Page 27 of Heart of a Villain

As she lazily tried to free herself from his grasp, he picked her up yet again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling against his familiarity. The old Sayeda would have died in a swarm of giddiness. This Sayeda, the angry and scarred Sayeda, didn’t laugh, snicker, or giggle, but she did something she hadn’t done in a long time—she set her cheek on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Adrían, I missed you so much,

it hurts to hold you now.

She’d only just arrived, so the last thing she wanted to do was get on anyone’s bad side. Challenging Wren for Adrían would, one hundred percent, put her on virtually everyone’s bad side, but regardless of her anger and her scars, a part of her still wanted this man all to herself. If that meant finding the strength to fight for him, she would. Eventually, they would understand. If placed in the same situation, she was sure they would choose to cling to life rather than submit to death now that there was something to live for.

Friends.

Family.

Adrían.

As they walked through the front door, she felt him sigh, his chest pushing against hers, and she swore she felt his contentment making its way through her bones.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

This was a completely different woman.

On its own, this new personality wasn’t exactly a terrible thing; the sharp edges only added to her charm when it came to someone like him. A little bit of darkness could be a good thing.

Unfortunately, he knew all too well what it was like to live with edges honed from necessity rather than choice. Between the words that left her mouth, some of which hit like sparks of electricity, to the middle fingers she sent to cartel enforcers, he picked up on pain.

A shitload of pain.

Adrían leaned his head back against the wall and listened as Sayeda tried to hide her choking cries behind the closed bathroom door. He’d sensed her holding something in ever since the Brazilian shitstain started his tirade. Despite how she’d come across, he’d seen in her eyes that this man had brought her a significant amount of hurt, and that hurt wouldn’t have disappeared all because she’d found a moment to stand up to him. Yet, as much as he wanted to go to where Rafael was and slice his neck from ear to ear, the fucker had a greater purpose.

The crying stopped.

The door handle rattled.

Then, it all started up again, and he stopped himself just before his fist would have slammed against the wall, alerting her to the fact that he was eavesdropping. It was like she was back from the dead. For him, she was back from the dead. And, not only was she alive, she was there.

In Sweden.

Less than ten feet away from him.

He found himself wondering whether Ayesha was right, whether his feelings for her had leaked from the same container where he’d kept his feelings for Sayeda on ice. To some extent, he could see that being true, but there remained bits and pieces that he knew, and felt, had been for Ayesha and Ayesha alone.

Had it been someone else, he probably could have eventually had the same feelings, but the minute he saw Ayesha’s face, his brain showed him Sayeda’s burning body. It tried to remind him that this woman was not, in fact, his woman. Even then, he’d still tested Josiah’s DNA against his, although Josiah was born before he and Sayeda met.

Just to be sure.

It was a little premature, declaring her as his less than twelve hours into her resurrection, but he never let her go. She was stolen from him. Years of unaddressed feelings were hitting him all at once, and he didn’t know what to do with any of them.

Wren poked her head inside the bedroom door, and he raised a finger to his lips. She pointed to the bathroom, and he nodded. Ayesha had called him to make sure Sayeda was settling in all right, and he told her that she was, but he knew Ayesha. Whatever he didn’t say, she’d picked up on anyway.

Behind Wren, Thanasis’ frame darkened the doorway, and there’d been little to no chance in hell of him not coming back that night. Mo could have sent him to Papua New Guinea; Wren would have still felt someone crawl into bed next to her at two in the morning—assuming they shared the same bed. Considering the man had tied her up at some point, it was a fair assumption.

“You two mind staying with Sayeda for a little while?” Adrían asked. “I have to go do something.”

The bathroom door opened.

Sayeda stepped out, her eyes swollen and her nose red, but she didn’t say a word as she went over to the bed. Before climbing in, she detoured to the windows and examined the locks. He studied her motions, thinking of the different ways they might be able to move forward.

As a man who believed in all things worldly and otherworldly, fate and destiny were included in his wheelhouse of belief. It was hard to convince himself that she hadn’t been led back to him for the sole purpose of them sharing a future, but it wouldn’t be a future of friendship.

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