Taste of revenge

14

Chapter Fourteen
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."

I don't wait for her protest as I put one foot in front of another until I'm
standing in front of the other woman.
She turns, finally noticing me.
Her lips part in surprise, her honey colored eyes sparkling with warmth
as she gazes at me.
One moment we're both staring at one another, the next she runs
towards me, jumping in my arms.
"Raf," she whispers as she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.
"God, Gianna," I mutter in disbelief. "This was the last place I would
have thought to see you."
"Well," she says sheepishly as she steps back, looking me up and down.
"I might have had some words with Cisco."
It dawns on me why he'd suggested I accompany Noelle to her therapy
appointment.
"Cisco?" I ask in disbelief, since he'd been the main culprit behind her
fall from grace all those years ago.
"It's a long story," she mentions, quickly going over how she'd married
her bodyguard, Cisco's uncle, and had reconnected with the family a while
back because her husband had been worried about Noelle.
"We agreed I could try to talk to her since none of her previous
therapists managed to break her out of her shell," she says grimly as she
gives me a short account of what she'd been up to in the years that have
passed and that she'd become a trained therapist.
The more she talks about Noelle and her problems, I can't help myself
but ask.
"Is it true she has amnesia then?"
"Raf... You might be my brother, but she's my patient," she gives me a
sad smile. "I can't tell you that."
"Just a yes or no," I insist, needing some type of confirmation.
"Her condition is delicate," she replies cryptically. "Be kind to her, will
you? Some of the things she's been through..." she shakes her head.
"Are you sure she's not faking it?"
Her eyes widen at my question.
"No, she's not faking anything, Raf." She purses her lips for a moment.
"I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but I will say this. Don't judge a person
until you've walked a mile in their shoes. There's more to her than meets the