The Sins of Noelle (War of Sins Book 4)
The Sins of Noelle: Chapter 20

Noelle groaned in pain as she struggled to open her eyes.

Everything hurt.

She could barely move, but as awareness slowly trickled in, she realized she was lying on her belly. At the same time, the events from her wedding night flooded her mind as she remembered the savage beating she’d endured at the hands of her new…husband.

And then…

She frowned.

She couldn’t remember what happened after.

Noelle had struck with her knife after which….she’d been hit again, hadn’t she?

The more she thought about it, the more she seemed to remember Sergio striking out, his features draped with terror despite his best efforts to hide it.

She’d fallen to the ground and then… She’d simply lost consciousness.

As soon as she realized that, panic flared inside her chest.

How long was I out?

If she’d been unconscious, anything could have happened to her and she’d be none the wiser. She certainly couldn’t have fought back.

Her heart started beating loudly in her chest as she thought how defenseless she must have been. Enough for someone…

Noelle squeezed her eyes shut.

She didn’t dare think of that. Not after she’d done everything in her power to protect herself—to keep ownership of her body and of her own person.

Yet no matter how much she tried to ignore it, the possibility was there.

As was the fact that she’d rather die than know that someone… That someone…

A sob caught in her throat at the thought.

She shuffled on the bed she’d been placed on, grinding her teeth as bursts of pain exploded simultaneously in different parts of her body. But Noelle wasn’t deterred.

Despite the agonizing pain she was in, she forced herself to move her arm, sliding it half an inch at a time towards her until she managed to place it under her body.

She was wearing different clothes than the ones she’d worn that night. That alone made her fear the worst, especially as she noticed she was dressed in a thin cotton dress—likely a nightgown. Yet it was not one she owned.

When her arm was fully under her, she reached down, sliding the dress up her leg.

She breathed out in relief when she realized she still had her underwear on. Yet next came the confirmation.

Noelle swallowed against the sudden wave of bile that traveled up her throat as she slid her hand into the band of her underwear, dipping her fingers between her legs and lightly touching the entire area of her sex.

If something had happened to her… She would feel it, wouldn’t she? Just like she was hurting all over, she was bound to hurt between her legs too.

She probed at her entrance, noting there wasn’t any pain there. Pushing one finger inside, she could finally breathe out in relief when she found her hymen intact.

No one had raped her.

She wanted to cry of joy, yet the mere attempt to move her facial muscles made her howl in pain.

‘I’m ok,’ she whispered to herself. ‘I’m still ok.’

She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t been raped. She was…ok.

More than anything, she was even more determined that she would survive.

With great difficulty, she managed to haul herself off the bed, nearly falling to her knees. Her hand caught on the bed railing as she held herself immobile for a few seconds.

She took a deep breath, yet even that was too painful as her entire chest cavity hurt. She’d tried so hard to avoid getting hit in her stomach but Sergio had still landed enough blows to make it hard to even exist.

Looking around the room, she noted she was in her own suite. The first thing she could think of was to force herself to cross the apartment and lock the door so that no one could come in. Only then did she allow herself to go to the bathroom and slowly shed the gown off her body, wincing at every little movement.

A wall-sized mirror reflected back all the marks on her body.

She was purple from head to toe. Her lip was split, crusted blood all around her chin. Her eyes were so swollen she could barely keep them open.

Slowly, she reached to her forehead where a big gash extended into her hairline.

Noelle felt like crying, but at that point, crying would only make her hurt more.

A low, howl-like sound escaped her lips as she held onto the sink so she wouldn’t crumble to the floor.

Is this why her family had sold her? To be beaten and abused like this? To be treated less than human?

She tried to climb into the bathtub and clean some of the dried blood on her body, but she could barely bring herself to touch the tender areas.

It took her a long time to clean herself. Between the cries of pain and the agony at having some wounds open anew, she knew she was close to her limit.

By some miracle, she managed to dry herself and change into dry clothes.

It was then that someone knocked on her door.

Dread accumulated in the pit of her stomach as she held herself still. She simply listened, afraid it would be Sergio—that he would come to punish her more.

“It’s me, Lucero. Can you please open the door?”

Noelle released a relieved breath. Still, she didn’t know whether she could trust the girl. She was a worker in Sergio’s house, so naturally she would be loyal to him.

Yet despite that knowledge, Noelle found herself limping to the door and opening it for Lucero.

