As promised, the second chapter of Sweet Vengeance. You get to know more about Rachel here since you've already know about Quinn in the previous chapter. I don't know if you like it but I hope you do. It kind of take a lot of brainstorming to come up with this. Don't put my effort to waste, alright?

Alright, I'll stop the jibber jabber and just let you read, ponder and enjoy.

She plopped down on the overly soft sofa in the huge living room with a can of beer in hand and also a folder under her armpit. Rachel settled into the most comfortable position possible on sofa and took a sip of the beer. She was determined on plotting everything in every situation possible by the end of the day so there wouldn't be complications when she began to work on those plans. Her goal? Destroy the Hudsons. Even thinking about their name disgusted her.

They were what made her who she was today. She turned to the first page in the folder, consisting details of the Hudson Organization. The edge of her lips turned up into a smile when she read about the Hudson Organization in the most detailed format possible. Puck did a good job on this. Halfway through the documents, she paused and wondered how Puck could manage to dig out so many without killing someone or threatening somebody within the entire structure of the organization.

Just by reading and understanding what Puck had readied for her, she knew how the organization operated on the inside. She knew the outline of the staff's entirety. She understood their way of organizing different business associates into different branches. She knew almost everything. At the end of the document, Rachel Berry was almost like a member of Hudson Organization herself. But regretfully, she still lacked the personal info of each member of the Hudson family.

Puck was working on it.

She removed the folder from her lap and downed the whole can of beer. The burning sensation was something she needed. It reminded her of how they had treated her when they adopted her as a fake child. Her brain practically simmered at the thought of Burt and Carole Hudson. And also their two children Finn Hudson and that filthy bastard of Burt Hudson, Sam Evans.

Being thrown out was the worst feeling she had ever felt inside and she never felt worse ever since. Carole Hudson had adopted her as a pawn. She wanted to use Rachel Berry as bait to gain her husband's trust. She wanted to use Rachel Berry as a temporary replacement of the real daughter Burt Hudson had lost, lure him into thinking that the daughter he had with another woman outside was still alive. And then she had showed Rachel the photo of the woman Burt had an affair with, which Rachel hadn't recognize and as truthful as a child could be, Rachel had revealed she never knew who the woman in the picture was.

She remembered the details of Burt Hudson's wrath after her confession. She remembered the way Carole Hudson had pretended to stop him from hitting her with a three-inch thick cane but snickered secretly. She remembered the two naïve children of theirs laughing at her and encouraging their father to keep on adding more scars onto her body. She remembered how Burt Hudson had dragged her out of the house area by pulling at her hair without mercy and gave her one final slap before he went back inside. And finally, she remembered the smirk his wife had rewarded her behind her husband's back.

Rachel was in a state of utter confusion as she sat outside the Hudson mansion that night. Until later that night when she was hiding behind the bushes on the other side of white picket fence of the mansion, she heard the quiet exchange between that woman and her personal servant, Erika. And Rachel finally understood what actually happened to her.

All this time, Carole had been using her as a tool to convince her husband at the final moment that the child was dead. And of all the ways existed in the world, the bitch had to use the most painful method ever to convince her husband about that fact. In addition, she had shown no mercy to an innocent child who had no knowledge of her plots and who finally became the most painful subject in this whole plot. That night, Rachel had sworn on her very life that she would not leave this world until she destroyed the family that had ruined her life.

From then on, she had set her goals in motions. She became a conwoman. A very skillful one indeed. She learned a lot of useful tricks as she lived on her own willpower. She tricked people into giving her money. She had people fooled multiple times as she attempted to cheat money from them. It was until she met a man named Schuester during her teenage years that she learned to soften her edge and started helping people as she tricked people as well. She might call herself Robin Hood if it's not for the dark spot in her heart, reserved for the people who ruined her.

All those nights as she lived her life of tricking and helping, she only used one thing – or human – as consolation. That blonde girl in the orphanage. Rachel had forgotten her name but she remembered the childish antics of the kid during her stay in the orphanage. And she was really cute. But what's lacking was that darn small portion of her leg that had caused her to limp her way into her life. Kids in the orphanage often made fun of the blonde's uncommon feature until Rachel finally stood up for her that one day. And when there's a kind Latin family who had wanted to adopt Rachel, she gave the chance to the blonde girl, telling them that she's better than Rachel.

And because of that action, Rachel had put herself into a life of misery. But she never regretted it. She knew if the blonde girl was in her place, she'd never live. She was fragile, vulnerable. Rachel knew from the bottom of her heart and instincts that the girl would never make it out strong. And Rachel would rather herself be the object of their torment. Every now and then, she had tried to recall the name of the girl, but she never could. She knew it was buried deep in the depths of her mind. And yet, it was nowhere to be found.

