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He doesn't react, so I continue speaking, watching for every little micro-expression.
"You speak of your wonderful revenge plans; of everything you want to do to Raf and how you want him to suffer. But I have to yet see the evidence of that."
He narrows his eyes at me.
"You don't want him hurt, do you? You think I don't know what happened with Armand?" I raise a brow, daring him to lie to me about that.
The moment I'd gotten the full truth about Armand from Raf, years ago, I'd set to find out everything I could about the man. After all, I was, and still am, a woman on a mission. No stone will remain unturned as long as something happens to my beloved. Despite Armand's death, my inquiries had not been in vain—especially as I'd found out the identity of his killer.
"Careful, Noelle. Next you're going to suggest I take shifts at the local dog shelter."
"You might as well," I shrug. "Hasn't Lovely converted you yet?"
He smiles, a sinister smile that's telling me to tread very carefully.
"He has in fact," he smirks. "That also means you're not getting him back. His dog-mind already seesmeas his master."
I blink, a little taken aback by that. Does he not realize how much that one line reveals about him?
"Michele," I smile. "You don't fool me. You might have done so before, but not anymore. If you wanted to, you could have killed Raf months ago—the first time he stepped foot in New York City. But you never wanted that—you could never take it that far."
"I'm intrigued by this little scenario of yours. So tell me, then, why do you think that is?" he inquires casually.
"You still care about your brother. You can't bring yourself to harm him."
"He's not my brother," he states in his bored tone, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes.
"If you say so," I play his game.
"Let's say you're right and I don't want to hurtmy brother," he drawls dangerously. "That would mean I don't want to see him get hurt by others either."
The implication is clear.
"Is that a threat?" I demand sharply.
"You may interpret it as such," he replies, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
He thinks he has me backed into a corner, doesn't he? Too bad I'm not the only one with something to lose. I see exactly what he's gunning for.
This isn't some sort of kindness he's doing to Raf. No, the truth would simply destroy my husband, and Michele knows that.
He may not be able to bring himself to physically harm him, but he is always up for what he does best—psychological warfare. And in this instance, telling Raf the truth about me would be killing him from the inside out.
Michele would never need to worry about Raf again. Nor about me.
"You know, brother-in-law," I start, mimicking him. "You said it yourself. We're not that much different. We love who we love because they embody everything we are not. They remind us of everything wecouldhave been."
His entire demeanor suddenly changes as he hears the word love.
"Love?" he spits the word as if it's pure poison. "What bullshit are you spouting now, Noelle?"
"Venezia," I simply state.
His cheek twitches. I don't know if he realizes that the mere mention of her name makes him tense.
"And you think I love her?"
Just like that, his mask is back on. Sporting an amused smile, he leans against the car as he gives me the same lazy do-over as before—as if I'm miles beneath him.