She was carrying an armful of supplies, and as she entered the room, she headed straight for Noelle’s bedroom.

“I brought you something for the pain, and if you’ll allow me to clean your wounds, I have some salve and…”

Noelle stood still as she stared at the young woman before her.

“You don’t seem surprised to see me in this state,” she whispered as she took a tentative step towards her.

Lucero gave her a sad smile.

“I was the one who helped you to your bed and changed your clothes while you were out of it.”

Noelle blinked.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Don’t mention it.”

She went back to arranging her supplies, inviting Noelle to sit on the bed for her to assess her injuries.

“You’re knowledgeable about medicine?” Noelle asked.

Lucero nodded.

“From experience.”

Noelle frowned. Did Lucero mean what she thought she did? Was she talking about having experience with medicine, or was she saying that she’d experienced Sergio’s wrath too?

She decided to ask the question openly.

“Is he so violent with everyone?”

Lucero pursed her lips.

“Only those that defy him.”

“Have you…defied him?”

Lucero looked down in embarrassment.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. I gather you’ve been in my position before?” Noelle inquired softly.

“I was given to him five years ago.”

“Given to him?”

“To be his mistress,” Lucero nodded, carefully helping Noelle out of her gown before tending to her injuries.

“But five years ago… You couldn’t have been more than a child.”

“Thirteen,” Lucero nodded, and seeing Noelle’s bewildered expression, she went on to explain, “It’s customary in this area, and Señor Villanueva is the ultimate authority. It’s expected for him to receive tribute from his people.”

“Tribute?” Noelle blinked. “We’re not in the Middle Ages, and he’s not some feudal lord.”

“Maybe. Yet here I am. And here you are, too, a bartered wife. We might not be in the Middle Ages, but the Middle Ages are still with us.”

“Good Lord. You’re telling me you had to…sleep with him at that age?”

Lucero nodded, her expression shrouded in sadness.

“I refused, of course. I fought him at every turn, as you did.”

“And you escaped that fate?” Noelle’s voice turned hopeful.

“Maybe I received a worse fate,” Lucero added quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“He didn’t rape me, but he made sure I could never be with anyone else either.”

“I don’t understand,” Noelle frowned.

Lucero stopped her ministrations for a moment, taking a step back and unbuttoning her tunic.

Noelle watched intently, her pain momentarily forgotten as she saw the marks seared on Lucero’s torso. A series of rune-like symbols ran all over her torso, starting from her collarbone, circling her breasts and going all the way down to her stomach. They looked like they had been tattooed into her skin, but Noelle couldn’t be sure.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I’ve been cursed by the gods—an outcast. But that is not all,” Lucero trailed off, her cheeks heating up as she buttoned up her tunic.

Noelle tipped her head, a worried expression on her face.

“He wanted to make sure no one would ever touch me,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“My entire body. He made sure I was disfigured so no other would want me. If he could not have me, then no other man ever could.”

With trembling hands, Lucero lifted her dress, showing her that the same symbols ran all the way down her thighs, but the more pronounced ones were on her lower abdomen. Lines and circles went all the way down to her pubic area. There was not one inch of her flesh that had been left untouched.

Noelle went utterly still, her eyes roving over the young girl’s face. Lucero was around her age, so young and with her whole life ahead of her. And that goddamn man had dared do something so heinous to her just because his male pride had been injured. God… Noelle couldn’t believe that someone could be capable of such evil. To a child no less, because back then Lucero had been a child.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her voice full of sincerity laced with anger on Lucero’s behalf. “I’m so so sorry that happened to you.”

Lucero swallowed hard, giving Noelle a slight nod.

“It’s in the past…”

“How can you say so when he hurt you so badly? My God, he deserves to burn for even contemplating such a thing.”

“One day… One day he will pay for all he’s done—to me, and to others. I have to trust that he will pay.”

“How many others?” Noelle was afraid to ask the question, yet it was clear Lucero wasn’t the first, nor the last. For all she knew, she’d be next to be mutilated as such because she’d dared to refuse him. God, but he really believed himself a feudal lord, entitled to everyone’s lives, didn’t he?

“All the serving girls at the hacienda have at one time, or another, been his mistresses. Those who agreed, were used and then given a good position. The few who refused shared my fate.”

Noelle was horrified.

“You’re telling me that all those young girls I saw at the wedding…everyone?” Noelle croaked.

