Chapter 6 Bernice Revenge

The honeymoon had barely worked for Bernice. Rafael and I had been gone only a week, whisked to the Amalfi Coast, with citrus floating in the air, waves setting against the cliffs playing melodies. That was until his empire called him back home. Who was she to argue with a man who gave her everything and more than she could ask for? They pulled into the mansion, hardly the sun over the horizon. A warm dawn greeted them back in Rome. Bernice hardly slept during the flight, the previous night as the quiver had run all through the night. Rafael's hand found Bernice as they strolled around the long driveway. "I have something special for you, my love," Rafael murmured, sudden softness in his voice that shocked her to the core against all expectations. She turned to him with a sleepy smile. "You've already given me so much more than I ever could have asked for, Raf." He laughed softly. "And yet… I did promise you a car, didn't I? And I always keep to my word. Yes, you do, Always. Bernice said smiling. That was what made her revenge more sweet. When they stepped out of the jalopy, Ethan was already waiting by the entrance, a picture of subdued rage plastered on his face, the moment Bernice's eyes met with his. Though she couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at her lips. Poor Ethan watched how the woman he used and threw away like a rag doll, was wrapped around his uncle's arms. He must be dying inside now. "I had the car delivered this morning," Rafael prattled on, still unaware of the erupting volcano which was his nephew. Ethan, the keys, please." Ethan tensed but handed the keys to a sexy, jet-black Maserati parked in the house. The car was like an art piece—full of sleek curves and muscle—and just perfect for the part Bernice was playing. "'Oh, Rafael!' Bernice gasped, allowing real awe to colocolourvoice. 'It's beautiful!' "'I'm so glad you like it,' he said, pressing the keys into her hand. That's not all." She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Oh really?" He handed her a black card; the weight sat heavy in her palm. "Go shopping, get whatever you want, and make sure you come back before dark. I've got a meeting with some clients this evening, but I want to spend time with you after." With that mix of loathing and frustration simmering in Ethan’s eyes, it felt like he could burn her skin with just his gaze. He was an open book, his emotions practically painted across his face like some bad poker player. It was almost too easy to bait him. "Thanks, Raf" Bernice murmured and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Dragging it out enough over the skin that she could feel Ethan squirm. "You spoil me too much. "It's okay," Rafael replied, waving a hand in dismissal of her thanks. "You deserve it all." And there it was—the perfect moment to twist the knife. "Oh, Ethan," Bernice turned to him with an innocent smile. "You're so familiar with Rome; now you can take me on drives, for I should adore that, and I'm sure you'll be able to show me all the best shops in town." Ethan's jaw clenched so hard she could almost hear the grind of his teeth. He shot a quick, pleading glance at Rafael, but her husband was already turning away, dismissing any protest before it could form. "Of course," Ethan muttered, his tone too tight. "Whatever you want." "Good boy," Bernice said, letting her tone run a shade too condescending to make his eyes flash. "Shall we go then? I don't want to lose another minute." Ethan and Bernice left Rafael in his mansion, and when they got inside the car, something shifted within them. The air compacted into a heavy mass of tension. She felt absolutely nothing that resembled mercy. It was to be the day she had been waiting for—the day she was going to make Ethan feel as small as he made her feel. Ethan drove in silence, knuckles almost white as he gripped the steering wheel. Bernice sank back into the seat, in absolute bliss from the richness of the Maserati ride and loving the long silence between them. It wasn't until they parked beside the first high-end boutique that Bernice decided to talk to him. "Park," she said, "and don't trouble yourself to walk me inside. Just wait outside by the car like a good little servant.". He had to turn a glance at her in the rearview mirror; anger simmered from his eyes almost through. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Ethan said to Bernice. She decided to see his glance without blinking and said, "More than you'll ever know." It was now silent; there was no need to speak further. She opened the car door and stepped out, leaving him to stew in his frustration. This was everything Bernice had envisioned a boutique to be, exclusive, luxurious, and filled with things that would have been, before she married Rafael, way beyond her means. spent that entire afternoon trying on outfits she did not need and purchasing shoes she would never wear—all inside their boxes—of course, everything was with Rafael's card. She got back into the car, and Ethan seemed ready to fall apart. "Via Condotti," she stated definitively. "I'm not nearly finished.". The drive was way too short, after which there was complete silence. She could feel Ethan's eyes on her in the mirror, mixed with his rising anger, feelings of regret, and maybe a speck of fear. Maybe that was the first time he realized he lost hold of his doll, and I no longer remained a clueless girl who would hop onto his strings for him. And it felt so good. At each stop, they repeated the cycle: Bernice shopped sometimes for hours, as Ethan waited dutifully outside like a good dog. Soon enough, the Maserati trunk was filled with big bags from every designer store in Rome. It was excessive, indulging, but that was the point. To rub it in Ethan's face and to show him just how far she has come. On her way back with him to the mansion, she decided it was time for the final twist. "Ethan," she started with the sweet-talking. "I have this thought ringing in my mind. I need to learn how to drive, so I can take this baby anywhere I want ." He looked at her through the mirror, totally puzzled. "You don't know how to drive at all?" "No," she said, batting her eyelids at him. "But I want you to teach me. And you have nothing else to do, do you? His face must have paled, seeing the implications of what she was asking of him hitting him so suddenly and hard. I wanted him to spend every day with me, at my beck and call, just to watch me live the life that he could never have. There was nothing he could do about it. He rumbled low, a hair's breadth from a tortured whisper, "You want me to teach you how to…?" "Of course," she replied, grinning wider still. "Unless you have an issue with that." He swallowed convulsively, wringing at the steering wheel in his hands. "No… no issue." "Good." She settled back in her seat at ease. "We'll start tomorrow.” He didn't say a word the rest of the drive. Rafael was waiting for us up the front steps of the mansion. He had his warm and tender smile on as the car approached the house. Ethan parked, and Bernice lost no time stepping out, ready to play the part of the adoring wife again. Rafael opened his arms and she walked into them, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Did you have a good day, Mi Amor?" he asked, not loosening the hold in the slightest. "I did," she answered, smiling back up to him. "Thank you so much for the car. It's perfect. "I'm relieved." He muttered, his hand so gentle in her hair. "And I'm happy to see you back home. I missed you." It seemed so real, just then, his words, his touch, she almost felt guilty for the game she was playing. "Rafael," Bernice said, drawing back just a little to look into his eyes. "There's one more thing." He cocked an eyebrow, curious. "Okk?" "I've asked Ethan to teach me how to drive," she said only a little casually. "Since I want to learn how to handle the car myself." Surprised, Rafael's features didn't carry a trace of suspicion. "That's a great idea. For sure, Ethan will be glad to help out." Ethan was a few feet back and looked at the picture of wanting to be anywhere but. His expression was neutrally blank, but something in his stance held the tension of anger thinly veneered. "Of course," he said tightly. "I'd be delighted to help," Ethan said with a fake smile. "Good," Bernice said sweetly, returning his smile. "We'll begin the first thing tomorrow…" Rafael looks from one person to the other. The next thing he did was to pull Bernice into another hug, pressing his lips right against her ear. "I love you, Bernice," he murmurs. "I love you, too," she replies, but the words leave a bitter taste in her mouth. And best of all, with Ethan mere steps behind them, everything fell into place. She had Rafael eating out of the palm of her hand, Ethan bending beneath her heel, and this was precisely the life that she had always wanted all along. Yet, in that glass reflection, she met with Ethan's eyes: The echo of pure hate in his eyes, black holes of anger and resentment. It was only starting—the game was on, and she would succeed at it. By any means, she would get her revenge.