Revenge in Rio Read online

  “You don’t think I at least deserve an explanation? Some minor clarification as to why you just left me in the dark?” Luca stared at her intently and she opened and then quickly closed her mouth again, biting down on her bottom lip until it darkened to a deeper tone of pink.

  He kept his eyes on her, not even blinking, as he looked her up and down. She was a shadow of the vibrant girl he remembered; the Daniella he had known five years ago. Sitting beside him now she was scared, the fear was wild in her eyes, and she was clearly malnourished, evident from the black sack of a dress, which hung off her delicate frame.

  “When did you last eat something?” It was more of a demand than a question.

  “Excuse me?” He finally had her attention.

  “You heard me. When did you last eat something?”

  “That’s none of your business.” She pulled the cardigan tighter around her midriff and turned away from him.

  “I’m concerned. You look ill.”

  “Well, I’m not. I’m…I’m…” He watched as she stumbled for her words. “I’m just grieving, okay?”

  Fair enough, she may have been grieving for the last twenty-four hours. It was bound to have been a grueling short space of time for her to comprehend Miguel’s death and have the customary quick funeral. But what about before Miguel’s death? The circles under her eyes and fading blue marks across her jaw were old; her skin and hair were dull and lifeless and told a story. They sat in silence as the chauffeur strategically maneuvered the Bentley through the favela’s never-ending maze of winding roads, passing makeshift house upon house, small street markets, and gangs on each corner. Luca’s eyes fixed on the house in front of them when the car eased to a halt a few meters away from their destination, and he recognized it instantly as his childhood home.

  Reaching for the door, Daniella pulled on it a couple of times before he pressed the central locking release.

  She looked over her shoulder and whispered, “You really have to go now.”

  He had given in far too easily years ago, this time he was a different man; a man who always got what he wanted, however cruel and ruthless he had to be. He had to remember that. Love had left him weak and feeble. It had taken time to gather himself and learn to never let emotions take over. Work was his haven, a place for him to focus and throw himself and his energy into. He would prove to Daniella that she had made the wrong choice.

  Placing a hand on her shoulder, Luca’s fingers brushed against her dark curls and the nape of her neck. “I’m not going anywhere this time.” He leaned closer, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “I’ve come for something and I intend to get it.”

  Chapter 2

  Daniella could feel the prying gaze of the neighbors as she reached into her purse for the keys. Ladies and children standing on their doorsteps, whispering and pointing; men conversing on the pathway, some with weapons obviously on display for a reaction.

  Her hand trembled as she fumbled to position the key in the lock before she dropped them on the cement step outside of the front door.

  “Damn,” she cursed.

  “Here,” offered Luca, gently taking the keys from her quivering hand. “Let me.”

  “You really shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, holding her head low and avoiding the intense stares. She knew Miguel’s cronies would be there soon and Luca’s life was in potential danger. Why wouldn’t he just leave?

  He pushed open the wooden door and extended his arm. “After you.”

  She looked at his face for a brief moment, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t allow herself to fall into those dark, enticing pools. Silently, she pleaded with him to leave. If only he knew how much danger he was putting himself in, how many wounds he was opening up. Yet, selfishly, she’d never been so happy to see him. He raised his eyebrows and nodded toward the entrance, his arm still holding the door open wide.

  Daniella took a deep breath and hurried into the small place she’d called home for the last five years, its dark and oppressive feel ironically welcoming her. For now, it provided a haven away from the gossips and unwanted looks, but she wanted nothing more than to leave it behind. She fastened the lock behind Luca and rested her hands and forehead on the door to steady herself. She was thankful for the solid support against her weary body as the tiredness of her pregnancy washed over her.

  She was coming up to seven months and was sure she was meant to be feeling the ‘healthy glow’ people always spoke about. Her pregnancy barely showed through her baggy clothes. She knew full well she needed to take better care of herself and her baby, but how? Miguel had controlled their finances, usually resulting with him spending the money on his illegal habits. The child, the ‘accident’ as he had so often said, had meant nothing to him. The bruises she wore reflected that, and she knew the fact her baby still lived was a miracle. She reassured herself that Miguel was gone—forever—and they were both now safe.

  “Are you okay?”

  She had to pull herself together, otherwise Luca would start asking questions. More questions than she was prepared for.

  “I’m fine. It’s just been a long…day. I can’t believe that you are here.” She turned to stand in front of him and hesitated before she spoke. She didn’t want to spill too much information.

  “In the flesh. Why don’t you rest? I can prepare you something to eat.” Luca pulled out a chair for her, its legs scraping against the wooden floor.

  Why was he being so friendly, so cooperative?

  Instantly her guard went up. ‘Friendly’ was something she hadn’t encountered for some time. It filled her with anxiety and apprehension, and her stomach somersaulted with a swarm of nervous butterflies.

  Luca’s gaze was fixed on her and appeared to be taking in every inch. She felt vulnerable, exposed, as if she was under a magnifying glass for close scrutiny. Could he see her bump? She panicked and fidgeted to draw his attention away from her body. She ran her fingers through her wet curls and pulled them forward slightly to hide the recent bruise across her jaw. Another product of Miguel’s foul temper.