“They are gifts for El Señor for keeping our area safe and prosperous,” Lucero sighed.

“I’m shocked he allowed you to tend to me if you’re considered an outsider,” Noelle added pensively.

“I was sent to work at the temples. The big pyramids around the hacienda” Lucero explained. That’s when Noelle noticed the callouses on her hands and the many marks of labor. “It’s where I was working before I was assigned to you, and that was only because I’m the only one who can speak some English around here.”

Noelle digested the information, suddenly seeing the girl with other eyes. Still, she was afraid to blindly put her faith in someone when this could very well be just a ploy to gain her confidence before betraying her. While it was clear Lucero was afraid of Sergio and she hated him with her entire heart, fear was a strong motivator to make someone comply with orders.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Noelle asked, suspicion nagging at her.

She was alone in a foreign land, of course she would be easy prey for someone who seemingly shared a common enemy. It was a known tactic and one that Noelle was extremely wary of.

Without warning, Lucero dropped to her knees in front of her.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she murmured, her voice clogged with emotion just as tears streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you for what you did. No one’s ever dared… No one…”

“What… What did I do?” Noelle’s memory of that night was fuzzy. She remembered injuring Sergio, but nothing more than that.

“You…don’t remember?”

“My memory is a little choppy. Must be all the blows,” Noelle lifted her hand to her temple as she tried to make light of the situation.

Lucero dragged on her knees towards her, and in a hushed tone, she related what she’d heard.

“They’re trying to keep it very quiet but I eavesdropped this morning. El Señor… You hurt his member and there is nothing the doctors can do. They said he’s now impotent.”

Slowly, the events flashed in Noelle’s mind.

“I…did that?” She couldn’t believe it, yet a wide smile spread across her lips at the thought. “You mean he’s never going to be able to… you know…”

Lucero nodded.

“He cannot have any more children either.”

“God!” Noelle gasped, realizing the magnitude of it.

“But he’s still alive,” Lucero continued. “And I’m scared for you, señora,” she whispered. “El Señor, he doesn’t like losing face. More than anything, he enjoys inflicting pain on others. He will want revenge. Once he gets better…” she swallowed hard.

“I imagined as much,” Noelle sighed, that one simple action making her wince in pain.

“Let’s get you better for now. I have all the faith that you can stand up to him, señora,” Lucero smiled.

“Call me Noelle, please.”

Lucero was silent for a moment.

“Noelle,” she whispered. “Very well, Noelle.”

Lucero helped her disinfect her wounds and apply some soothing cream to it. Noelle held herself still, her eyes squeezed shut as the initial sting of the cream made her shudder with pain. Slow breath after slow breath, she did her best to withstand the treatment. The worst was on her back where Sergio’s belt had split her skin open, deep lesions forming all along her spine and down to her bottom.

“You’ll need to sleep on your belly for a few days so these don’t get infected,” Lucero advised. “I always say I can’t believe how he could do something so bad to another human, and always, I’m proven that he can do worse,” Lucero sighed. “He is truly a most horrible human being.”

“Tell me more about him,” Noelle said as Lucero started tending to her facial injuries. “Why is everyone so deferent to him?”

“Deferent?” Lucero frowned, the word unfamiliar.

“Fernando said something about worship. Why are people behaving as if he’s larger than life?”

“Because to them he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s difficult to explain to an outsider,” Lucero pursed her lips. “El Señor is the savior of the region. Before him, there was no harvest, no food, nothing. People were starving,” she bit her lip. “My family was in that position, too. We lived an hour south of here where it’s more arid. My father was an American who only stayed here long enough to get my mother pregnant, so it’s always been just the two of us.”

“And she gave you to Sergio. Do you resent her?” Noelle inquired softly.

Lucero shook her head.

“She thought she was doing it for me,” she whispered, her lashes misted with tears. “We were starving. It was either that, or we’d both die together. This way… I survived. She didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” Noelle hurried to say, her heart squeezing in her chest at Lucero’s story.

“Everyone owes their lives to el señor. He gave jobs to people from all over the area. He made sure the families had enough food all year round. For that, everyone would lay their lives for him. He is a god among people here,” Lucero imparted. “Some people even say he is one of the old gods—the incarnation of Tezcatlipoca himself,” she whispered.

“Tezcatlipoca?” Noelle raised a brow. She recognized the name from her many discussions with Blue. He was one of the main Aztec deities and he was associated with obsidian—and sorcery.

