, she’s been wanting it from the beginning, hasn’t she.

‘What do you think you’re doing, Noelle?’ I raise a brow at her.

She doesn’t speak, merely lifting the plate and pushing it towards me.

‘Talk,’ I continue, impatiently.

She still doesn’t say anything, just watching me, her smile becoming increasingly more strained. Once more, she pushes the plate towards me.

‘For fuck’s sake, stop this goddamn silly act,’ I sneer.

Exasperated, I don’t even think as I swipe my hand, knocking the plate out of her hands.

It falls to the ground with a thud, the porcelain breaking just as the brownies crumble into small pieces.

I blink, surprised at my own outburst.

Noelle barely reacts, still watching me. Her smile falls, her lashes coated by unshed tears.

‘Noelle…’

Getting to her knees, she slowly starts picking the pieces of porcelain off the floor.

It takes me a moment to realize what she’s doing, or the fact that the sharp shards are perfect for…

Instinct takes over as I swoop her up in my arms, wrenching the shards out of her hands and dumping them to the ground.

Kicking open the door to her bedroom, I place her on the bed, kneeling in front of her and turning her hands palms up to check for any injuries.

Only when I spot not one drop of blood or even a scrape do I breathe in relief.

‘You don’t want to see me hurt,’ she says in a small voice.

Slowly, I raise my eyes to meet hers.

‘Really? Was that some kind of test?’

She quickly shakes her head.

‘Of course I don’t want to see you hurt, Noelle. And you know it.’

‘Then why…’ she asks the question in a whisper.

My ears perk up as I wait for her to continue.

‘Why won’t you accept my apology? Why… Why won’t you forgive me?’

I squeeze my eyes shut as a wave of discomfort assails me.

‘Noelle,’ I start, but I stop myself as I realize my anger from earlier is resurfacing. Taking a deep, steadying breath, I open my eyes as I give her a direct look. ‘You don’t understand, do you?’

She gives a tentative shake of her head.

‘How can I forgive anything when I don’t know what happened? How can I accept your apology when I don’t know the truth? When I don’t trust you to tell me the truth?’

‘But… You hate to see me hurt,’ she says hurriedly, reaching out and grabbing my shirt. ‘This hurts me more than anything, Raf. I can’t bear it,’ she breaks off on a sob. ‘I can’t bear it…’

‘How do you think I feel, Noelle?’ I ask her in a serious voice. ‘Can you honestly not understand how I might feel? What if the roles were reversed? What if I raped you while you were on drugs? What if you had no recollection of it but suddenly you found out you’d had a child? That I took your child away and he’s now dead?’

She swallows hard as she breathes harshly, her chest rising up and down as her sobs quiet down.

‘I…’

‘You wouldn’t be able to forgive me either, could you?’

When she doesn’t answer me, I rise up, pursing my lips as I head to my own room. Remaining here would only be more torturous.

Yet as I’m about to go out the door, she finally speaks, truly surprising me for the first time.

‘If you raped me, I could forgive you. If you abused me, I could forgive you. But I wouldn’t be able to forgive you for taking my child away from me.’

The last bit is barely audible, yet it’s there.

‘I would forgive you anything but our child…’

The woman who confessed to killing her own child is telling me she’d never forgive me for the same thing.

‘Then you know how I feel,’ I tell her before I’m out of the room.

If that’s the only thing she would never forgive, how the hell did she do it.

Unless… There is more to the story. There must be more to the story.

Vlad was right. Noelle isn’t like Bianca. She feels empathy, just as she feels guilt. And despite all evidence, I highly doubt she would ever be able to do anything to her baby.

Maybe soon I’ll have more pieces of the puzzle to make sense of this whole mess.

I fall asleep still thinking about her words, and my dreams are anything but calm.

The following morning after we take our breakfast, I finally tell her why we’re in Mexico.

‘We’re meeting someone in an hour. Be ready,’ I tell her as I fix my own clothing.

She dutifully prepares herself, and I’d be lying if I said I’m not following her every move. I can’t wait to see how she will react when she sees the man we’re meeting.

By all accounts, he would have been her person of contact at the drug facility, so I have no doubt she knows him.

Yet more than anything, I need to get my hands on the footage he has.

I’m willing to pay anything for it, too.

That, what is on that video is the only truth I’ll trust. It will tell me exactly what happened between us at the hacienda and it should prove whether my shaky memories are real—that she’d taken advantage of me when I could barely move or fight back. Or…it might show me a different picture…

I’m both scared and excited at the prospect of watching those videos, but living with this uncertainty is slowly killing me. No matter how fearful I am of what I’m going to replace out, I need to push forward.

‘I’m ready,’ Noelle announces quietly as she comes to my side.

She’s dressed in a pair of black high waisted loose pants and black a silky shirt tied at the neck with a purple ribbon.

