Page 14 of Indecent Villain

“Will you tell me about my family? Like, what was the family name? And why do you and my father have different surnames?”

I steeple my fingers on the desk and watch Kinsley closely.

“The family name that my grandfather brought with him from Italy was Lombardi. Antonio Lombardi. My mother, Isabella, married Andrew Beckett, one of her father’s enforcers. Jude’s full name was Jude Andrew Elliott Beckett. When he met your mother, he dropped the Beckett name for reasons only he knew.”

Kinsley stares off toward something over my right shoulder. I know she’s letting my words sink in. Her complexion turns pale, and I remind myself that she just lost her parents. Not only that, but she is lumped with me.

I figure that is enough information for today. I want her to think about what I said. Hell, I need to think about how much I want her to know. It would appear she is more aware than Jude gave her credit for.

“The basement. Show me,” I demand.

8

KINSLEY

Tiberius wavesme in front of him as we exit the office. I had misgivings about my father and his business. I was possibly wrong about the drugs, but I heard him clear as day. And the other man… His dark voice sent shivers down my spine. I really hope never to meet him.

Throughout the house, Tiberius follows without comment. I wonder if there is something wrong with me for the way my body reacts to him. It’s new and exciting.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he asks, moving in close to my back so that the words whisper over my neck.

“Why—” I clear my throat and change direction. “You haven’t visited the new basement before, have you?”

“Who says I haven’t?” His hands land on my hips, and a shiver of pure delight slides down my spine.

“If you had, you wouldn’t need me to show you the way inside.”

He grunts, squeezes my hips, and steps away. “Carry on.” He won’t admit defeat.

I roll my eyes and lead him into the dining room. In the far corner, I bend to lift the chair out of the way. Tiberius pushes me aside and does it for me. I face the paneled wall and press on the third panel up in the corner. The secret door pops open.

“Clever,” Tiberius mutters to himself as he steps through. He finds the light switch and hisses when the stairwell lights up. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I know.” I sigh as Tiberius turns back to look at me. “He wanted it to be as neat as the house. He hated the cold,” I tell him.

“I remember,” he says.

We move as far down as the stairs go. There, Tiberius turns on another light, revealing a large room furnished with elegant sofas, throw rugs, coffee tables, and a long sideboard. Atop the sideboard, several bottles of alcohol and a wooden box of Cuban cigars are displayed. A SMEG fridge stands to one side, stocked with beer, water, soda, and wine. Next to it, a cupboard holds snacks that I’ve helped myself to once or twice when I couldn’t sneak into the kitchen.

Tiberius has been lost in thought since he stepped inside the secret area. I use the opportunity to watch him. He is a handsome man—not conventionally so, but in a rugged, take-charge kind of way. His legs fill out a pair of well-worn black jeans quite nicely, accentuating his firm butt. He obviously needs those broad shoulders with all the crap he must have to deal with. I love his hair, though. The way the dark strands curl around his neck. His strong arms are covered in black ink. They intertwine and look amazing and intricate.

My eyes wander back down to his legs. He turns, and I find myself facing his crotch before my eyes shoot upward to find an arrogant raised brow and a smirk on his beautiful lips.

“Office?” he asks.

It takes my befuddled brain more than a few moments to comprehend his request. My cheeks heat.

“This way.” I breathe a sigh of relief to not have his dark gaze on my face.

I focus on the various pieces of information Tiberius has provided so far. One thought keeps pushing forward. Several times, Tiberius struggled to refer to my father as that—my father. He called him Jude instead. I pick up on it because I’ve been wondering about something. It has been at the back of my mind for well over a year.

Frowning, I open the office door, step inside, and switch on the lights.

Tiberius makes a noise of pleasure as he joins me in the room. It’s a lovely office and looks expensive. I throw myself down onto the sofa and curl my legs under me. Tiberius watches me from beneath his brows as he takes a seat behind the large mahogany desk.

Before I lose my courage, I ask, “If my mother had green eyes and my father had brown, how do I have blue eyes?”

I’ve surprised him.

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