Lucero nodded.

“There is a legend that when el señor took power after his old man died, the night sky persisted for days on end. Everything was dark and gloomy. Until he stood in front of his people and promised them that everything would be fine; that as long as they followed him he would grant them everything they wished for. After his proclamation, there was light again, almost as if he had power over night. Since then, the earth has been fertile. People no longer starve to death, nor do they die of disease.”

Noelle frowned. That seemed rather…suspicious. People no longer died of disease?

“What do they die of, then?”

Lucero shrugged.

“Old age. No one has been sick in decades.”

“When you mean sick, you mean…”

“Disease. Plagues. Our lands have been free of disease for as long as I can remember. Or so they say… If there is ever a rumor, it’s destroyed before it can reach people.”

Noelle narrowed her eyes at that sentence. She knew the power of rumors and that they should not be given credence in most cases, but all rumors started from a seed of truth.

She was well-read enough to know there was no such thing as a disease-free community. Even in a fully vaccinated group there was always at least the common cold, and other types of air-borne ailments that anyone could get.

Yet Sergio claimed his land was some type of paradise where nothing could touch its inhabitants as long as they swore allegiance to him. He promised them something no man could achieve—only a god.

A smile tipped at her lips as she started to get a good idea of the politics of the area—why it was so closed off and why people truly believed Sergio to be some sort of old Aztec God who had control over human suffering.

Just like in the Plumed Serpent, Sergio was taking advantage of deeply rooted regional beliefs and using them to his advantage.

He was no god, just as he had no magical powers. Of that, she was certain. After all, she, a mere mortal, had been able to injure him so direly and according to Lucero, so permanently.

No, Sergio was nothing but a charlatan. A power-hungry, delusional charlatan that got off on having thousands of people worship the ground he walked on. In fact, Noelle could hazard a guess why there was no disease in the land—it wasn’t the lack of disease, but of diseased people.

“Do you believe Sergio stopped disease and made the land fertile?”

Lucero stopped what she was doing, leaning back and frowning.

“I do not think so, for he is the most evil of men. But everyone else believes it to be true.”

“How? Why?”

“Things are different here,” Lucero sighed. “People believe in the old gods and the power they have over the living world and the spiritual one.”

“How come you don’t believe it? You grew up here, did you not?”

“I did… In the beginning. Until I realized a mere man cannot be a god. A man who enjoys hurting little girls cannot be the incarnation of a revered deity. Until…” Lucero trailed off, a look of pure desolation descending upon her features. “There was a man—Nicholas. He was a worker, too, but he was an outsider. He taught me English and he told me stories about the other world, of the big cities where people have no gods; a world where women are not required to do a man’s bidding or be a plaything. A world where…” she trailed off, blinking back tears.

“Is he still here?” Noelle asked.

Lucero shook her head.

“I helped him escape two years ago. He’s gone,” she whispered.

“You had feelings for him,” Noelle noted—it was obvious with the way Lucero’s entire face lit up when she talked about this man.

Lucero nodded, a sad smile pulling at her lips.

“He never knew of my feelings. But I’m happy he got away. This place… It has a way of sucking your soul out of your body. Those who don’t worship el señor end up in very bad places.”

Noelle could imagine what type of bad places. She’d only been at the hacienda for a short period of time but it was enough for her to realize that you were either with Sergio, or against him. There was no middle ground. And according to Lucero, the entire area controlled by the hacienda was the same. You either worshiped him as a god, accepting his word of gospel in exchange for his protection and the good fortune he shared with his people, or you were against him, never to be heard from again.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Noelle probed. “He could have taken you away with him.”

“No, no,” Lucero quickly replied. “I was sixteen at the time, a child in his eyes. He was older, more mature. He never saw me as anything other than someone who eased his loneliness.”

“I’m sorry,” Noelle mentioned, seeing Lucero’s stricken expression. “I’m in love with someone, too,” she confessed, melancholy lacing her words. “I don’t know where he is, or how he is. I don’t even know if he is alive…” the last word caught in her throat as she choked on a sob. “He could be very well dead right now and I…”

Her swollen eyes were red and rimmed with tears. The conversation with Lucero had given her a small respite from thinking about her Blue, but that didn’t erase the pain in her heart—much greater than her physical one.

She hadn’t dared think he might be dead until that moment, never mind voicing it out loud.

