The Moral Dilemma (War of Sins Book 5)

NOELLE TIP-TOED around the hallway until she made it to the backyard, careful to not be spotted by any of the guards. The alcohol she’d imbibed in made her more daring than before, and giggling to herself, she simply dashed across the courtyard until she reached the facility.

As expected, there were guards stationed out front, but since her privileges had been returned, they didn’t bat an eye that she went inside, swiping her ID to open the door.

So daring she was, in fact, that she didn’t even stop by her office, going straight to Rafaelo’s room and opening it with her spare key.

She was too caught up in her own mind to know what to expect—certainly she didn’t think much of his violent moods anymore. According to the schedule she’d learned by heart, he was administered the drug once every twelve hours. During the night he was under the influence and during the day he fought against the craving of the drug.

The only thing she’d managed to do to help him had been to sneak him more nutritious food, increase his liquid ration so that he was hydrated at all times and give him painkillers in case he agonized in that wretched state.

The moment she’d found out that he’d been placed on that drug, she’d tried her best to replace his dose with a placebo, but that had failed when she’d realized the doctors in charge were monitoring his vitals throughout the day, noting the spike of the drug and the effects of the withdrawal.

It had been worth a try, even though she’d known she was putting herself at risk of being found out. But in the end, it hadn’t helped at all.

Rafaelo was still on the drug, and with each day, his addiction grew stronger.

“I’m going to get you out of here”, she whispered to herself as she opened the door.

She knew that time was of the essence—the more days he spent on the drug, the harder it would be for him to wean himself off of it. Yet for all her hope that they’d be able to escape soon, she couldn’t seem to find the right moment. And to choose the wrong one… that would simply mean condemning both of them to an early grave.

She’d known from the beginning that she’d follow him anywhere—in this life or the next. But she rather liked living, so death was out of the question. After all, she hadn’t made it this far just to settle for an easy way out.

She was a fighter. And she would fight for their happiness.

Stepping inside the room, she shielded her eyes at the brightness that assaulted her.

The space was fully lit, the stark white of the walls making it seem even brighter.

As she closed the door behind her, hearing the lock click in place, she was once more overcome with the impulse to just take Raf with her and run away. But that would be a foolish decision. They would only make it a few miles and they would be shot down—of that she was sure.

There was also the issue of Lucero, who Noelle had no doubt would suffer the repercussions were she to try to escape impulsively. No, she needed to think things through, so that the three of them would get away with their lives intact.

As her eyes adjusted to the brightness of the room, she realized Raf was right in front of her, his features taut as he regarded her.

“You again,” he spat out, his words full of venom. “What are you doing here again?”

Her eyes widened in shock.

“You… remember?” she whispered.

“What do you mean I remember? Was I supposed to forget?” he snapped, coming closer.

Noelle took a step back, her heart racing.

This wasn’t going how she thought it would go. He wasn’t supposed to remember her, right? He was supposed to forget everything under the influence of the drug.

“How…” she uttered in confusion.

“You’ve come to taunt me again?” he demanded, prowling towards her with a predatory smile on his face. “Which role are you playing tonight? Noelle, or Lucero?” he asked mockingly.

“Raf…” Noelle wet her lips. “Stop.” She put her hand up. “Hear me out, please…” She added with uncertainty.

The alcoholic haze started to lift the more he advanced towards her. She backed away until her spine hit the door, her hand on the knob, as she struggled to plug the key in the keyhole.

“Scared?” he chuckled.

“No… I… Would you please just listen to me?” she mumbled nervously, her eyes roaming around the room as she thought about an escape plan.

Bad, bad, idea. She shouldn’t have come! He was far from harmless, and the look on his face told her as much. But more than anything, he wasn’t supposed to remember, damn it! He was supposed to be surprised at her presence, so that she might introduce herself carefully.

Yet as those thoughts churned inside her mind, she vaguely remembered reading an article about memory and the fact that it could be retrieved when the state matched the one when the memory had been stored.

Was this what was happening? Was he only remembering her while he was on drugs, forgetting the following day when they wore off?

She tried to remember what she’d read, but she came up blank. She could only recall some mention of PTSD and how traumatic events could have an effect on memory, not erasing it, but simply making it so it’s not as accessible when not in the same traumatic state. If that was similar to what was happening here, then it meant that the drug created a new state for Raf, one where he was not only different, but he stored memories differently. And that meant… her entire plan was moot.

“Raf,” she squeaked as she found herself face to face with him, his hand around her throat like last time.

“Speak then.” He smirked. “But I doubt there’s anything that will make me change my mind. You’re mine tonight, Noelle. And this time I’m not letting you go,” he rasped, his breath caressing her ear.

While under any other circumstances she would have loved to hear her name on his lips, or the promise of being his, this time though she knew exactly what he meant. He truly meant to harm her.

Her pulse flickered as he tightened his hold on her throat.

“Cadmium Quercitron,” she whispered, bringing her gaze to his.

At first, he frowned. Slowly, his eyes widened.

“What?” he croaked. “What did you just say?”

“Cadmium Quercitron. It’s my favorite color.”

“How… How do you know that? Only curiouscat would know that…” he whispered, bewildered.

“Yes. You’re looking at her.”

They were both breathing hard as they stared at each other—Noelle defiantly at him, Raf in shock at her.

Suddenly, he released her, stepping back.