  “Sit down,” he said.

  His voice made her feel even woozier than pregnancy did. He had an American twang, yet there was no denying that his rich, Brazilian accent had never left him as it flavored his words. Daniella didn’t want to respond to his orders, but she was exhausted and her body betrayed her by taking steps into the kitchenette lounge and sitting down in front of him. She was thankful to finally have the weight off her throbbing, aching feet. She shuffled in the chair and rearranged her cardigan so it covered her small bump.

  Luca looked around the room.

  A day hadn’t passed by where she hadn’t thought of him and how her life could have been so different. She’d prayed every day that he was safe and well, a million miles away from the danger and memories Rio held for him. At night, she would curl into herself and wish his arms were embracing her instead of her own.

  Now, he stood before her and she resisted with all her might the urge to confess how much she loved him and wanted him. She’d always wanted him…just him.

  No. She couldn’t. Luca couldn’t know of the past. She couldn’t let him know what had happened, what she’d done for him. Time had passed and there was no point bringing things up to just cause further heartache.

  Her eyes were on the level with his chest, and she watched him breathe for a few moments. Daniella lifted her head warily and absorbed every detail of his towering physique. She recalled how powerful he was, how well defined his muscles were, and how she’d once traced her fingers over them. She let her gaze linger on his sculptured jaw and mouth, his closely shaven face, and his slightly crooked nose.

  Smaller droplets of rain continued to drip from his sleek, black locks. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through his hair and instead she stood and reached to a nearby cupboard.

  “Here.” She handed him a small towel and took one for herself.

  He took it from her hands, grazing her skin. “Thanks.�
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  Daniella glanced at her arm where he’d briefly brushed against her. An electric sensation radiated throughout her body, and she longed for his touch further. He rubbed the towel over his face and hair, leaving it more relaxed and natural.

  As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes, knowing once she did she would be trapped. Part of her resented him for leaving, although she knew it was completely irrational to feel that way. Luca had left, blissfully unaware of the truth. She had made him leave.

  Standing inches from Luca, so handsome and striking, she was now lost for words. She opened and closed her mouth several times in an attempt to string sentences together, but no sound escaped.

  How could he stand there so effortlessly, so cool? Did he no longer have feelings for her? Was he now married with children? Of course he is. He wasn’t going to wait around for a girl he couldn’t have anymore, especially after the way she’d treated him. Daniella started to panic and regretted taking his offer of a lift home, not that she’d had much choice in the matter.

  Time seemed to slow and pass by in milliseconds as the awkward silence between them stretched on. She could hear the hustle and bustle going on outside on the favela streets; it was amplified against their stillness. An assortment of noises, including Brazilian beats, car horns, and chattering, could be heard through the thin walls of the home.

  Luca leaned in slightly and lifted his hand to her chin.

  “Has a doctor taken a look at your face?” he asked, and stretched forward to inspect the bruise more closely.

  “No. It’s nothing. I don’t need to see a doctor.”

  “It doesn’t look like nothing. You can talk to me.”

  If only he knew.

  “Please, I’m fine,” she begged, holding up a hand to signal an end to his questions.

  His eyebrows drew together and an inquisitive look crossed his face.

  Please, no more questions.

  She watched him back away; his handsome face relaxed and untroubled as the frown lines faded one by one. Her gaze remained on him as he walked about her ‘house in one room’ with hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets, as if he was retracing his childhood steps. She hated the way he commanded the space. It made her feel so insignificant, more than she already did. His height, his poise, his aura, everything seemed to tower over her pointless life.

  No, she cursed herself again shutting her eyes tightly. She couldn’t think that way anymore. She had a reason to live now, and she had to be strong for her baby. Daniella rested her hand on her tummy as if greeting her growing child before quickly removing it, remembering she was in Luca’s company. She certainly didn’t want him knowing about her pregnancy. She was thankful for the loose fitting dress and cardigan that covered the small, still telltale evidence of a baby bump.

  Plucking all of the confidence she could muster within, she folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you here, Luca? What do you want?”

  As Luca replaced an ornament he’d picked up to inspect, Daniella bit her bottom lip. She wondered how he’d known about Miguel, but then remembered his statement: Don’t underestimate me.

  “So, you gave up everything we had…for this? Did he treat you well? Love you?” His eyebrows rose.

  His gaze returned to her, traveling up and down her body as if searching for answers. She couldn’t answer him. His look was so intense, she started to feel as if she was on fire; heat filled her belly and spread up within her. Her chest, her neck, her cheeks, she could feel herself start to flush.

  Deep down inside, she knew the desire she’d had for him years ago was still there. It would always be there. But now, a thousand suppressed emotions had started to re-surface within her and she wasn’t sure how to handle them. She’d been forced to leave Luca, but she could never be made to stop loving him. Needing to break away from his connection, she walked to the kitchen sink, poured a glass of water, and took a couple of long gulps, hoping it would put out the heat consuming her.