But he was missing and not even his family knew where he was. If even his family couldn’t replace him…

She couldn’t cope.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, she stifled a wail as she doubled over from the anguish bubbling inside her breast.

She couldn’t live in a world without him—she refused to.

How could she hang onto a better tomorrow if she could not see a tomorrow at all? How could she be strong when she had no one to be strong for?

The realization that she was nothing without him was startling—an echo in the barely alive chamber of her heart.

She’d always known how much he meant to her. But this was the first time it dawned on her that even self-preservation was moot if he wasn’t there—at the end of the tunnel.

All her life, she’d done nothing but fight against fate so she could free herself of the shackles of her own destiny and her wretched last name. All her life, she’d thought that as long as she chose herself, she would be fine—she would live without regrets, in spite of the world that sought to put her down for who she was. Yet now…not even that was enough to give her hope, because there was none.

Blue was her very own haven. She loved him, not only as a man, but as a twin soul—one that mirrored hers exactly; one that sang in tune with hers.

And if he was gone… If he was truly gone… What was she fighting for?

What was happiness, if he was not there to imbue it with meaning?

“Noelle, you need to calm down,” Lucero whispered as she stroked her hair tenderly. “You’re going to open your wounds and bleed again if you keep straining yourself.”

She started hiccuping, her sobs turning into incoherent sounds.

She felt silly.

She felt despair.

She felt…anger.

It was bubbling deep inside her, taking its strength from her pain and the earth-shattering cries of her soul.

“He won’t win,” she said between broken sobs. “I won’t let Sergio win, Lucero. I promise you that.” Turning to the other girl, she gave her an intense look. “I’m going to leave here. And I’m taking you with me,” she declared.

“Noelle…” Lucero blinked.

Determination washed over Noelle just as her pain increased from too much movement.

Her Blue couldn’t be dead. She refused to believe it. And she would scour the entire earth to replace him if that’s what it took.

She couldn’t give up.

Until she saw the evidence, with her own two eyes, that he was gone from this world, she would not even entertain the thought.

She would claw her way out if need be. She would hit Sergio where it hurt the most. But she would not—ever again—lose herself to her self-doubts.

“I’m fine,” she strained a smile. “I’m ok.”

“Let’s get you back to bed. I’ll apply more poultice to your back.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, turning on her belly on the bed for Lucero to work her magic on her back.

With Lucero’s help, Noelle started to heal slowly. Her wounds were tender for a few days but soon she regained her full mobility and could exit her room. Yet something even stranger occurred.

As she went about the house in an attempt to get more familiar with her surroundings, she realized that none of the other servants acknowledged her, and the few times she ran into Sergio’s man, Fernando, he gave her a harsh stare, a sneer pulling at his lip.

She imagined Sergio must have told him what had transpired on the wedding night. But despite this, she saw no sign of her husband.

Lucero, being more resourceful, told her that Sergio was still confined to his suite and he had yet to make an appearance outside of it. From what she’d overheard among the servants, everyone was worried about him.

Noelle was glad of it, though. If he was still absent, then maybe she’d injured him more than she remembered—maybe even mortally, and everyone was keeping it quiet. That gave her hope that she could somehow survive her until she found a way to go back home—back to her Blue.

With no one minding her business, Noelle started to gain more courage venturing outside and exploring the hacienda. Lucero introduced her to the main wings of the house and showed her to the stables and the surrounding areas.

One of the things she was curious about were the temples Lucero had told her about—the pyramid-like constructions that surrounded the hacienda.

A couple of them were completed, and the constructions were extraordinary in their level of detail and magnificence. But there were also a few that were under construction, with tens if not hundreds of workers toiling daily to build them.

“There are so many people working there,” Noelle noted one day.

It was January, but the sun was up in the sky, the day unlike any January day Noelle had ever experienced.

“They aren’t here of their own free will,” Lucero leaned in to whisper.

“What do you mean? Aren’t they doing this because they see Sergio as their god?” Noelle rolled her eyes at the statement, yet she couldn’t deny the reality she was living in. For days on end she’d witnessed a level of obsequiousness she’d never seen before, with everyone working at the hacienda bowing down to Sergio.

He didn’t even need to be present, for there were plenty of reminders of him all over the house; outside, too. Paintings, statues and other holy objects were laid all over the area of the hacienda, and people treated them with the utmost deference as if each object was imbued with Sergio’s essence.

