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-------NOTE------
Dear readers, I'm sorry for the late update. I edited this chapter way too many times and hence it got late. However, I'm really sorry for the delay.
Coming to the previous chapter, thank you for the votes and thank you a million tons for all the exciting comments that made me extremely delightful.
Hope you'll keep supporting me further too.
Enjoy reading!!!
----NOTE ENDS---
VINCENT
"Do you know Hernan Romero?", I asked calmly, looking at her.
Her hand froze midair, her posture stiffening evidently.
That reaction spiked my suspicion further.
She placed the fork down and after a moment's pause, she leaned back and looked me straight in the eyes.
"I don't know who you're talking about.", she replied in a neutral tone.
Lie.
As stoic as her eyes were, they couldn't conceal the specks of anger, loathe and anxiety flickering faintly within those orbs.
Steering her gaze away from me, she picked her fork up and continued eating silently.
I let the silence take over as my mind drifted to the questions.
Hernan Romero is an out and out thug who revels in manipulating local captains in our organization, blackmailing them, sprouting the seeds of rebellion. Apart from his efforts to meddle in our business, he wanders around in bro**els, tortures and rapes wives, daughters and any female relatives of those who do not submit to his whims to force them onto his side.
A barbaric bast**d.
How, then, is he related to her?
What could be the link between them?
Is she a victim or a co-conspirator?
Most importantly, has she seen him?
Does she know how he looks?
That's the biggest question I have.
How does Hernan Romero look?
All I've got to know until now is that he has green eyes, a scar on his face, probably a man in his thirties, slightly shorter than me, an Italian with black hair.
Although my sisters have seen him when they were kidnapped, I cannot ask them to relive the trauma just to get a sketch drawn.
And whenever he deals with someone in my organization, he talks directly to them and avoids being seen by the others in that warehouse.
Some of the spies I planted in every warehouse have seen his assistant and other members of his short group, but have never directly seen him.
Also, whenever he gets cornered, he kills his own subordinates to create a distraction and an opening to escape.
A cowardly opportunist in true sense, but an intelligent one nonetheless.
But, that's what's making me wonder.
What does a businesswoman have anything to do with a man of that sort?
"Are you going to continue staring or do you have any intention of eating?", her sharp voice grabbed my attention.
I need to find answers once I return home.
Thinking that, I pulled the closest plate towards me and started eating, picking up the spoon and fork in my hands.
"YOU .... are you .. ugh", she muttered, displeased.
I looked up from the plate and towards her, raising a brow.
"You're eating my food.", she stated, pursing her lips, giving me a displeased gaze.
I looked down at my plate and then back at hers.
"Why would you order two plates of the same dish for yourself?", I asked, confused.
"That's my wish!", she exclaimed in a low tone.
"There's also two varieties of deserts here.", I pointed out calmly.
"That's for me too.", she said sharply.
I nodded and called for the waitress.
"Yes, sir.", she greeted politely.
"Could you get me another plate of the same dish?", I asked in a neutral tone.
"Sure, sir.", she smiled and walked away.
I looked back at Ms. Baker.
"You want me to wait until it comes?", she asked dryly.
"I already ate from this plate. If it doesn't bother you, you can have it back.", I said, my tone subtly lacing with a mocking challenge.
"You're childish.", she muttered, sneering in contempt.
"More childish than the woman who deliberately hid the black t-shirt and placed the old faded shirt in front of my door?", I retorted.
Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock.
"You knew?", she asked, stunned.
"I could hear your conversation with the lady.", I replied stoically.
"You eavesdropped.", she commented tersely.
"I overheard.", I corrected.
"That shirt wouldn't have fitted you anyway. So, I removed it.", she cleared her throat, speaking nonchalantly.
"How do you know that? Have you checked me out that keenly?", I raised a brow, my lips faintly curving up into a subtle smirk.
"What? No way!", she said immediately, her eyes wide in bewilderment, brows furrowed together.
"Your tone sure sounds guilty and defensive.", I stated, leaning back leisurely.
"I'm not getting defensive, stop assuming.", she said sternly.
"Why else didn't you clarify when that lady called me your 'husband' and not 'fiancé'?", I asked calmly.
"What ... that's because -", she was saying, but I cut her off.
"Because you liked it when she called me your 'husband'?", I questioned, my tone calm yet slightly provoking.
"You wish!", she retorted, scoffing.
