The Foiled Plan (War of Sins Book 2)

‘You’ve really given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?’ Noelle smiles.

‘Of course,’ I reply, getting the luggage out of the car. ‘This was one of our favorite properties growing up. I have a lot of fond memories inside,’ my lips tug up as I take in the edifice.

Built in a neoclassical style but retaining some local features, the house sports three floors and nine bedrooms. Dating to the Gilded Age, the mansion is full of history and ostentatious displays. It was an extravagance my mother had insisted on even when we’d encountered financial difficulties.

‘Shall we?’

She nods enthusiastically.

After the succession matter had been tended to, I’d wanted to surprise Noelle with a small getaway to Newport, at our beach house.

I’d racked my brain to compile a thorough list and give her the honeymoon she deserved—certainly not the one she got.

When the lawyer had handed me a list of the family’s properties, I’d immediately known I wanted to take her here.

‘When was the last time someone’s been inside?’ She asks as we creep into the house.

‘I asked someone to come clean. The ground and first floors are operational, so you have nothing to worry about,’ I wink at her.

‘Wow, this is so beautiful,’ she exclaims when she gets a peek of the main hall. Darting inside, she twirls in the middle, her infectious laughter echoing through the entire structure.

‘Where are you going?’ I chuckle as I watch how entranced she is by the house.

‘Come,’ she grabs my hand, making me drop our luggage as she ushers me towards the day room, where the musical instruments are situated. Almost the size of a mini football field, the room is spacious, and absolutely perfect for the dancing she has in mind.

‘You know,’ she starts, catching her breath as she pushes me towards the center of the room. ‘My favorite fairytale growing up was Cinderella,’ she mentions just as I lift her arm up, leading her into a twirl.

‘Really? Why?’

‘Hmm, many reasons,’ she smiles. ‘It tells the story of a regular girl who gets the prince and who wouldn’t want that?’

Amused, I raise a brow at her.

‘But most of all, because it’s sprinkled with magic. And I think everyone, at one point or another in their lives, wished for a little magic,’ her words are soft but full of meaning.

‘When did you wish for magic?’ I ask, unable to help myself.

Her smile is tight as she continues to sway in my arms.

There’s no audible music, but we’re moving according to a shared internal melody and I find the dance even more glorious because of it.

‘Many times. When I was younger, I just wanted someone to notice me—to show me that they cared,’ she says with a melancholic expression on her face. ‘I thought that if I had just a little magic, I would be less ordinary and I would make them see me.’

From what I’d gleaned from Noelle, her birth had been so unexpected, no one had cared about raising another child by that point. Even now, though her mother still lives, she ignores her, preferring to live with her circle of fancy friends than with her own daughter.

‘But then, as I grew,’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I wished for magic so it wouldn’t hurt anymore…’ she trails off, afraid she’s revealed too much.

‘Pretty girl… You know you can talk to me,’ I tell her gently.

Though we’ve talked at length about our pasts, her time with Sergio has always been a sore subject, one she’d preferred not to get into details.

‘The first time he beat me was on our wedding night. I was in so much pain I couldn’t even move,’ she confesses. ‘After that it became a regular occurrence. If he was mad, or I happened to be around when he was in a bad mood, he’d use his fists on me.’

‘Noelle… Only a coward uses violence against a woman. He wasn’t a man. He was a coward.’

‘I know,’ she attempts a smile. ‘In public he was always a gentleman beyond reproach. No one knew the animal he was in private.’

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that,’ I lean in to kiss her nose. ‘I promise I’ll try to sprinkle some magic in your life from now on,’ my lips spread into a sheepish grin.

Throwing back her head, she laughs, the sound so melodic it’s making my mouth water. I can decidedly say that her happiness is my biggest turn on, my entire body vibrating in tandem with hers.

‘You already have,’ her lips spread into a blinding smile.

Lost in her gaze, I continue to twirl her around the floor, our bodies in sync as we move to the soundless music.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ a voice interrupts us, and as I look to the entrance, I see one of the staff I’d hired. ‘I didn’t know you had already arrived, sir,’ an elderly woman says before going in depth about everything she and her team had done.