The spot of color makes me raise my eyes, especially as I know the hidden meaning behind it.

When she sees my scrutinizing gaze, she gives me a tentative smile as she brings her hands to her front, fidgeting with her fingers.

‘Do I pass muster?’ she inquires softly.

‘You do,’ I grunt, turning my back to her so she doesn’t see my wandering eyes, and the fact that she more than passes muster.

Opening the suitcase Carlos had sent to our hotel, I take note of the array of guns he’d packed for me.

Damn, but the man sure values being extra prepared.

I choose two Glocks and holster them behind my back.

‘Can I have one?’ Noelle suddenly appears before me, peering inside.

‘No.’

‘But isn’t it dangerous if you’re arming yourself? I can help….’

‘No, Noelle. You’re not carrying a gun. You’re not to do anything except quietly stay by my side,’ I tell her, harsher than intended.

‘Alright,’ she sighs, stepping away from the weapon suitcase.

A car comes to pick us up, and soon we’re exiting the city to an abandoned warehouse somewhere on the outskirts.

Apparently, the man is more terrified of anything happening to him than I’d given him credit for. Yet I can’t understand why.

Sergio is dead, as are most of the men who’d been involved at the hacienda. If anyone was left alive, I would have no doubt heard about it.

But he hadn’t wanted to hear reason, maintaining that there are people out to hurt him.

‘You still haven’t told me where we’re going,’ Noelle suddenly speaks as she sees us leaving the city, her eyes shrewdly assessing her surroundings.

“We’re meeting someone,” I say ambiguously.

“Who?” She frowns, and I can tell she’s growing suspicious.

“You’ll see shortly,” I add curtly, ending the conversation.

She purses her lips, clearly displeased about the fact despite promising me she’d follow me blindly. She might be able to relinquish her control in some instances—particularly in the bedroom—but in others, it doesn’t come easy to her.

Ten more minutes and we arrive at our location.

The driver parks a distance away from the warehouse, and I instruct him to wait for us there.

“Come,” I motion to Noelle to follow me.

We’re traveling light, and though I’m willing to pay any amount, the transaction will not be in cash. The man had been too scared to carry it with him, so we’d already discussed doing the exchange via crypto currency—the perfect way for him to stay under the radar.

Pushing the door to the warehouse open, I hold my arm out to block Noelle in case it’s not safe. We slowly move inside, and I look for any hint of movement.

“Santiago?” I call out, my voice echoing in the empty building.

“Are you alone?” Another voice answers.

“It’s just me and my wife. You’re safe. You can come out.”

There’s a brief pause before I hear shuffling.

“Come to the center of the room,” he instructs.

“We’re here,” I say as we stop right in the middle of the room.

A moment later, a scrawny man comes out from his hiding place, slowly coming towards us.

He’s wearing a cap that he tips lower on his face. He still hasn’t looked at us, his eyes skittering all around the warehouse, his body tensing at every little noise. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for an execution squad to jump out from the shadows and take a hit at him.

“Are you sure you’re alone?” He asks again.

“Yes. I promised you and I won’t break my word,” I add, a little annoyed at his paranoia.

He’s maybe ten feet away from us when he suddenly stops. His gaze is still on the ground, his hands fidgeting in front of him.

He’s jittery. Maybe this is more than simple paranoia…

“The money. I want one million dollars.”

I grimace at the amount, but I expected him to ask for an exorbitant sum.

“The footage?”

“I’ll give it to you after you transfer the money.”

“Of course,” I nod. “I just need to ascertain if the files do exist first. You have your own trust issues, I have mine.”

He mulls my words for a second before he gives a brisk nod.

“I’ll send a snippet to your phone.”

He takes out his phone from his pants, and with a few finger movements, he successfully sends me a clip.

A beep alerts me that I’ve received it.

I open it, seeing the familiar corridor at the facility and some known figures as they come and go.

Pursing my lips, I have to agree that it is the drug facility at the hacienda. Another beep and I see a screenshot of the list of files. There are hundreds if not more of videos, and the dates all fit with the time I’d been there.

“There are a thousand five hundred eighty videos,” Santiago mentions. “Well worth the one million.”

I nod, satisfied that Santiago is telling the truth.

“We can proceed with the deal,” I mention as I dial Carlos.

“Yes?” He answers promptly.

“Set up the transfer.”

“On it,” he replies.

Not one second passes before I feel Noelle bump into me. Half-turning to ask her what’s wrong, I watch with wide eyes as everything happens in slow motion.

One of my Glocks is in her hands as she aims at Santiago, her aim flawless as she hits him to the heart.

He falls to the ground, blood pooling all around him, and somehow, I know that he doesn’t stand a chance.

Even as I rush to his side and I try to put pressure on the wound, I know it’s in vain.