"No, I do not wish to be your husband.", I provoked deliberately.
"As if you can be! Good that you know your place and are not dreaming for the impossible.", she commented haughtily, contempt underlying her tone.
"Rest assured, I never dream below my standards.", I retorted, looking at her.
"Thank goodness, I'm not part of your standard. That would've been so humiliating.", she scorned, mocking my standards.
I had to purse my lips to prevent the chuckle that bubbled within.
The woman sure knows how to return a jab for a jab .
Breaking the argument, the waitress came back with the ordered dish and placed it on the table. Wishing us politely, she walked away.
Throwing a huff at me, Ms. Baker grabbed the new plate and continued eating, ignoring me altogether.
All the people I've met try their best to stay away from me or even if they are in my presence, they talk only when asked to, out of fear and caution.
However, the woman in front of me either has no sense of danger or is inherently fearless.
I don't know which one she is, but arguing with her lightens my mood, pushing aside the heavy troubles that occupy my mind, and her retorts fuel a strange sense of competition in me to provoke her further.
It is strange indeed.
Maybe, that's what having a friend feels like.
My cousin, Aurelio, teases and provokes me too, but this woman ........ She's different.
I cannot specifically pinpoint how.
Yet, as amusing as her company is, she is suspicious and I cannot let the thought slide.
I need to run a background check on Raelynn Baker.
~*~
RAELYNN
I was engrossed in the taste invading my taste buds as I devoured the brunch I ordered for myself.
If this gray-eyed man hadn't ruined my mood a little, it would've been even better.
His question, however, still lingered in my mind.
"Do you know Hernan Romero?"
The question caught me off-guard and the name he mentioned made my heart skip a few beats.
Romero
I didn't know if Mr. Marino was talking about the same person from my past, as there could be hundreds of men with the last name 'Romero'.
But, just hearing that name after so long felt like a sudden jolt.
Although I felt anxious tremors run through me, I tried my best to act nonchalant.
I don't know if he believed me, but I'm grateful for him for not pursuing the topic further.
That name is the biggest trigger to one of my most vulnerable and dreadful memories.
It reminds me of her.
Ruby
She is someone I neither want to remember nor want to forget.
The brief silence that prevailed after my reply was pushing me towards the agonizing memories of her, but I was trying my best to block them and not give away any vulnerability on my face.
I could feel his gaze still concentrated on me and hence I decided to speak up.
Slowly, the conversation turned into bickering, successfully diverting my mind from the heavy thoughts that were too eager to invade the little peace I have.
Fighting with him over something as insignificant as food lightened my mood, although I hate to admit it.
He's not the first man to provoke me.
But, he's definitely the first one to provoke me over something that's not sexually suggestive and vulgarly humiliating.
The numerous times we've argued until now, never has he ever made a sexual remark.
That doesn't mean I trust him or that my suspicion and caution has washed away, but ......
I don't know what to think.
Maybe he really thinks I'm below his standard, considering how enormously rich his family is.
Because, nothing else adds up.
A man from the mafia not being an objectifying pervert is hard to fathom.
Tsk.
Why even am I bothering to think about him?
I don't even need to have any impression of him. All we do is business anyway.
I looked up at him as he cleared his throat.
"Excuse me.", he said, standing up.
He walked towards the restrooms, while I continued eating.
Maybe I -
WAIT.
Sarah!
Oh lord!
How could I forget our meeting?
We scheduled it for today.
I need to send an email, informing her not to go to that cafe I mentioned.
I hope she's not already there, waiting for me to show up.
I rubbed my forehead, stressed.
I had been a little nervous about meeting her and I am somewhere in the corner of my heart relieved that I got to skip it somehow, but I don't want her to wait for me.
I should send her an email as soon as possible.
"Hey", I heard a man's voice, startling me a little.
I looked up from my plate and found a man, probably in his late twenties, standing by my table.
"Can I sit here?", he asked with a smug grin, gesturing to the seat opposite to mine.
"No.", I replied curtly.
He chuckled and sat down anyway.
"I have never seen you around here before. I would've definitely remembered a beauty like yours.", he said, smirking foolishly.
That's the worst pick-up line I have ever heard.
"But I would definitely forget a mediocre cheesy flirt like you.", I retorted, leaning back on my chair leisurely.
He laughed, shaking his head.
Does he have no self respect?
"Playing hard to get, I see.", he commented smugly.
I rolled my eyes internally.