He paced around the room, his muscles straining under his loose linen blouse.

“Explain,” he snapped, giving her a harsh look.

“I’ve known you for years, Raf. I’m not trying to make fun of you—never. From the beginning, everything I’ve done has been to protect you,” Noelle started, slowly going back to their first online meeting and recounting how they’d gotten closer over time. She shared things only the two of them could know.

As she talked, she studied his reactions intently, wishing she knew his thoughts. His expression was as taut as before, giving nothing away but anger, and her hope slowly flickered out.

“I saw you once. At the mall,” she continued, relating how she’d come to know what he looked like. “I’ve been in love with you for years, Raf. Years. I wanted to meet you that day more than anything, but my family found out what I was about to do and they locked me in my room.”

She told him about the circumstances of her marriage and the fact that she’d been forced into it. She didn’t go into too much detail about what had happened to her as Sergio’s wife, not wanting to bring up that painful conversation at this time.

“I never forgot about you. And when I heard you were missing, I did everything in my power to find you. And I did. I found you. And I brought you here.” She paused, taking a deep breath as she watched his reaction.

He was with his back to her, and he stood unnaturally still.

“You brought me here?”

“I bought you at that auction so that no one else would. I…”

He turned, his eyes flashing as he pulled her towards him.

“You what?”

“I’m going to get you out of here, Raf. That was the plan from the beginning. I’m going to get both of us out of here. It just might take me a bit of time since Sergio can’t find out who you are to me. If he does…” she swallowed hard. “If he does, he’ll kill you.”

He continued to look at her. She didn’t know what he was seeing, but she didn’t have the courage to ask. She’d told him almost everything that had happened—all their history. It had to count for something, didn’t it?

A shiver went down her back before her limbs started trembling.

God, she hated the uncertainty of the moment, this deafening silence that made her pulse spike up with fear.

“How long were you going to lie to me about Lucero?”

“As long as I needed to. I couldn’t afford you recognizing me, or doing anything that might give away our relationship. Everything hinges on Sergio not knowing who you are to me.”

“So you pretended to hate me.”

“Yes.”

“You flirted with other men.”

“Yes.”

“You smiled at other men.”

“Yes…” she stammered.

There was a dangerous intensity rolling off of him, and she didn’t know whether she should be afraid or not. Did he still want to harm her? If only he would tell her what he was feeling—if he hated her or not…

“All so no one would realize that you loved me.”

“That is correct.” She nodded, nibbling at her bottom lip.

His eyes dipped to her mouth, his pupils expanding.

“Was anything that you said to me in the cell true? You’ve never kissed another man?”

Noelle shook her head.

“No, I swear to you,” she added emphatically.

His lips curved up in a dangerous smile.

“Good,” he murmured. His palm moved from her neck to her jaw, stroking it lightly before brushing his thumb across her lips, smearing the red lipstick all around her skin.

“What do you mean by that?” she murmured, her eyes on him. “Are you mad at me? I’m really sorry for everything, Raf, but it was the only way I could do this—the only way that I could ensure your safety. You have to believe me. I love you more than anything in the world. I would never purposefully hurt you or play with your feelings. Everything was real. I swear to you on my life,” she declared effusively. “I…”

Her words were cut off as he silenced her with one finger.

“I believe you,” he told her, his voice gruff—almost strained. “And that means you’re mine now, aren’t you?”

Noelle blinked in surprise.

“Of course I’m yours,” she replied seriously. “I’ve always been yours. I’ve loved you since I was fifteen…” she trailed off as she realized her blunder. She might have told him the truth but she’d omitted to include her age.

She expected him to take note of that—act outraged, maybe even disappointed.

He didn’t bat an eye though.

He merely stared intently at her, his finger still on her lips. His eyes darkened, so much so she could no longer see the blue of his beautiful irises, only the blackness of his pupils. His muscles were coiled tight, and despite the fact that he didn’t move to harm her, she could feel the undercurrent of his anger.

He was still on the drug.

It was so easy to forget he wasn’t completely sober even though he was fully lucid. He was still under the influence of the stimulant and that made him unpredictable.

“Take off your dress,” he rasped, his words harsh and curt.

“W-what?”

“Take off your dress or I’ll rip it.”

“W-what? Raf, what are you talking about?” Noelle blinked, confusion swirling in her gaze.

He didn’t answer her, merely raised his brows at her in a challenge.

Holding his gaze, she brought her fingers to the zipper of her dress, pulling it down before sliding the garment off. It pooled at her feet, leaving her too naked for comfort.

“No underwear,” he noted as his eyes roved down her body.

“N-no,” she whispered, the need to shield herself eating at her. But she didn’t. She tipped her chin up, meeting his gaze with defiance.

She didn’t know what his game was—she didn’t know how this Raf operated at all. Yet regardless of the drug’s influence on him, he was still her Raf—the man that she loved. This was just another side of him for her to fall in love with.

Before she knew what was going to happen, he turned her around. She braced herself against the wall, her palms touching the cool concrete.

“Who hurt you?” His words were accompanied by a low growl as a finger skimmed the surface of her lower back where the majority of her scars were. “I remember feeling these. But seeing them…” he trailed off abruptly. “Who hurt you?”

“Sergio,” she whispered, blinking away tears.

“What did he do to you, Noelle? Tell me,” he demanded, still caressing her flesh and getting intimately acquainted with the worst of her scars.