“P-pocket,” he whispers, the word barely audible before he gives his last breath.

My hands are stained with blood, but even in the madness of the moment, I try to keep my wits about me as I pat him down, replaceing his pocket and what he’d hidden inside—a USB.

I grind my teeth as I quietly slip it inside my own pocket before I turn to deal with Noelle.

Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, looking me straight in the eye. She pushes her chin up, determination shining in her features.

“What the fuck, Noelle?”

She gives me a sweet smile and shrugs.

I stride to her side, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

She blinks, before she shrugs again.

My cheek twitches with realization. She must have recognized him from the hacienda, and she must have intuited what our transaction was about.

“How do you want me to trust you when you do shit like this?” I spit out, flinging her from me.

“I can tell you everything about what happened, Raf,” she finally speaks. “But I never want you to see that me.”

“God, you’re delusional if you think I’m ever going to trust you after this,” I shake my head at her, though the SD card in my pocket should provide plenty of answers—it should show me everything she doesn’t want me to replace out.

“Raf…”

“Let’s go. The plane should be waiting for us,” I tell her in a clipped tone as I head to the car.

She follows closely behind as she continues to try to engage me in conversation and explain herself, but I don’t pay her any mind. The more she tries to speak, the more I tune her out.

We make a short stop at our hotel so I can clean the blood off me and pack our stuff. Not long after, we’re back on the road as we go towards a private airstrip where Carlos had arranged for a small plane to take us to the hacienda.

I continue to ignore Noelle, knowing that soon I’ll have all of the answers I seek.

We get inside the small plane—the only two people aside from the pilot—and I place myself as far away from her as possible.

Fuck, I’m still seething after the shit she pulled. Not only did she take me completely by surprise, but she has the gall to act all prim and proper as if she were the epitome of innocence when she fucking murdered a man in cold blood. And for what? Because his videos would reveal her wicked face—her real face.

The plane takes off, and as soon as it’s safe to, she unbuckles her seat belt and comes to my side.\

Of course, she would.

She’s like a damn puppy waiting for her bone. It doesn’t help that she’s looking at me like a fucking wounded puppy when she’s the one who pulled the trigger on that gun.

“Can we talk?” She asks as she comes to my side, dropping to her knees and fitting her body to my legs like before.

She’s looking at me from beneath her lashes, her expression reeking of false innocence.

“Save all you want to say for when we reach the hacienda. There’s about an hour left until then and I’d like to have some peace first.”

“I don’t want you to be even more mad at me,” she whispers. “Let me tell you why I did it.”

“Why?” I ask point blankly.

She wets her lips, contemplating her words for a moment.

“I swear to you I will be truthful. I just… The person I was at the hacienda… It wasn’t nice, Raf. And I’d never want you to see that side of me. I can tell you everything, but hearing about it and seeing it are two different things. If you saw me…” she swallows hard. “It would mar your perception of me forever.”

“And you don’t think it’s already marred?” I raise a brow at her.

She shakes her head.

“You don’t understand. The me back then…there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to survive. Nothing I wouldn’t have done…for you,” she gives me a sad smile. “Before you, I had nothing to lose. But after you… I did horrible, horrible things, Raf. I don’t regret them, because they allowed me to be here now, with you. But that doesn’t mean I want you to see me—to see who they called la diabla.”

“Go back to your seat, Noelle,” I add on a weary voice. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“But Raf…” she protests.

When I see she’s not budging, I unbuckle my own seatbelt and stand up, swooping her in my arms and taking her back to her own seat.

“One hour, Noelle. Let me have a goddamn hour of peace, ok?”

Just as I place her on her seat, she grasps onto the material of my shirt, pulling me closer to her.

“You still love me. I know you do. You can’t just turn off your feelings and I trust your love,” she says in a panicked voice.

“So?” I inquired in a bored tone.

“If you love me…please give me the chance to prove myself to you,” she pleads, her eyes glossy.

“We’ll see.”

“Please, Raf,” she repeats, leaning into me until her breath is on my lips. She closes her eyes, her hands tightening in the material of my shirt as she stops short of kissing me. She merely stays like that, close but not too close.

Slowly, her eyes open, and the sight of those beautiful irises cuts me to the core.

I open my mouth to say something, yet I don’t get to utter one word as a loud noise permeates the air before the plane suddenly dips.

For one moment suspended in time, we stare at each other, both wide-eyed, both knowing what’s coming. And in that moment, there’s no more animosity, or anger. There’s only a sense of belonging—of being with the right person even if it’s at the wrong time.

I reach for her, tugging her to me as I hold on to the only thing I’ve loved more than my own life.

The sudden loss in altitude makes us lose our equilibrium, our bodies colliding with each other and the blunt furniture.

There’s only pain and a marked feeling of loss.

The next moment, we’re falling.