‘On your request, we’ve also stocked the fridge with food and drinks, so you shouldn’t want for anything. There are shops close by too, and I’ve left a mini guide to the area since I know it can be confusing for some.’

‘Thank you,’ I say as I lead her out, tipping her generously for her work.

‘This house is absolutely dreamy, Raf,’ Noelle exclaims when she sees the first floor. ‘Can we live here?’

‘I reckon we could. At least for a few months of the year.’

The master bedroom is one of the highlights of the house. Spread over half the floor, it comes with a sitting room, an enclosed closet and a huge ensuite bathroom.

As soon as Noelle opens the door to the master suite, her eyes go wide at the size of the bed.

With no warning, she dashes towards it, jumping on top and giggling as the mattress bounces with her.

‘You’re having too much fun, aren’t you?’ I comment as I shrug off my blazer, rolling my sleeves and joining her.

Sprawled on the bed, her skirt is ruffled around her thighs, her top riding up ever so slightly and revealing delectable inches of flesh.

‘Yupp,’ she answers impishly, ‘I can feel the freedom in the air. Freedom and happiness.’ She spreads her arms, tipping her head back and closing her eyes as she inhales deeply.

Though not an open invitation, I can’t pass up on the opportunity, and I slip between her arms, hugging her at the waist and drawing her into my embrace.

A giggle escapes her as she pushes me on the mattress.

Tumbling together on the soft cushion, she lands on top of me, nestling closer. We sit like that for what feels like forever, lost in the contentment of the moment.

‘Do you find it weird that this is where your parents used to stay?’ she asks in a quiet voice.

Resting on my chest, she places her hands under her chin as she gazes at me.

‘Not really. At least not in that way. There’s a melancholic quality to seeing the house again, especially knowing how much it meant to my mother.’

‘She had good taste,’ she smiles as she points towards the furniture.

The interior had been decorated in a Louis fourteenth style, with gilded and ornate accessories everywhere to complement the ostentatious ceiling.

‘She did,’ I smile fondly.

Her hand reaches out as she strokes my cheek, an affectionate look at her face.

‘You’re such a sweetheart, Raf,’ she whispers in awe, her eyes sparkling with so much love I feel my own chest swell with the feeling. ‘I feel incredibly lucky to be your wife,’ she says as she leans towards me to lay her lips on mine.

‘It’s me who’s the lucky one, pretty girl,’ I cup her face with my hands, bringing her closer. ‘Because you forgave me when I didn’t deserve it,’ I confess.

Though our relationship has improved considerably over time and I can feel her love in every pore of my body, I still can’t find it within me to forgive myself for everything I’ve caused her—for the known and the unknown.

Maybe I should just be glad she only sees the good in me. Yet how can I, when I know the extent of what I’ve done?

She keeps seeing me as the good guy, and maybe in time, I’ll learn to see myself through her eyes. But until then, I know the truth.

I’m a farce.

I’m nothing but a charlatan.

Michele’s words ring in my head. How many times had he called me out for it? That my being branded as good had nothing to do with me, it was all relative to him?

In reality, I’m so far removed from good, it would be laughable to refer to me as such.

‘It was based on a misunderstanding,’ she says, frowning. ‘How could I not forgive you when you’ve admitted your mistake and have continuously tried to correct it? When you’ve dedicated yourself to show me how much you care about me? How could I not, Raf, when I’ve never in my life felt as cherished as I do now?’ There’s a poignancy to her words that reaches deep within me, affecting me when little else does these days.

But isn’t that the core of the issue?

She sees me through the prism of her experiences. She’s only known heartache and pain, so how is she not to react when someone extends a hand of kindness?

But how would she react when she realizes the man she’s gotten to love isn’t what he seems?

The doubts continue to plague me.

It’s quite ironic. Now that the danger is gone, I should rejoice at my good fortune and at this precious moment of peace. Yet I find myself unable to do that when my insides are on fire, the lies burning on my tongue even as I tell them to myself.

