The Taste Of Revenge (War of Sins Book 1)

Rafaelo

I don't follow her, allowing her a brief reprieve while she undoubtedly plays the victim to her therapist. Instead, I occupy my time by going over the footage Panchito had managed to get of Michele. It's not much, but at least it's something.

My relationship with Michele had changed after we'd gone through puberty. We stopped being on good terms, both of us coping with the expectations placed on us differently. At the same time, we'd both put on masks for the world, so while I do know him, I don't—not really.

From the recent reports I'd gotten, it seems that Michele had been hiding more than his personality—but also an affinity for numbers.

When I'd realized he'd taken over the family business, I'd thought that he was going to run it into the ground within the year. To my eternal surprise, he hadn't.

If anything, he'd turned things around in such a way Benedicto could have only hoped to do.

He'd revived old businesses and invested smartly, all resulting in an increase in the family's net worth and marking his ventures as competitive and advantageous to the outside world—the reason Ortega's been trying to do business with him in the first place.

I have to wonder if this is all him, or if he was just wise enough to hire smart people for the job. Regardless, the more I find out about Michele, the more I realize I don't know my brother at all.

Starting the footage, it's to see him walk out of a building with an arrogant stride, his sunglasses perched up his nose as he looks right and left. There's an entire entourage of people behind him, following closely. And as he raises his head in the direction of the camera, lowering his glasses and narrowing his eyes at the lens, he goes into a tirade. His men are quick to react, one of them raising a weapon and shooting the camera.

Interesting.

The rest of the video feeds tell a similar story—they'd all captured him unaware after which he'd promptly gotten rid of the camera. And going by the few other details I have on him, it's safe to say his paranoia knows no bounds.

He doesn't like to be seen in public, or be captured by cameras. He rarely attends events, even though his presence is required at all times. If anything, the only time he seems to get out is during the night, with a few road cameras capturing his car on the freeway.

In the past, Michele had been nothing if not ostentatious, so to see him shying away from public appearances and taking so much care not to be spotted is intriguing.

I mark down some observations, but as I realize I'd been too immersed in my work, I quickly check the time, noting Noelle is running late.

Cisco's words ring in my ears and I can't help but think she might have tried to run away—apparently it wouldn't be the first time.

A scowl on my face, I instruct the driver to wait for us while I head directly to the therapist's office.

The elevator pings as I arrive at the right floor, and as I get out, it's to see Noelle in the hallway, chatting with another woman.

Narrowing my eyes at her, I take a step forward. But as the other woman turns, I freeze, feeling myself rooted to the spot.

She gives Noelle a smile as she brushes her hand down her arm in a comforting gesture. A slow smile appears on Noelle's face, her expression unguarded for the first time. But as she turns her head in my direction, her soft features become harsh as she glares at me. A nod at the woman by her side and she starts in my direction.

I'm not entirely concerned by her, though. Not when someone I hadn't seen in years is right in front of me.

'Wait for me at the car, Noelle,' I bark the order, my voice leaving no room for discussion as her eyes widen. 'Now.'