"Excuse me, could you bring my bill please?", I asked the waitress, ignoring this useless trash.
"I own this diner.", he said casually.
I looked at him blankly.
"I own many other stores in this town. My dad's the mayor, you know?", he asked arrogantly.
"I don't care.", I said in a bored tone.
Interrupting the irritating conversation, the waitress came back with the bill.
I placed the amount with some tip and got up, ready to leave.
"I could give you a tour in my Mercedes and maybe take you somewhere interesting.", he suggested, boasting shamelessly.
I halted for a moment just as I stood up and looked at him.
"Ooo, is it? Too bad though, I am not into boys, I prefer men.", I taunted, smiling contemptuously at him.
The waitress who had just come there to clear the table coughed a little, covering up her laughter at the blatant insult.
His face contorted into an angry scowl which I ignored as I would ignore a fly.
I was walking away, past him, but in my peripheral view I saw his hand lifting up, extending towards me to hold mine.
But before I could dodge it, his hand was halted midair by someone holding his wrist, a muscled forearm coming into view.
I turned around and came face to face with Mr. Marino.
"Who the f**k are you-", the foolish bast**d was saying, but Mr. Marino cut him off.
"Don't touch my wife.", he said in a deceptively calm tone, an underlying warning evidently striking the air.
My brows shot up in surprise, a strange shiver passing down my spine.
The flirt gulped a little, struggling to free his hand.
"Wife? You're married?", he asked, looking at me with a scrunched nose.
"None of your business.", I muttered flatly.
"She was the one who led me on.", he accused, looking around as people in the diner started whispering about him.
Before I could retort, I heard a mild cracking sound followed by a loud pained whimper.
"It's not commendable to throw false allegations.", Mr. Marino said calmly, holding the guy's wrist in a slightly distorted angle.
Did he just twist the bone?
"S-Sorry.", the stupid flirt apologized in a cracked tone.
So much for his spoiled arrogance.
I rolled my eyes.
Mr. Marino let go of his hand and looked at me, gesturing to me to follow him.
Ignoring the stares and whispers, I followed him out of the diner.
He continued walking, taking the route back to the farm.
I jogged a little to keep up to his pace and was now walking side by side.
After a few moments of silence, I broke it.
"Don't touch my wife.", I imitated in a bold tone.
He looked at me sideways, his gaze stoic yet flat.
I looked away casually, stifling my laugh.
"You were mocking me before, but it seems like you enjoyed calling me your wife.", I smirked haughtily.
He halted abruptly and looked right at me, halting me in my tracks too.
"I did like calling you 'my wife'.", he said calmly, looking me in the eyes.
My eyes widened as my lips parted in a gasp, stunned at the sudden confession.
"You're blushing.", he commented, still staring at me calmly.
My hands shot up to my cheeks immediately.
"What? No way!", I exclaimed.
He raised a brow, his lips very faintly curving up at the corners, his gray eyes glinting, looking down at me leisurely, as if mocking me for believing his lie.
UGH.
"Stupid, arrogant, perverted scum!", I cursed, gritting my teeth, pointing my index finger at him in anger.
In a split second, his hand rose up and held my wrist, twirling me around a little, twisting my arm behind my back and holding the other arm in his single palm, his arm positioned as if encircling my waist, my chest dangerously close to his right shoulder, completely defenseless as both my hands were in his clutch.
"You should really work on that foul language, Ms. Baker, or one of these days, I might draw out your blood.", he commented in a low tone, leaning his head down a little, now just a few meters away from my forehead, his eyes piercing mine.
"I will not back off without dragging your blood out if the situation ever arises, Mr. Marino.", I gritted in a whisper, glaring back into his eyes.
"You're foolish.", he commented bluntly.
I clenched my jaw, offended.
"Leave my hand.", I said calmly.
"Apologize first.", he demanded stoically.
"Over my dead body!", I scoffed.
"Careful what you wish for. You've already seen real dead bodies in the forest, haven't you?", he asked, his tone a clear threat.
"So, now you're threatening to kill me?", I asked angrily.
"I'm just stating a fact.", his tone a promise.
"F**k yo-", I was going to curse him, but he cut me off by jerking me closer to him, my chest colliding with the right side of his.
"Don't dare complete that statement.", he said in a deceptively calm voice, his cold tone sending a chill down my spine.