Rachel stood up from the sofa and walked out to the threshold, taking in the utter elegance of New York City before her. It was beneath her feet, as if the entire city was hers. And she took that thought into temporary consolation before reality stepped in and took over.

It was never hers. Just like her innocence since it was robbed away that fateful night.

Quinn sat at the counter, attacked by a bout of complete migraine. She didn't know what more she could do except asking for Rachel Berry's offered assistance. And she had to let down her pride to do that. Their priority was the bakery's continuation. And without the funds she knew Rachel Berry could provide for them, this heritage was going to wilt away and die. She couldn't afford that. All of them couldn't afford that.

They needed the funds.

As much as her mother, Santana and her brother, Blaine were reluctant to do so, they knew they had no choice but nod their heads in acquiesce. So now, after checking the stocks and getting rid of the damaged ones, leaving just barely any left for the week behind, she's waiting in the bakery at night, awaiting Rachel Berry's arrival.

Forget about her beauty. To reach beneficial negotiation with that woman, she had to forget about Rachel Berry's beauty. She had to. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, positioning at her nose and frowned, praying to whoever it was up there to give her the freakin' strength to forget about the beauty.

"Well, I never thought signing a contract with me will make you want to pray." Quinn opened her eyes and saw the object of her prayer standing in front of her over the counter.

And that view was breathtaking. The brunette had her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail but the bangs were left hanging to the side of her forehead, and she had changed her outfit from this afternoon too. And Quinn couldn't help to sneak one glance at the ample cleavage revealed under the loose V-neck top with a small jacket covering her arms. Quinn gulped and managed a hostile glance at Rachel Berry. She cleared her throat and slid out of her chair.

"Before I sign this contract," she said, eying the yellow envelope in Rachel's hand. "I want to reach an agreement with you."

"I'll see what I can do." No promises and Quinn couldn't help but be impressed with this woman. She knew what she was doing.

"You get fifty percent share of this place. That means we are both equal owners."

"No doubt."

"Also, any suggestions you make have to go through me. And then I'll take it into consideration considering we're both equal owners," Quinn emphasized.

Rachel smiled wider. "No problem."

A smile ghosted across Quinn's lips before she pursed them again. "You are not allowed to make any sort of dismissal on the staff unless I agree with it – which might be impossible."

At this, Rachel seemed to have doubts. But moments after, she finally looked back at Quinn. "I can deal with that. But in exchange, you have to be reasonable and hear me out when I suggest a dismissal," Rachel stated logically. "It's very unlikely I will ever give out any unreasonable explanation. Do you have any more requests?"

"You cannot by any chance usurp my ownership over the bakery."

Rachel's lips parted and a bark of laughter escaped, followed by a string of hearty ringing laughs. Quinn watched in dismay and scowled at Rachel, in spite of the melodic ring of her laughter. She waited for a few seconds before Rachel finally sobered and wiped tears from her eyes. She stared at Quinn for a moment and scoffed, shaking her head, pulling out the draft contract from the envelope. "That is never going to happen," she promised and laid out the draft before Quinn. "This is the draft. Tweak anything you want and I'll set up an official contract by tomorrow evening."

Quinn watched the brunette warily but all she saw was genuine amusement twinkling in the pair of enticing brown orbs. She cleared her throat – again – and picked up the draft, running her eyes over it and saw no faults in it. "I need ingredients tomorrow. Perfect ingredients from the suppliers listed here." She pulled out a folded piece of lined paper from her back pocket and showed it to Rachel. "If you can manage to send them by the amount I want them before 3 pm tomorrow, you have yourself a deal, Miss Berry."

Rachel always loved challenges. Even from beautiful blondes like Quinn. She pocketed the folded paper. "It's Rachel," she said casually, taking the drafted contract and sliding it back into the envelope.

"What?"

"Next time, call me Rachel, Quinn," Rachel replied. "I find it really unnerving when every one of my business partners calls me by my last name."

Quinn pasted on a fake smile and leaned over the counter. "And I find it unnerving when strangers call my first name when it's only the second time we have met."

Rachel chuckled. "Let's go and have a drink, shall we?" Quinn's brows rose at the invitation. "I don't bite. Maybe we can get to know each other more and it'll be easier when we need to talk." Rachel shrugged and jerked her head at the door, silently extending her invitation again. The blonde was hesitant but she picked up her jacket from the chairback anyway and slid it on. She gawked when she saw the car Rachel parked outside the bakery. "It's just a car," Rachel mused with a laugh, getting in the driver's seat.