If Noelle had doubted Lucero’s tales at first, she’d soon become convinced that the entire region operated on a cult-like level.

Everyone knew everyone, and outsiders were rarely permitted within the premise—and then, only by special invitation.

Like any cult she’d read about, Noelle realized that Sergio’s power relied on the limited knowledge he provided his subjects with. They didn’t know what the outside world was like, they couldn’t even imagine it. Lucero was the only one who’d been lucky enough to be exposed to some outside ideology that had made her doubt everything that had been drilled into her mind since young.

Most people were illiterate, too. The hacienda was littered with hieroglyph-like symbols that she recognized to be Aztec in origin, and the community only recognized those. Just one more way through which Sergio kept a tight leash over what his subjects were exposed to.

It was no wonder he was considered a god when it was all those people knew.

“No,” Lucero shook her head, pursing her lips as a sad look crossed her eyes. “El Señor’s subjects would never engage in such lowly work.”

“I don’t understand,” Noelle frowned.

“They are slaves. Some don’t even know where they are from. Others simply went against El Señor and they ended up there as punishment. The temple is the only place where you will ever replace outsiders at the hacienda. But they are not allowed to engage with anyone else. Their only task is to build the temple. Every day. Work their fingers to the bone.”

“That’s where you were before, too, no?” Noelle’s gaze dipped to Lucero’s scarred hands.

She gave a brisk nod.

“I was lucky,” Lucero said, her voice distant. “No one survives the temple. It’s just work, work, work, until death claims every one of them.”

“The man you were telling me about… He was a slave, too?”

“He was,” she confirmed. “He told me he was being held up for ransom but his family decided not to pay it. He would have been dead if I hadn’t helped him escape.”

“So the temple work is like a labor camp, no?”

Lucero nodded.

“It’s the place where everyone is sent to die. You have to be careful, Noelle. If by any chance he sends you there…”

“He hasn’t done so yet,” Noelle said pensively. “What if he’s not well?” She suddenly asked. “What if he’s dying and no one’s said anything because they don’t want it to get out? It’s been three weeks…”

“Maybe,” Lucero took a deep breath. “Everyone would be happier if that were so.”

The idea that slavery was still being practiced in that day and age shocked Noelle.

Had her brother known about it? Surely, he must have. He knew everything. Then how could he have willingly left her there?

For the first time, she was forced to admit she’d lived most of her life in a bubble. Only now was she exposed to the true debauchery of human nature. Only now did she realize that Ann Marie was just a little dot on the horizon compared to the monsters in the world.

Everything she’d previously experienced suddenly seemed so insignificant as she thought of those people who were forced to labor continuously until they met their death.

She’d never heard of such a thing before, and she didn’t think there was a worse death than being physically tortured daily in that manner, with no more autonomy over one’s body.

Long after their conversation, Noelle could not let the topic go—especially after she coaxed more details from Lucero about her experience. So one day, Noelle convinced her to go closer to one of the temples under construction—as close as they could considering it was heavily guarded.

As Noelle got a closer look at what was happening there, she realized why Lucero was so apprehensive about it.

From afar, she caught glimpses of the men and women working there. Most of them were skin and bone, with open wounds and blisters all over their bodies.

“You’re not allowed here,” someone said in Spanish.

“La Señora quiere ver el templo,” Lucero turned and gave an awkward smile to one of the guards.

“Pues puede ver el otro. Sabes las reglas,” he snapped, telling them they should leave.

Lucero apologized that they had come to the wrong temple and she promised the guard she would take Noelle to one of the already finished ones.

Noelle and Lucero spent the rest of the day chatting and having fun. Only a few weeks since they’d met, but they were already well on their way to becoming best friends.

For Noelle, that was the strangest thing.

Her only friend had ever been Blue.

It wasn’t entirely odd to her to replace someone she could get along with so well.

Similarly, Lucero couldn’t believe her luck that she’d been able to replace a friend in Noelle—was always so surprised by how kind the other girl was to her, a servant. And so she decided she would do her best to be her loyal companion and help her escape the hell she found herself in.

As the time came for Noelle to go to bed, she stopped in front of the door of her apartment and turned to Lucero.

“I’ll ask around if you can move in with me,” she suddenly said. She’d gathered that while Lucero’s position had changed, the condition of her lodgings was still poor. “There’s too much space for just one person and I would feel more at peace if you were by my side.”

