Revenge in Rio

by Samantha Darling

  Hell, it isn’t sweet, but I am seeing it to the end.

  “All of this—the last four weeks, it’s all been for nothing...just for vengeance?” Daniella frowned as she calmly spoke each word, her gaze not shifting from him.

  Luca stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets and shrugged in a nonchalant fashion. “Simple as that.”

  She bit down on her lip and a light frown creased her forehead. “Revenge for what? Me leaving you and marrying Miguel?”

  Damn it. That hurt.

  “Naturally.” Slowly he clapped his hands together three times to applaud her quick understanding.

  She blinked and replied calmly. “You don’t need to worry. I will be gone in ten minutes.” Daniella held the sheet with a white-knuckled grasp as she turned her back and made for the doorway. “Miguel was right about you after all.”

  He barely heard her words as she reached for the door handle.

  “What did you say?”

  She twisted the knob and pulled the heavy oak door back on its hinges. “He hated you. He always said you were nothing but poison, and now I’m starting to believe it.”

  Daniella’s words cut through him like a knife, twisting and turning deep inside of his chest. She didn’t face him and kept her gaze fixed on the door handle.

  He knew his brother wasn’t his biggest fan, they’d never seen eye-to-eye, even as young children, but hate? Miguel had hated his own flesh and blood?

  Times had been hard whilst they were growing up; both had craved further attention from their parents. When they had passed away, Luca had been the sole caregiver for Miguel and the pair had started to fall deeper into crime and gang life. By the age of fifteen, Luca led a local gang, with his young brother following in his footsteps.

  He’d always noticed how much anger Miguel had inside him—it almost powered him through life. He’d thrived on fights and violence and often instigated it. Luca knew he had failed his sibling and should have provided a better upbringing for him, but he had tried his hardest to keep him fed and as safe as possible. One positive aspect of the gang was that they looked out for their own.

  Several years later, he’d extended his hand to help Miguel leave the Rocinha only to be hurled abuse and shunned. But none of this explained Miguel’s bitter hatred for him. He couldn’t believe that. As much as he disliked his brother at times, Luca couldn’t hate him.

  The only person Luca hated was standing in front of him. Daniella was the one who had caused this trouble. She had chosen to leave him and entice his brother. She had brought this all upon herself.

  “I can’t believe I wasted all these years loving you, and for what, your sick games?”

  “You never loved me.” He spat the words at her. It was true, how could she have loved him and then so easily have given him up. He gave her credit for her amateur dramatic skills—she was a believable liar.

  Her footsteps faded as she paced down the hallway toward the guest room, leaving him standing alone.

  * * * *

  Daniella closed the guest bedroom door firmly behind her and slumped against it for support. The bedroom, which had been hers for the last four weeks—her haven—was actually nothing more than Luca’s guest room for his toy. She brought her hand to her mouth to stifle her cry as tears rolled down her cheeks. Her heart was shattering piece by piece like a fine crystal thrown to the ground. Why had he done such a cruel thing? She’d truly believed he still cared for her, genuinely cared for her and her baby, but it had all been a façade.

  Everything had been a lie, a ploy and utterly fake.

  Of course she could have stood and fought her case, poured her heart and the truth out to him, but it wasn’t worth it. He’d made up his mind, had his fun and ended it. Nothing she had to say would change anything now.

  She shook her head and realized she didn’t know him at all. He wasn’t the man she’d loved, the man who had rescued her and held her in his strong, safe arms. Daniella sucked in a deep breath and attempted to compose herself. She wasn’t sure she could stand without the door’s solid support, but forced herself to try. She had to get out of the house now. Right now.

  Dropping the sheet, she let it gather around her ankles as she grabbed the freshly washed underwear that she had arrived in. She stepped into the briefs and hooked the brassiere as quick as she could with trembling hands. The dress she had worn on the day Luca had shown up, hung in the wardrobe, freshly washed and untouched since then. Daniella removed it from the hanger and pulled it over her head. She slipped on her old shoes and took her purse from the bedside dresser. She’d arrived at Luca’s home with nothing but the clothes she’d stood in, and she was sure as hell going to leave the exact same way. She was not going to take a single item with her; everything he’d bought for her was part of his sick plan. It was tainted and worthless.

  She slung her purse over her shoulder and opened the bedroom door. This was it. She would never see him again. Her head was chanting good riddance, but her heart ached. She thought it wasn’t possible to hurt more than she had done five years ago, forced to watch Luca walk away from her as she’d stood obediently beside Miguel. She truly believed it was not possible to hurt beyond the agony she’d felt that day, but this topped that tenfold.

  Her legs shook as she stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The hallway appeared longer than ever and she wondered how she would make it to the end. It now seemed to symbolize a never-ending stretch, like a void into her unknown future. She placed her hand on her stomach and silently promised her baby things would be fine.

  Luca was nowhere to be seen. The click-clack sound of her sandals as she descended the stairs echoed through the still mansion even though she tried to be quiet.

  Luca appeared as she stepped off the last step and leaned against the dining room door frame with his arms folded across his chest. Inches from her, his masculine scent filled her nostrils for the last time.

