The Taste of Revenge

The Taste of Revenge War of Sins Book One Veronica Lancet Copyright © 2023 by Veronica Lancet Previously published as part of War Unfinished. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Created with Vellum For everyone who loves the misunderstood, morally gray character. He’s a psychotic murderer, but hey, he’s hot. Contents Preface Chapter 1 Noelle Chapter 2 Rafaelo Chapter 3 Rafaelo Chapter 4 Noelle Chapter 5 Rafaelo Chapter 6 Rafaelo Chapter 7 Noelle Chapter 8 Rafaelo Chapter 9 Noelle Chapter 10 Noelle Chapter 11 Michele Chapter 12 Rafaelo Chapter 13 Rafaelo Chapter 14 Rafaelo Chapter 15 Michele Chapter 16 Michele Chapter 17 Rafaelo Chapter 18 Noelle Chapter 19 Noelle Chapter 20 Noelle Chapter 21 Noelle Chapter 22 Noelle Chapter 23 Rafaelo Chapter 24 Rafaelo Chapter 25 Rafaelo Chapter 26 Rafaelo Chapter 27 Noelle Chapter 28 Noelle Chapter 29 Noelle Chapter 30 Rafaelo Preface This series is dark. It’s VERY dark. No one is a good guy. Some characters may be irredeemable. Please only read if you are comfortable with the following triggers. The books in the series will get progressively darker. Trigger Warnings: abuse, attempted rape, blood (gore), blood play, death, derogatory terms, death, drugs, guns, graphic violence, graphic sexual situations, depictions of torture, gaslighting, grooming, homophobia, incestuous situations, infertility, kidnapping, knife play, murder, mental illness, non-con/dubcon, substance abuse, mentions of suicide. Chapter One Noelle "I'm sorry about the inconvenience, officer," my brother tries to reason with the men who'd arrested me, probably bribing them in exchange for letting me go. I turn my gaze to the floor, digging the heel of my shoe into the dirty road and watching how a few ants surge out of the earth and scramble around my foot. I hum a quiet melody as I keep my eyes on them, ignoring my brother and the soon departing police cars. "You really went and did it this time, Noelle," he says, exasperated, as he reaches my side. "For God's sake, you could have killed yourself. You don't even know how to drive!" I raise my head to look at him, blinking. Once. Twice. Then I resume my ant watching. "Noelle!" He snaps, grabbing my hand and urging me to pay attention to him. "Goddamn it, this is not what I signed up for," he mumbles under his breath. My fists clench by my side, my lips curling in annoyance. Of course it's not what he signed up for. It never is. "What do you want?" I finally ask, narrowing my eyes at him. My throat is sore as I say the words, my voice that harsh sound that I'll never get used to. And it's all his fault. "You promised mother you'd behave." I shrug. "Noelle, I can't help you if you don't help yourself." "Who asked you?" I ask, my words bitter. "Go back to your wife and leave me alone. It's the least you can do." I grit my teeth, stopping myself from hurling all the insults crossing my mind. "That's exactly the issue. I can't leave you alone," he sighs, leaning back and placing his hands in his pockets. "Mother can't deal with you anymore, and you can't be left to your own devices. Clearly," he mutters drily as his gaze moves past me to the car currently stuck in a ditch. "I'm twenty-two. I'm an adult." My eyes flash at him in protest. "You might be an adult, but your medical file says you need supervision." It takes everything in me not to start screaming at him at the mention of the medical file. Of course he'd hold that over my head, as if he weren't the main culprit behind my condition. "Whatever," I keep my tone in check. "Take me home." I turn on my heel, going to the car he'd parked on the other side of the road. "Noelle," he calls out, but I don't listen. I just continue walking, sliding into the passenger seat and waiting for him to take me home. After all, there's nothing to be said between the two of us. Not that there ever was. "Damn it," he curses as he settles into the driver's seat, buckling his seatbelt and resting his hands on top of the wheel. "Some things need to change, Noelle. I can't gallivant around the city to get you out of every trouble you get yourself into." "No one asked you,” I simply reply, my gaze distant. "So that's it. You want to go to jail?" "At least in jail I'll be my own person," I shrug. "Fucking hell," he groans. "You know you're not well. You know that, and you still pull stunts like this?" He shakes his head at me, his features filled with disappointment. Once upon a time, I might have cared. Not now. Not after everything that's happened. I shrug. "And whose fault is that?" I throw the jibe at him, reveling on the inside at the way he blanches, his lips pursed, his entire countenance changed. I know he feels guilty. And that's even worse. Because he'd known what he was doing to me, but he'd done it anyway. For his fucking selfish reasons. Since I'd returned, he'd never even asked me what happened to me, because if he knew—if he really knew—then he wouldn't be able to still look me in the eye, or demand anything of me. But that's just the thing. No one asked me. Everyone circles around the issue, knowing that something's wrong, but not wanting to know exactly what. He doesn't reply as he clenches his hands over the wheel, steering the car on the road and doing his best not to explode on me. His body language tells me he's barely holding himself together and an instinctual sliver of fear goes