"An expensive car," Quinn commented, sitting beside Rachel and be careful to not touch anything and risk having to pay for any damage. "A really expensive one."

Rachel's face broke into a grin as she rounded a corner. "It's nothing valuable compared to what I would rather have." Her voice drifted off as her mind was unwillingly being haunted by the image of the blonde girl from the orphanage again. She shook her head as if she could shake the thoughts away. Of course, it was of no satisfying result.

Quinn stared at her with incredulity. "Look, Miss Berry, you are apparently a successful entrepreneur. Applause for you," she mocked. "But to us, a car like this carries as much worth as our own house. And we are now in crisis. So I'd rather you not stretch out that this is a normal car for you and when I accidentally scratch it, you'll turn on me and ask me to pay for the loss and keep telling me how expensive it is."

The brunette looked at her once and pulled by the curb, shifting the gear into parking mode. Despite the fact that it's illegal to stop her car by the roadside like this, Rachel didn't seem to give a care as she shifted to face Quinn fully. "Once again, it's Rachel," she stressed, holding out her finger to make her point. Quinn rolled her eyes in annoyance. "And I can't seem to understand if your hostility is because you despise me for practically forcing you into giving me half the ownership of the bakery or it's because you don't do really well with strangers. Would you mind clarifying it for me?"

"Cease the dictionary attack, please," Quinn interrupted. Rachel shrugged and nodded, but kept her searching gaze on Quinn. The blonde gulped uncomfortably and moved in her seat. She thought she felt an itch on her back but it's not there now. "It's both," she finally answered. Rachel raised her brow and she gestured for the blonde to continue. "You barged in here without notice and asked me to sell part of the bakery to you and then claiming that you know how to help with my problems. And that made me think that you are sort of a bitch."

Rachel sniggered from her seat and nodded in understanding. "Go on, though I might make a point that when I prove my ability tomorrow, you will be thanking me because I really can pull you out of your crisis."

The blonde looked at her boringly and sighed. "Second of all, who in the world doesn't feel weird while they're around a stranger? Nobody! So I think it's reasonable for me to be hostile to you. And I will keep on being hostile to you until you prove yourself to me that you are indeed a trustworthy person. I can't give a part of my bakery to someone who's all talk and no action."

"But you have to promise that you are going to sign that contract if I manage to send the stocks to you by tomorrow."

"Three in the evening."

"And you really gotta start calling me Rachel!" Quinn snorted and covered her mouth quickly although Rachel could see she was shaking with mirth. "There you go! Finally you are smiling at me!" Quinn talked behind her palm, her words muffled and Rachel strained to hear her but couldn't. "Pardon?"

Quinn heaved a sigh and removed her hand, revealing the most breathtaking grin Rachel had ever seen and for one minutes there, Rachel's heart stopped beating. "I said I wasn't smiling."

"You are," Rachel returned.

"I am grinning," Quinn emphasized.

Rachel rolled her eyes and pulled her car back into driving mode and pulled out of the curb. "And to think that I am the verbose one, you clearly have to reconsider that statement."

"This doesn't make us friends," Quinn said suddenly, her voice sobered.

"Never said we were." The entrepreneur leaned back in her chair and exhaled deeply. "We are acquaintances."

Quinn nodded in agreement and looked out the window. She relished in the joy of getting to see the city. And she wondered how long has it been since she ever took time to actually enjoy it. This was a really rare opportunity. "I can't remember the last time I came here and actually take the time to look at the city," she whispered to herself, gaping in awe at the billboards and huge advertisements boards hanging off buildings. "It's spectacular."

"It's actually a better view from my place," Rachel commented.

Quinn turned away from the window and stared at Rachel for a moment. "Do you mind me asking as question?"

Rachel shrugged. "Depends."

"Are you gay?"

The brunette laughed softly and kept on driving. "You should know since I've been trying to seduce you for the past few hours since this afternoon," Rachel said and saw the horrified look on Quinn. She couldn't really make out if it's real or pretended because she needed to concentrate on driving. "Just kidding," she added. "But to be specific, I am a bisexual." Quinn nodded. "That's a pretty sensitive question if you're asking a person who's aware of the social status."

"It's not high school. I don't think sexuality actually defines who you are. There are still other…features to a person," Quinn spoke. "But if you feel offended, then I am sorry." Rachel waved her hand as if to tell Quinn it didn't matter. When Rachel drove the car into an empty alley which was pretty creepy, Quinn became cautious. "Okay, where are you taking me?"

"To a drink."

"In the alley?"