  She stood nervously fiddling with the clasp of her purse.

  “Here’s your key. Will you please say goodbye to Maria for me?” Daniella placed the silver house key into the center of his extended palm and watched as his long fingers enclosed around it.

  He was calm and composed—and she could barely bring herself to look at his face. She desperately wanted to hate him, hate him more than anything, but instead her heart was just numb. Loosely focusing on the pinhole of his jacket she whispered, “Goodbye, Luca.”

  Daniella turned the handle and stepped out into Rio’s sunlight. Her throat constricted as waves of panic washed over her—she was alone and had no idea where she was heading to, but she was adamant she would manage. She had no choice.

  She had to, for her child’s sake.

  Chapter 12

  Daniella had hailed a passing taxi after finding some change in her purse. She gave the driver the coins and stepped out of the hot vehicle as she looked around her and let a small sigh escape her lips. She was back to her old surroundings.

  Back to square one.

  She’d sworn never to return to the place she’d called home with Miguel, but right now there was no other choice. It was that or the streets, and this was the lesser of two evils. The streets could be a perilous place during daytime, let alone in the shadows of the night.

  Daniella walked through the tangle of alleys and tried to stay under some of the canopies in an attempt to avoid the intense rays. Since the taxi ride, she was sick and exhausted; her heart was broken after all.

  She stopped at a nearby street vendor and handed the correct change in exchange for a bottle of water. A violent combination of nausea and dizziness took over as she stumbled for the support of wall behind her. She sipped at the water and desperately hoped it would cure the unpleasant sick sensation but to no avail.

  Nothing can cure a broken heart, you stupid girl. She stood, shoved the water bottle into her purse, and continued down the narrow street.

  A few blocks deeper into the favela city, she stopped as a
wetness trickled warmly between her thighs, quickly followed by an intense cramp in her lower belly. She rested her hands against the wall for support as she breathed through the sudden pain.

  “No, no, no. Not yet.”

  She was going into premature labor.

  * * * *

  “Make sure the plane is ready. I’m leaving for New York within the hour.”

  Luca pocketed his cellphone and wallet and closed his laptop. It was time to return to New York. His business in Rio was finally finished and there was no further reason to stay there.

  Although he’d treated Daniella as if she was a business matter, his usual satisfaction that came with a business win was missing. He had kept himself busy since she had left by attending to emails, phone calls, and various pieces of paperwork, in an effort to avoid his mind wandering. He expected to feel victorious, content, finally accomplishing his payback, yet inside he was numb and anger consumed him. Slipping the laptop into the carry case, he wished his emotions could be pocketed just as easily.

  The cellphone vibrated against his thigh. Incompetent staff!

  “Yes?”

  “Senhor Venancio, please excuse me for contacting you out of the blue.”

  He removed the cell from his ear and checked the screen. Dr. Menezes’s name and number flashed in front of him and instantly his gut twisted painfully as he raised the phone back to his ear.

  “Doctor?”

  “You must come quickly.”

  The snaking sensation in his stomach tightened further as he heard the urgency in the female doctor’s voice. The baby. His mind raced with questions, was the baby okay? Was Daniella okay?

  “It’s Daniella, she is in labor.”

  “Labor, but she’s…” Luca did a quick mental arithmetic. “She’s four weeks early?”

  “She’s at the posto de saude emergency facility in Rocinha. She’s contracting every ten minutes. You really do not have long if you want to witness the birth of this child, Mr. Venancio.”

  Luca ended the call and pocketed his cellphone for the second time within five minutes. He slumped into the leather office swivel chair and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger with such pressure it hurt.

  He would not allow himself to be drawn into this; he’d finished with her. Finished! She’d made her bed with Miguel and now she could sleep in it. End of the story. He rested his head back, closed his eyes, and tried to forget the doctor’s panicked voice now haunting his mind.

  “Damn it!” He grabbed the arm of the chair.

  Guilt crept up on him, he could almost sense it prowling through his veins and preying on his heart. He couldn’t leave her in pain, alone in a decrepit hospital bed. He still had an obligation to the child and to Miguel. Even if Daniella’s words were true and Miguel hated him, he had loved his younger brother, and now he knew he had to fight for his own flesh and blood.

  His cell vibrated again with the doctor’s name flashing across the screen. Twenty minutes had passed and he was sure the doctor would have expected him to be on his way. He held the cell to his ear and listened as Dr. Menezes explained that Daniella was experiencing some complications.

  “I’m sure she could really do with your support as of now, Mr. Venancio.”

  A click sound filled his ear to signal the doctor had hung up on him.

  He tapped the phone against his lips whilst he considered what to do. After a couple of minutes, he decided to swallow some of his pride and he grabbed a set of keys. His body shuddered with more guilt, what had he done to her? He’d put her and the child at risk, all for the sake of his own petty games.

  Complications. The doctor’s words resonated over in his mind.

  What if— He pushed the sinister thought aside as he slid into his Aston Martin 1-77. It didn’t even bear to think about the consequences he may have to face. Tearing down the driveway, a tornado of dust filled his review mirror as he slammed his foot down harder on the accelerator.