It had been easy to ignore that side of me until now. It had been easy to pretend.

But that one encounter with my brother has made me face my inner demons in a way nothing else could. It had put a mirror in front of me and it had ordered look.

And I looked.

I fucking looked, and I hated what I saw.

I’m the good guy. Yet how come this good guy succeeded in hurting both his brother and his beloved?

‘Don’t leave me,’ the words are out of my mouth before I can help it. ‘Don’t ever leave me,’ I plead with an uncharacteristic urgency.

‘Never,’ she whispers before her lips are on mine again.

At first, it’s the tiniest brush—a tentative contact that makes my heart summersault in my chest. But soon, her lips gain more courage as she parts them, her tongue reaching out to mine as they embark on a slow yet sensuous dance.

My hands on her waist, I keep her to me—close to my body so she can’t ever escape. But even this nearness isn’t enough.

Will it ever be enough?

The kiss becomes increasingly heated, but we don’t go further. We kiss and kiss until kissing is all I know.

Me. Her. Kissing.

Her lips are my solace and my escape, and I revel in the intimacy of the moment. Her presence calms me and draws me in until I’m drunk on her, her touch my imperative to live.

For the longest time, we just stay like this—lost in a never ending embrace.

And one thing is clear.

I would do anything to keep this. Anything to protect the love I see in her eyes. Anything to make sure she never finds out.

Because then…

I’ll truly lose everything.

‘You’re sure it’s done?’ I place my phone between my ear and my shoulder as I try to flip the meat in the pan.

‘Everything has been filed. I’ll send you pictures of documents,’ Carlos tells me, the sound of cars honking in the background making it hard to hear.

‘Good. I’m glad we got that out of the way. It’s one less stress for me,’ I breathe relieved.

‘Does she know about it?’

‘No. I haven’t told her yet,’ I purse my lips as I speak.

Knowing how precarious Noelle’s situation is within her family, I’d been liaising with a lawyer and her doctor to find ways for her to inherit everything in my name and not have to depend on a guardian, thereby dissolving the conservatorship Cisco had enacted over her.

For that, though, she’ll have to undergo a thorough psychiatric exam and get Gianna’s signature that she’s good to go.

I’d had some talks with my sister on the matter, and though she’d preferred not to disclose any details from her meetings with Noelle, she’d told me she was doing much better. In fact, she’d attributed her change in spirits to our relationship and the fact that she’d become more optimistic towards the future instead of being hung up on the past.

From the beginning I’d known that in order to be on equal footing I’d have to do this. Otherwise, how am I to prove to her that I’ve changed if I still hold the keys to her future in my hands? If I’m still a potential executioner?

Briefly, my previous plan about having her committed flashes through my mind and I feel ashamed of everything I’d schemed.

She doesn’t know.

Another item on the list of things I’m keeping from her.

This, though, might be something she’d forgive me for. I can practically see her as she’d look at me with that forgiving expression on her face while telling me it was all because of a misunderstanding.

She can think it was a misunderstanding as much as she wants, but at the end of the day I know what it is—taking ownership from me for something I did, and excusing the inexcusable.

It wasn’t a misunderstanding so much as it was my stubbornness and my pride—the fact that I was so sure in my version of justice I was ready to crucify her for it.

Who the fuck did I think I was?

The more I think about my initial behavior towards her, the more I hate myself and my fucking self-righteousness.

For as long as I live I don’t think I’m going to make up for all the hurt I’ve caused her. But I sure as hell can try.

‘What about the other thing I asked you?’ I change the topic.

‘I’m monitoring him closely. I haven’t told anyone else that we’re suspecting Panchito of the leak, so I’m flying solo on this,’ Carlos grunts.

He doesn’t like this any more than I do.

Panchito has been family over the last couple of years. And family doesn’t stab family in the back—mine excluded.

I wish this was nothing more than a hunch, but as I’d gone over every variable of that day, there had been only one answer. Panchito had been the only person that knew all the details of the operation and with access to the network to be able to mess with the footage.

‘Good. Keep me posted.’