Rachel scoffed and unbuckled her seatbelt. She came out and rounded the car to open the door for Quinn. The blonde was frozen inside as she looked around her. "I promise you, this is not gonna harm you. Come on! Humor me."

"You're a stranger."

Once again, the brunette let out a scoff and she reached in to take Quinn's hand, dragging her out of the car despite Quinn's unwillingness. "You know what? Man up. If you are cautious all the time and don't even know how to chill once in awhile, you really have no life," Rachel grumbled as they walked to a rusty door at the back of a building. Yeah, you're the one to talk, she told herself grumpily and shook the thought away. "Welcome to the forbidden heaven that I love," she said with a grin and pushed open the door forcefully. The door made loud creaky noises as it opened and Quinn gasped at what she saw inside.

In spite of the worn down state on the exterior of the building, the interior of it was elegant and completely magical. It was club, no doubt. But the decorations were out of the world. It was like she just stepped into Wonderland. A tiny Wonderland. Rachel tugged her into the club and closed the door behind her. There was a swarm of people inside. Some were drinking and laughing at the bar, some were dancing their heart out on the dance floor, and some were just enjoying the feel inside the place.

They sat on a couple of stools by the bar and Rachel grinned at an Asian man who had a tattoo on his forearm behind the bar. "Good night, Mike?" she asked.

"Pretty much," Mike said, grinning back at her. He stole a glance at Quinn and nodded with a polite smile, which Quinn returned. "I see you brought a friend tonight. I have never seen you bringing anybody here before except for Puckerman."

"Mike, Quinn Fabray. Quinn, Mike Chang," Rachel introduced them. "She is my business associate."

"Don't be too sure about that," Quinn interjected with a smirk.

Rachel laughed and waggled her brows at the blonde. "I am sure," she said confidently.

Mike shook his head and offered his hand at Quinn. "Nice to meet you, Quinn," he greeted with a wink and Quinn shook it. "Got a boyfriend?"

Quinn chortled and shook her head. "No. Not for the moment."

"No?" he repeated and looked at Rachel. "Looks like I have a shot."

"Mike!" she scolded and Mike laughed. "Forgive him. A shrink once said he compensates with humor. Too much humor," she directed at him with narrow eyes. He laughed again and nodded at Quinn reassuringly. "As a decent owner of a bar and also the bartender, I think it's time for you to take your patrons' orders."

"The usual?" Rachel nodded and he turned to Quinn. "What about you?"

The blonde cleared her throat – she seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. "Do you have diet coke?" she asked, feeling foolish and shrunk back into her seat when she saw the weird looks Mike and Rachel were giving her. "I'm just acting as her company since she practically brought me here by brute force."

"I never knew you were a liar," Rachel intruded her speech and Quinn let out a snort of laughter.

"Whatever. But I'm not drinking tonight."

Mike shook his head. "I don't have diet coke here, Quinn. It's a club if I must remind you. And this is a club where all the drinks consist of alcoholic substance. Is she always this uptight?" he directed the question to Rachel and the brunette grinned, winking at Quinn in the process.

"From what I gather so far, yes she is."

"Hello!" Quinn exclaimed. "I'm still here!" she said in annoyance.

"Look, Quinn, just one shot of vodka or whiskey, that'll be enough for me. I asked you out here for a drink, not to accompany me while I have a drink!" Rachel exclaimed. Quinn rolled her eyes and sighed in surrender. Rachel grinned in triumph and crooked her finger at Mike. He neared her and she whispered, "Bring her vodka. I want it strong."

He frowned at her. "Are you trying to rape her, dude?"

She glared at him. "I am trying to get her to be ridiculous and let her live her life for once."

"How do you know she hasn't lived her life?" he whispered back.

She looked at with her jaw wide open. "Dude, she asked for a diet coke! I think that says enough!" she whispered fiercely.

"Do I want to know what you guys are talking about?" Quinn asked from next to the brunette.

"No," Rachel said truthfully and glared at Mike enough to get him scurrying to make the drinks.

"What did you do to her?" Santana questioned the minute she saw Quinn and Rachel at her front door. And Quinn appeared to be…drunk?

"She's drunk. Are you blind?" Rachel squeaked at the heaviness of drunken Quinn. "We'll talk after I get her off me. So will you please be kind and help me with her?" Santana's frown never left her face but she stepped aside to let Rachel in.

"Her bedroom's the one with the blue door."