  “Why am I here?” He massaged his chin with his thumb and index finger. He had pronounced each word slowly and accurately, his calm tone matching his leisurely, confident steps toward her. “Remember, Rio and this place were my home too. Once.” He continued to inspect photographs and knickknacks, as if placing ownership on the room. “Obviously, I wanted to attend my little brother’s funeral. When I heard the sad news, I wanted to pay my respects, as you can only imagine, I’m sure. We may not have been close, but he was of my blood.” He glanced at her over his shoulder.

  Daniella bit her tongue. He was right. It had been his home, long before it was hers. He had been born in this house and had spent his childhood here, along with Miguel and their parents.

  She watched him cast a gaze about the room and prayed to God he wouldn’t see her earlier packed escape suitcase tucked beside the sofa. She had no idea where she was going to go, with such little money in her pocket it would be impossible for her to go far. Her birthplace of New York was out of the question, for now. She knew he would try and stop her leaving, and God forbid, if he knew about the baby, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Family and obligation was important to him, it always had been. Daniella had never understood why he had tried so hard to hold on to family connections, on to his younger brother. The endless times Luca had tried to help Miguel out of trouble, to just be pushed away repeatedly had broken Daniella’s heart. Having both his parents and now his brother deceased, she and the child were pretty much all he had left to call family. They were the same; alone in the world with no family around them, apart from each other.

  “How did you find out about Miguel?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “Your brother was involved in a lot of terrible things, Luca.” There was a long pause, and she took another deep breath, composed her wavering voice, and continued. “This…well, this was just a matter of time. You, of all people, shouldn’t be surprised by it. You’ve paid your respects, you can leave now.”

  “Hmm, I could, but like I said, I’ve also come for something else.”

  The ceiling was low and very nearly touching Luca’s head; he looked completely out of place. She glanced over his designer, tailor-made attire and imagined him living amongst opulence and luxury of every kind. He didn’t look like a favela slum boy. She imagined him owning huge, elegantly decorated dining rooms and extravagant four-poster beds, not the four-walled home she resided in.

  She suddenly became aware that his gaze was skimming across her tummy. She couldn’t let him find out about her baby. She wanted…no, she needed to get away from the Venancios and start a new life. Completely. She had to leave all of the heartbreak behind her. She would not allow Luca to take control of her life or that of the child she carried.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Daniella snapped as he opened her kitchen cupboards.

  “You look like a ghost. I understand you’re a grieving widow, but you have to eat something. Miguel would want—”

  “Miguel would want what?” she interrupted, spitting the words at him with venom.

  She looked up and he finally trapped her with his gaze. Those rich, mahogany-colored eyes.

  Oh damn, she cursed silently.

  She couldn’t blink; it was as if he had hypnotized her. Her arms and legs felt like dead weights and her heart was pounding. He reached forward and brushed one of her curls aside. Without hesitation, she let him follow through with his soft and gentle action. Her tense muscles relaxed one by one as warmth and serenity stole over her. His fingers lightly grazed against her skin again, and the small hairs all over her body stood on end and practically begged for further attention. It was a type of touch she’d never received, nor wanted to receive, from Miguel. Daniella shivered as Luca’s hands left her body, and for a brief moment she longed for his touch to last forever.

  “Ah, so you can see me after all,” he drawled, smugness in his tone.

  Her stare back at him was confident,
although her knees were shaking like a timid child. She reminded herself of her current predicament and that she must forget about their history. There was no point torturing herself with the ifs, buts, or maybes. It was a lifetime ago. This was now, and right now she needed to focus on her baby.

  “I merely meant Miguel would want to see you live your life, happy and healthy, wouldn’t he?” She sensed a hint of sensitivity in his voice.

  Unable to hold back she let out a cold, sarcastic laugh. Luca couldn’t have been further from the truth if he’d tried. She desperately wanted to tell him how his brother had treated her and that she had prayed for this day. The warmth and calmness disappeared instantly as her self-preservation and self-protection kicked in.

  “Something’s funny?” Luca quizzed her.

  Daniella tried to hold her temper. Control was so important; it was all she had left now and she had to hold onto it. This was her opportunity for a fresh start. Alone. She simply needed to ‘act’ the grieving widow for a few more minutes and then Luca would be gone.

  “Are you planning on going somewhere?” He nodded toward the case tucked away neatly beside the sofa.

  Damn! He’d spotted the suitcase, which she now wished she’d taken more care to hide.

  “I was thinking of visiting a friend,” she lied and shrugged.

  “I see. Well, I will give you a ride.”

  “No, it’s fine. I can make my own way.”

  He leaned against the kitchen side and looked at her with his arms folded across his broad chest. The earlier downpour had left them both soaked, and his wet shirt clung to his muscular chest. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, unable to look away.

  “Why don’t you just tell me where you’re going? I want to be able to look out for you now that—”

  “Now that what? Now that I’m alone?” She blinked at him as the nerves took hold once again.

  “Yes. I want to support you. You’re still my family, and this is an extremely difficult time for you. You said so yourself.”