I’ve been relying a lot on Carlos lately, relinquishing to him all the control over our new venture into the weapons black market. Truthfully, he’s more invested anyway, since his main objective is to get to Ortega and reclaim his legacy. I was only involved because it was a direct link to my brother. With that issue out of the way, it’s not my business anymore. Especially since the bounty on my head expired with Michele’s death. After all, there wouldn’t be anyone else to pay the money.

Now, I’m content to manage the family enterprise, carefully skirting the line of legality as I build a future for me and my wife. More than anything, I don’t want to get wrapped up in another dangerous situation and put her at risk.

‘How long are you staying there?’

‘I don’t know. A while. Noelle deserves a vacation after everything that’s happened.’

‘You deserve one too, Raf,’ Carlos chuckles. ‘I’m happy for you, man. Truly. Now go to your girl. I’ll talk to you later.’

Hanging up, I throw the phone somewhere on the counter before I check the temperature of the chicken.

Good thing that the kitchen is fully stocked, because after reading so many articles and recipes, I’ve realized that cooking isn’t only about having all the ingredients in one place. Oh, no. You need so many tools, pans, and utensils that even thinking about it has me on the brink of a headache.

That’s not to say I will give up.

Satisfied with the temperature of the chicken, I place a piece on each plate as I start working on the side dishes.

While I put the rice on the stove, I start chopping vegetables. In the back of my mind, though, I keep thinking I’m doing something wrong.

‘Something smells good,’ her voice startles me, and my knife goes straight through half an onion instead of a section.

Damn.

‘I’m making lunch,’ I pull my lips into a smile as I turn around, using my hand to push the badly cut onion to the side.

‘You are?’ her brows shoot up in surprise. ‘Wow, I was not expecting that,’ she exclaims as she comes around the table, peering at the plates.

For a moment, as I take her in, I forget about cooking.

I forget to fucking breathe.

She’s wearing a pair of shorts that are too short, her ass cheeks visible as she makes a quick twirl. There’s only a tiny bandeau top covering her tits, her nipples already two pointy tips angled in my direction.

That’s a lot of naked flesh and it’s only noon. How am I supposed to last until tonight?

My throat goes dry as I try to swallow.

‘What can I do to help?’ She smiles at me, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

‘Absolutely nothing!’ I declare loudly. ‘You will take a seat while I finish things up, and then we will eat together.’

She tilts her head to the side as she studies me in amusement.

‘If you say so,’ she shrugs, taking a seat.

Repeating the recipe steps to myself, I make sure everything is right before throwing the vegetables in the pan.

I’m almost sweating looking at the messy counter and the fact that the vegetables look as if they’d been cut with an ax.

Damn it, but why did she have to come here earlier?

Now, instead of seeing the perfect end result, she’s going to witness me scrambling about the kitchen like I’ve never been in one before—which, admittedly, is true.

‘What’s the occasion?’ She inquiries, amused, and as I turn to her it’s to see her eyes rove over the counter top, no doubt cataloging all my mistakes.

I gulp down as I close my eyes. Then, taking a deep breath, I simply put on my best smile.

‘Can’t I surprise my wife with a home cooked meal?’

‘You don’t know how to cook, Raf,’ she rolls her eyes at me. ‘So spill. What did you do?’

I frown.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did you do something wrong? Is that why you’re trying to make me lunch? If you tell me about it I promise I won’t be mad,’ she nods, her lips tugging up in a pleasant smile.

I swivel, my gaze intent on hers.

‘I didn’t do anything, my dear wife,’ I tell her proudly. ‘I do aim, however, to become a more domestic husband,’ I add, internally cringing at my word choice. ‘We’re all alone here, so I won’t expect you to cook all our meals,’ I hurry to explain. ‘Besides, can’t I do something nice for you?’

‘Really?’ She leans back, still looking at me unconvinced. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t use your hunting knife,’ she chuckles. ‘Or wait,’ she puts her palm up as she jumps out of her seat and comes to my side. ‘You did, didn’t you?’ She asks as she points at the wedges I’d cut.