Rachel nodded with a grunt and helped Quinn to her bedroom. She deposited the blonde onto the bed and huffed in relief, pulling the blanket up to cover Quinn. She looked around and saw a wardrobe, an old chest and a desk where there were laptop and other stationeries on it. There was also a door that Rachel believed leads to the bathroom. She took a long look at Quinn and realized she had never seen Quinn so peaceful for the whole day until now. She couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"I really don't appreciate you staring at my sister like a perv," Santana drawled from the doorway and raised her brows at Rachel. "And before I punch you, you should get out of here."

The shorter brunette got out of the room and was starting to walk out before Santana stopped her. She whirled back around and stared at Santana. "Can I help you?"

Santana awarded her with a mocking grin and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh you've helped me enough by trying to buy our bakery from us. We only gave part of it to you because we are in need of the funds," she said, sweetness was laced in her tone but Rachel knew that was faked either. "So tell me, what have you done to my sister?"

"Adopted sister, you mean," Rachel pointed out with a skeptical brow raised.

Santana dropped her act and her 'happy' expression was replaced with one that could scare anyone away. But not Rachel. Rachel was not easily scared at this time of her life. She's seen enough to be scared by these mere threats. "Listen up, hobbit," Santana snapped and with two strides, they were inches apart. "I know people like you. You worship money. And from what I've observed from other scum like you, you will do anything for complete power. Newsflash, midget, that bakery is not for sale." Santana's tongue curled in anger and she grew angrier when the challenging glint in Rachel's eyes met hers. "And my sister will never be with you, no matter how interested you are in her."

At that, Rachel jeered and shook her head at the incredulity of Santana's words. "Okay, first of all," she began, crossing her arms just like Santana, "I offered to buy half the share from Quinn. I didn't force you to. And from the states of your bakery, I think I gave you all a salvation. Secondly, you don't know a thing about me," she sneered. "Don't try to make assumptions because I certainly am not a woman you want to guess her past or even mess with. You get me? And lastly, you're not the boss of Quinn. You can't control who she's involved with."

"So you admit it," Santana voiced, ignoring the rest of Rachel's speech.

"I have nothing to hide. But just so we're clear, I didn't make a move and had never intended to. I just brought her out for a drink because she seems a little too uptight for a person I want to work with." Rachel smiled smugly at Santana's dumbstruck expression. "Now please excuse me, it's late and I need to go back home. Good night and see you tomorrow, Miss Lopez."

Rachel stalked out of the front door and made her way to the parking lot in fifteen minutes. She opened the door and slammed it close; breathing harshly as she gripped the steering wheel so tight she was surprised that it didn't break. How dare that woman guess her intentions like she's a psychic? And what's worst was that she was wrong in every single guess! She hated people who make judgments just by looking at the surface and never try to see what that person was like inside. People just like them.

She angrily revved up the engine of her car and pulled out of the parking lot. She had a lot to do tomorrow.

Sam Evans called this morning.

Rachel threw what occurred last night with that Lopez girl to the back of her mind and smiled in triumph at what she had achieved. Jackpot. Her secretary gave her a slip of paper with the man's number written on it. She took it and studied for a long time. This was just what she had expected. Those people were just so easy to predict. And she predicted in just ten seconds her phone will ring again. The caller would be Sam Evans again. She waited. Ten seconds.

It rang.

She couldn't help but let out a laugh of achievement. She picked it up and gestured for her secretary to cut the connection between their lines. Brittany nodded and walked out of her office. "Rachel Berry," she greeted brightly. Her face was back to being expressionless.

"Miss Berry, good morning. This is Sam Evans from the Hudson Organization," a rough male voice sent its way into her ears.

"Yes, Mr Evans, may I help you?"

"News has it that you are now sharing half the share of the Lopez Delight," Evans answered. "I am curious if you'd be willing to sell the share to us. We are very interested."

Her fingers tapped rhythmically on her desktop. This was all she had anticipated and she's glad she grabbed their attention at first place. "Whether or not I'll be a part-owner of Lopez Delight is undetermined, Mr Evans, and even if I am, why would I want to sell it to you? I bought it for my corporation's income, obviously. Selling it to you will be a waste, don't you think?"

She heard him cleared his throat from the other line. "Well, we have been interested on the shop lot for quite some time and had extended many offers to buy it from Quinn Fabray and Santana Lopez, but they never yielded. What is the method you used to convince them to give you fifty percent share?" he asked curiously and she chuckled quietly.

Apparently, the kid's new to the cruel world of doing successful business. "Mr Evans, I hope you wouldn't mind me saying this to you but it's the truth. Next time, if you are still not ready, ask one who's used to interacting with the opponent in the commerce circle to talk to me. Goodbye for now, Mr Evans." And she hung up.

That particular call just signed the beginning of her plot.

So? What do you think? Please review!