Noelle didn’t say that she feared for her friend as much as she feared for herself. She didn’t want Lucero to be in danger for her association with her, but more than anything, she dreaded thinking of her living in her tiny and dirty quarters.

She was such a frail girl, and despite being a beauty, her body displayed the evidence of her harsh existence.

Lucero had ash blonde hair and light skin—both features she’d inherited from her unknown American father. Yet the rest of her spoke of her native ancestry—black eyes framed by thick lashes, dark eyebrows, full lips and high cheekbones.

She was beautiful, even with her scars and unkempt appearance, and Noelle had seen how some of the guards leered at her.

The last thing she wanted was for her friend to be unsafe.

She might be protected by the mark Sergio had carved into her chest that signaled her as cursed by the gods, but that would only hold as long as people feared Sergio. If anything happened to him and he was on his death bed… Noelle had no doubt mayhem would descend upon the hacienda.

“I’m not sure it will be allowed,” Lucero blushed, averting her gaze. “But I thank you for thinking about me.”

“You need to make sure you’re safe, too, ok? I worry about you,” Noelle whispered. “Always lock your door at night. You never know if one of the guards will get any strange ideas. I see how they look at you…”

Lucero nodded.

“Don’t worry. All my life I’ve been fending off the advances of men. I’ve gotten rather good at it,” she smiled.

“I’m glad,” Noelle told her sincerely. “You’re a strong woman, Lucero,” she squeezed her hands. “And one day you’re going to be able to be in control of your own life. I promise you that.”

“Is it strange that I believe you?” Lucero whispered.

Noelle shook her head.

“Good night,” she leaned in and kissed her cheeks.

“Good night, Noelle,” Lucero returned the kiss, hurrying down the corridor.

Noelle entered her apartment and her first thought was to take a relaxing bath. With her injuries well on their way to healing, she could finally enjoy a hot bath and not worry about reopening some of her wounds, nor the water stinging her skin at the lightest touch.

Despite her still confining circumstances, she felt lighter than she had in a long time.

Yet it was all too soon. For nothing could prepare her for what she encountered right in the middle of her sitting room.

Her eyes widened in shock as she drew to a halt.

“You…” she whispered.

“Missed me, my dear wife?” Sergio smirked at her.

He was alive, and looking much, much better than Noelle could have expected.

“I have a little surprise for you,” he said before he was upon her, his hand closing around her throat.

That close to him, she could see he was still wan, sweat beading his forehead. But even in his feeble state she was no match for him strength wise. No matter how much she pushed, she could do nothing. She could only accept that he was suffocating her—that he was bent on killing her right then and there.

“Let…go…” she whizzed as she brought her hands atop his in an attempt to push him off her.

He sneered at her, his face turning thunderous before he gripped her tightly and flung her into the wall.

The shock of the impact knocked the breath out of Noelle. A pop permeated the air, yet it was a sound to her ears only that signaled that her old injuries had torn anew, the pain immediate.

Tears clung to her lashes as she hugged her chest in an attempt to replace a modicum of peace.

“You stupid bit. Maldita puta,” Sergio thundered, coming towards her.

His steps faltered for a moment, and through the mist of pain, Noelle noticed that for all his display of strength he wasn’t completely recovered.

“I should fucking feed you to the dogs for what you did,” he spit at her.

“You’re still alive,” she spoke between harsh breaths. “It means I didn’t do that good of a job.”

She barely finished her words before the first slap came.

He caught her jaw with the back of his hand, the blow so strong she thought she saw stars for a moment.

Losing her equilibrium, she fell to the ground, dragging herself towards the door as blood started flowing freely down her face.

She lifted her hand, touching the tender flesh and noting the red coating her finger. The same red was now clinging to her back, the liquid sticking to the material of the dress the more she struggled—the more her wounds tore open.

Noelle looked wildly around her in an attempt to replace something to defend herself with. Yet it was all in vain because in the next moment he was upon her. Blow after blow, she had no way to stop them even as she curled onto the floor, shielding herself the best she could.

“Please…” She whispered in a dead voice. “Please…stop…”

But he didn’t.

He didn’t stop until she stopped moving. And even then, he only stopped because his own injury was paining him.

With one last look at her pitiful form on the floor, Sergio spat on her.

“I’ll make you rue the day you were born,” he promised, though Noelle could no longer process words at that point.

There was only pain. So much pain, and the promise of oblivion.