‘I didn’t,’ I grumble under my breath, realizing it’s futile to argue now.

And this is exactly why I didn’t want her to see the food before I got to cook it. I’m sure once the vegetables steamed, they wouldn’t look like uneven blocks anymore.

‘Hmm,’ she hums as she looks around, inspecting everything I’m doing. ‘I look forward to having a domestic husband then,’ she raises herself on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, twirling and going back to the table before I can react.

One touch of her lips and my body is already heated.

‘Damn it,’ I mutter as I do my best to focus on the task at hand.

Having her here is nothing but distracting, and I find myself sneaking peeks at her when I should be watching the food.

‘Raf!’

I blink suddenly, my confused gaze clashing with her scandalized one.

‘What?’ I sputter, jumping up as the smoke starts assailing my senses.

‘Move aside,’ she says as she pushes me out of the way.

Smoke is coming from the food, and I assume that means it’s no longer good to eat.

‘I did that, didn’t I?’ I sigh, looking at the desolate sight with disappointment.

‘You could have prevented this, you know,’ she adds, amused—not at all annoyed as I would have expected. ‘If you had answered me the first five times I called your name.’

Taking the pan, she dumps the already darkened contents in a trashcan. Then, she proceeds to cut another batch.

‘You… did?’ I ask tentatively, my eyes following her movements as I try to memorize the right way of chopping vegetables.

‘Sure did. But you seemed rather transfixed by something else,’ she tilts her head, daring me to defend myself.

‘I did,’ I nod, thoroughly chastised. ‘But it’s not my fault,’ I’m quick to add. ‘How can it be my fault when you’re a walking hazard?’

‘A walking hazard? Me?’

‘Indeed. Who told you to wear that?’ I point towards her flimsy top. ‘I was doing mighty fine before you walked into the room.’ I cross my arms over my chest.

‘So now it’s my fault?’

‘Of course. How can I focus on preparing food when you’re dangling dessert in front of me?’ I ask in indignation.

‘Dessert, huh?’

A playful smile spreads on her lips as she bats her lashes at me. At the same time, she thrusts her ass backwards, the curve so tantalizing I can’t help my eyes roving over her shape.

‘Eyes here, my darling domestic husband. You were cooking, weren’t you?’ She whispers, her husky voice going straight to my cock.

To hell with cooking. To hell with food. Fuck, to hell with everything else that isn’t her…

‘Right,’ I clear my throat, pushing my primitive thoughts aside. Grabbing the pan from her, I put it on the stove, throwing some oil and the vegetables inside while taking a spatula and stirring them around.

This time, she doesn’t leave my side, watching everything I do and making sure I don’t set the house on fire.

‘Let me add some seasoning,’ she browses the selection before sprinkling a few types on top of the stir fry.

‘Is it done?’ I ask after a while, unable to tell.

She nods.

‘Great,’ I release a relieved breath. ‘Let’s eat then.’ I gently steer her back to the table.

When the meat is already cooked, I quickly portion the rice and vegetables, taking a seat when everything is done.

‘This isn’t half bad,’ she notes as she takes a bite of the meat. ‘There might be hope for you after all.’

‘I’ll become the best cook ever,’ I declare, puffing my chest. ‘Just you wait and see.’

‘If you say so…’ she trails off, but her tone tells me she’s laughing at me.

‘Give me your top five favorite foods. By the end of the week, I’ll be able to make them all,’ I burst out, belatedly realizing I’m biting more than I can chew—ironic as it sounds.

‘Raf,’ she laughs, ‘this isn’t a competition. If you really want to learn, I’ll be happy to eat whatever you cook,’ she says with a gentle smile.

‘So?’

‘I’m not a fussy eater, although I prefer food on the spicier side. Chicken is good. I also like seafood so you could try that next time, especially since we’re close to the ocean.’

‘That’s right. We can go to the market and see if they have any fresh stuff.’

‘That sounds lovely.’

She continues eating, and while I should do the same, I find myself just staring at her—again.

Fuck, I’m such a lucky bastard.