  * * * *

  Luca slammed on the brakes and the Aston Martin came to an abrupt stop outside the hospital. The wheels screeched and skidded against the dusty road. He was back, deep within the favela, and the sticky heat hit his face when he stepped out of the air-conditioned car. He climbed the steps two at a time toward the entrance that led into the stuffy lobby room. It was filled with people, coughing and spluttering, and some clutching at various wounds. He sensed their gaze fall upon him one by one as if summing him up for his inappropriate appearance. Not many people wore expensive suits to a public hospital facility in the heart of Rocinha.

  “Daniella Venancio, I need to see her.” He rested both hands on the small, wooden desk and caught his shaky breath. One small, circulating fan blew into his face and cooled his skin. The heat in the building was unbearable.

  A middle-aged lady shrugged her shoulders and replied, “I’m sorry, you need to take a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

  “But I need to see her now!”

  Her unhelpful manner angered him, but his agitation came more from within. It was his behavior that had put Daniella there. Him. His actions. No one else. The undue stress he’d placed on her over the last four weeks, and especially the last twenty-four hours, had finally taken its toll on her.

  The woman turned her back on him and shuffled through a stack of papers.

  Luca turned and headed toward the main corridor. He wasn’t waiting around to be told when and where he could go. The receptionist called out after him, but he elbowed his way through the set of double doors.

  The corridor was scattered with waiting patients sitting on plastic chairs and lying on stretchers. He cursed Daniella for coming there. Why hadn’t she used the money in the account he’d set up for her weeks ago and admitted herself to the private clinic? He hadn’t demanded the money back this morning, knowing full well she was going to need some financial support over the next few weeks until the child arrived. Although, he was sure she was probably unlikely to use it due to stubbornness.

  Pushing through another door, Luca arrived in a room lined with many hospital beds and further stretchers squeezed around the sides. Some had curtains pulled tightly shut and some remained open. The noise was overwhelming and impacted on his ability to think. Clinical machines beeped methodically, women cried, and men swore as they were stitched up.

  Madre de Dios!

  He scanned the room but didn’t see her.

  “Argh!”

  He turned to face the direction the scream had come from. It was Daniella.

  He quickly moved toward the direction of her voice and pulled back the cotton material of the curtain.

  “I can’t do this, doctor. Please…” Daniella was lying on a simple hospital bed, propped up by a couple of pillows.

  He looked down at her and his heart constricted. Her eyes were wide with fear and her cheeks stained with dried trails of tears. He had no doubt she was petrified and in excruciating pain.

  “Finally!” Doctor Menezes took hold of his forearm, pulling him firmly into the small bay. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

  Luca knew the doctor worked selflessly at the public hospital as a volunteer on days when she wasn’t in her private rooms.

  “What are you doing here?” Daniella cried. “Get out! I said get out!”

  “It’s okay. I called him, Daniella. You need to have somebody here with you,” the doctor attempted to explain.

  “I don’t need anyone, especially not him… Argh!”

  “Remember what I explained to you…deep breaths. That’s it…nice and steady. You’re doing wonderfully.”

  “I have a right to be here. You are bringing my family into this world. Why the hell didn’t you go to the clinic?” Luca stepped closer to the bedside.

  “You don’t have any right. This baby isn’t your family. He or she has nothing to do with you. Doctor, please make him leave. I don’t want him near me.”

  “Senhor Venancio, I asked you here to help. Daniella
is weak and still has a long way to go, please do not agitate my patient.”

  He sucked in a sharp breath and reached for her hand.

  “She collapsed three blocks away. Street vendors brought her here. Her labor has happened very quickly…too quickly. She most likely had no time to think about what to do, let alone which hospital to attend,” Doctor Menezes whispered into Luca’s ear.

  He cursed himself. The guilt finally captured his heart and devoured it with an aching pull.

  “I said don’t touch me… Oh God—”

  She held tightly on to Luca’s hand and crushed his fingers together.

  “That’s it, Daniella, breathe nice and slow…in through the nose and out through the mouth. Wonderful.” Dr. Menezes’s voice was soothing and reassuring, even to Luca’s ear.

  “I don’t want you here,” she cried through the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  “I’m here for Miguel and the baby’s sake, and you do need me right now.”

  “Miguel? Miguel deserves nothing from you. He hated you. He wanted you dead.”

  Luca looked at the IV drip and asked the doctor, “What medication have you got her on exactly?” His voice was stern. He did not like to hear his brother and family name slighted.

  “It’s just IV fluids. We cannot stock many strong painkillers here because of break-ins.” The doctor frowned.

  Luca attempted to process Daniella’s words. Hate. Dead.

  “You’re in a lot of pain. You don’t know what you are talking about. Please stop these ridiculous lies and save your energy.”

  She snatched her hand away from his grip and shook her head from side to side. “They’re not lies.”

  Luca swallowed. A small part of him wanted to hear what she had to say—to play at her own game. “Fine, tell me everything I need to know about my brother. Get it out of your system.” He drew a nearby chair close to the bed.

  “You wouldn’t believe me.” Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke.