Page 46 of Until Retribution Burns (Beauty in Lies 3)

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Isa

Hugo flung open the front door when Chloe's frantic knocking echoed through the house. In the interest of preventing World War III, Rafe had seen fit to go check on the progress of sorting through the files at Matteo's. Most of the men had cleared out of the main space, leaving just the Cortes brothers to keep an eye on the situation as it unfolded.

Tucked behind the walls and the gate of Rafael's estate away from home, there was very little risk of a security threat. At least, one that would require me to have a dozen guards on my person at all times. The watchful eyes had quickly become stifling, even with just the three brothers in my space constantly.

I sat in the breakfast nook, waiting for Hugo to lead Chloe inside. The dining room table would have offered more seats for the five of us, but I couldn't stand the thought of sitting there after the clusterfuck that Odina had made out of dinner the night before. It felt like bad juju to repeat it again so quickly, and if I'd expected complications with convincing my family that Rafael and I were happy together?

Well, my mother had nothing on Chloe when she was worked up and ready to defend me.

Silence reigned in the moments after I heard the front door open, hinting at Chloe's shock. It surprised me that my mother wouldn't have mentioned Hugo's presence, and I honestly hadn't stopped to consider how things might have gone down between my two best friends in the end.

After Chloe had called to warn me, what had Hugo done?

Shit.

"You fucking asshole! Iknewyou were covering for him!" Chloe yelled, and I bolted from my seat to hurry into the foyer.

"Chloe," Hugo sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "Can you maybe get inside before you start bitching at me?"

"Wrong choice of words," I scolded him. "Complaining. Yelling. Those are both fine, but women are not bitches just because they disagree with something you did and chew you out for it. Safe bet: if you wouldn't refer to Rafe's rages as 'bitching' then don't do it when you're talking about a woman."

Chloe's eyes shifted to me, settling on me where I stood at the entrance to the foyer. In the casual strappy sandals and pretty wrap dress Rafe had set out for me this morning, I lifted my chin in an effort to look more confident in my skin. The scar on my thigh peeked out the bottom of the dress, and having it out in the open for people who knew me toalwayshide it felt strange. Vulnerable in a way I hadn't expected.

I'd gotten used to people's eyes on my skin, on that part of me that was so marked with what had once been my greatest shame. Where I might have once shifted to tug the dress down my leg to hide it, I felt strangely proud of the marks.

Of the fact that I'd survived when Miguel Ibarra tried to kill me in cold blood.

"You look beautiful," Chloe said, her brow furrowing as she stared at me. Confusion was written into the lines of her face, the stress of worrying about me undoubtedly having weighed on her in my absence.

I smiled to reassure her, stepping up to the doorway and taking her arm. I guided her into the house, her steps hesitant and slow in her surprise. "You were expecting to find me beaten and broken," I said. Her eyes dropped to Rafe’s name carved into my skin, and she raised her brow at me sardonically but refrained from saying a word.

She nodded, dropping into the seat at the breakfast nook where I deposited her. The chess set was on the other side of the table, because as much as I loved to play chess in Rafe's office when he was there to keep me company, I greatly preferred the natural light of the kitchen. "Everything I heard about him...." she trailed off.

"Is probably true," I admitted, not bothering to blow smoke up her ass and call it the truth. "Rafe is complicated, but you don't have to worry about him hurting me. Not like that." I moved to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses of the fresh lemonade that I couldn't seem to get enough of. I handed one to Chloe, watching as she puckered her lips against the tartness of it.

"Your mom said he strangled Odina," she said, her face twisting with something cruel.

There was that. As much as the darkest part of me had enjoyed watching her struggle, I regretted allowing it the next day. I hadn't liked seeing his hands on her in any way. "Strangled is a strong word for what he did. Honestly I think he's probably choked me harder when he fucks me."

Chloe sputtered on her second sip of lemonade, her eyes going wide as she stared at me. "And you're okay with that?"

I smiled at her, sipping my own lemonade through the straw as my eyes glimmered with the need to laugh. "I'm not a virgin anymore. We all have our kinks," I teased. I wasn't certain that was necessarily a kink of mine.

I just liked feeling Rafe's hands on me, whether that was on my throat or my breasts or my ass was irrelevant. I'd take whatever he gave like an addict and still beg him for more when he was done. I didn't care to dissect what that said about me.

"There's a big jump from virgin to liking being choked and cut up," she said, swallowing uncomfortably. There was no chance that it was the subject of sex that bothered her, because I knew Chloe had her share of experiences and had tried all manner of different things, though admittedly the knife might have been a stretch for her. She'd never been shy to talk about any of them with me. The main thing that bothered her was who my partner was. "Where is Rafe, anyway?" she asked.

"I thought it best that he was out of the house while we talked," I said, running my finger over the condensation on my glass. "I don't want you to think that I'm saying anything because he's listening."

"And what about the watchful eyes?" she said, lifting her chin to gesture to where the brothers had settled into the living room. Located within eyesight but not so close that they were smothering us, they didn't exactly blend in with the furniture.

"For my protection. Rafael has enemies, as I'm sure you can imagine. Hurting his wife would be a very efficient way to get to him." She nodded her agreement, even as she rolled her eyes at Hugo's arrogant grin when she turned her attention back to me.

"Are you happy?" she asked, glancing down to the rings on my finger. It appeared my mother had informed her of our marriage among other things.

I paused, letting her see as I thought through my answer. I wasn't sure happy would ever really describe my life with Rafe. Happy implied content. It implied being satisfied. "He makes me feel like I'm alive for the first time. My heart never stops racing and my body always thrums with this excitement for what comes next. I like being with him, and I love him. If that's not happiness, then I don't know what is."

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