Our faces were now too close, his minty breath colliding with my forehead, my own breath skipping a little as his natural scent mixed with that of soap invaded my nostrils, my brain conscious of the area where our bodies were touching, our eyes fighting for dominance.
"Young couples these days.", I heard a passerby comment, giggling.
Realizing we were in the middle of a street, I looked away from his eyes.
"L-Let go.", I gulped slightly, lowering my head a little.
He let go of my wrists abruptly and I lost my balance at the sudden lack of support and fell onto his chest, my palm fisting his shirt for support and my cheek grazed against his bare chest between his unbuttoned top part.
He held my elbow to support my balance and I immediately moved away, standing properly, stepping back a little from him.
"We should get going.", he cleared his throat awkwardly.
I hummed in response as my whole skin was on alert with goosebumps spreading across.
What in the world was that!!!
I could almost hear my heartbeats over my face.
Did I go mad?
Why's my heart racing?
Maybe it's from the trauma response.
Yes, that's it. It's the trauma response.
We walked in tense silence for a long time, none of us looking at each other, none of us making a single sound and both of us walking side by side with a considerably good distance between us.
As we finally reached the two-storied building we had spent the previous night in, I heard a baby wailing loudly.
What's going on?
As we walked into the compound, I found Leah standing in front of the door, holding a wailing toddler in her arms, bouncing him continuously as noises came through from inside the house.
Frowning, I walked to her.
"What happened?", I asked, looking at her and the baby.
"Mrs. Ward is down with a fever and this kid's not stopping crying. Everyone is busy aiding her. Nancy and Mia have gone to get the medicines along with my dad. Mom and grandpa are by Mrs. Ward's side, trying to make her eat something.", she said, worried sick.
"Who's this baby?", I asked, confused.
"Mrs. Ward's great grandson.", she replied.
"Where are his parents?", I couldn't help but frown.
Leah froze for a moment before answering.
"His mom passed away 2 months ago and his father ....... we don't know who's the father.", she answered hesitantly.
I didn't probe further, but I looked at the crying baby.
His face was completely red and tears leaked through his clenched eyes continuously.
"Raelynn, can you please help? Can you hold him? I don't know what to do. I'm scared. I-I", she fumbled, her voice cracking, breathing heavily.
Out of concern, I extended my hand to take the baby, but halted.
No, he's too small.
I don't think I can handle him.
What if I don't hold him properly?
I-
My frantic fears came to a pause as Mr. Marino approached us.
"Can I hold him for a moment?", he asked calmly.
I looked at him with furrowed brows and so did Leah.
"Give him to me.", Mr. Marino said firmly.
Leah looked at me and I nodded hesitantly.
She then looked back at Mr. Marino and slowly handed the squirming baby to him.
He held him delicately against his chest, rubbing the baby's back slowly, walking away from the noisy house.
I followed behind him along with Leah.
The baby continued crying, but with time, his wails watered down to sniffles and finally down to hiccups and Mr. Marino walked around with him pressed to his chest, gently rubbing the baby's tiny back.
I stood there, looking at that peaceful sight, my gaze following the tender movements of him while he was skillfully handling the toddler.
I walked to them and he stopped, still rubbing the baby's back.
I looked at the baby whose big eyes were now wide open, his tiny fist clutching on to Mr. Marino's shirt, his head leaned against his broad chest, lips puckered out adorably.
Green.
The color of his eyes.
I smiled at him softly and he stared at me innocently, making me chuckle.
"He calmed down.", Leah muttered, surprised.
"He must have felt agitated from the noise.", Mr. Marino said, looking at us.
I nodded.
Leah moved forward to take the kid back, but the moment she tried to hold him, he whined, his beautiful green eyes brimming with tears, pressing himself hard against Mr. Marino's chest, refusing to part from him.
I laughed lightly.
When I looked up at Mr. Marino, I found him looking down at the kid with a calm gaze, but his hand was protectively holding him in place, his countenance almost defensive.
I felt a strange warmness fill my heart as I looked at him holding someone else's baby so protectively.
It almost felt as if a father was holding his kid.
As a soft smile curved up my lips at the sight, only one question lingered in my mind,
Have I been too wrong about Vincent Marino?
*************************************************************************************
Phew! That was a long chapter!
How was the chapter?
Ahem, Vince and Rae got a little steamy in the middle of a street. 😳
Well, well, well, someone's impression is wavering. 😏
Vince in dad mode. 😍
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Author.