Page 5 of Indecent Villain

Scared and out of my depth, I turn away from the window. The grandeur of the dining room now seems suffocating, a stark reminder of the impending gloom that arises within me. The portrait of my father hanging on the wall seems to mock me with his knowing gaze, as if he has left behind secrets that I am now forced to uncover. The feeling of unease grows stronger, making me question everything I thought I knew about my family.

Somehow, I manage to pull myself together. I will not let Martha see how much her sharp words and slap across my face have affected me. The woman will not be working at the house for much longer if I have my way. Maybe Tiberius has his own staff that he can bring here. Anyone would be better than the bitter Martha Green.

3

TIBERIUS

I tearoff my suit and change into jeans and a tee. After fastening my biker boots, I release a frustrated growl. I don’t know what the fuck to do about sweet, innocent Kinsley.

I glare out of my bedroom window, my gaze settling on the house across the lake. I open the door and step out onto the balcony. It’s sparsely furnished, with just a table and two chairs, plus a comfortable chaise lounge chair. I’ve spent many summer nights asleep on it. The outdoors has always called to me, just like the Lake House has.

Memories always swamped me whenever I dropped in on Jude and his family. In recent years, my brother had become uneasy about those visits, which made me wonder what he might have been hiding.

As I rest on the balustrade and gaze out once more across the lake at the house, I wonder what Kinsley is up to. It’s something I’ve wondered for a while now whenever my eyes caught on the house. Thoughts I should never have, even now. At first, it was innocent curiosity about the girl I knew my brother hadn’t fathered. But over the past couple of years, I found myself unable to stay away. I’ve never been introduced to the girl until now. I made sure I always stopped by when I knew she wouldn’t be home.

Kinsley grew up rather quickly and became a stunner. I shouldn’t be obsessed with her. It’s wrong. I know that what I’m feeling would be considered acceptable in the real world, if it weren’t for the age difference. I’m not really her uncle. Never have been. Never will be. She doesn’t know that yet.

One look at me covered in tattoos would disgust her. My brother never liked ink. Neither had my mother, which is why I have so many.

Kinsley doesn’t remember, but when she was told about her parents’ deaths, I showed up at the house. She was in shock, so I took charge of her. I held her while she stared into space. I held her some more when her tears finally came. I held her while she slept.

I should have stayed with her so she wasn’t alone, but I was dealing with my own grief. Not only that, but I also had to deal with the cops and make arrangements for Jude and Anna. I took my grief and anger and went after the crew who had forced my brother’s car off the road. His brakes had been cut, and as the crew chased after them, Jude wasn’t able to slow down on the sharp bends of Snake Pass.

I saw the bodies and wish I hadn’t. The only bit of luck that evening was that the car hadn’t burst into flames.

One crew member was still at large. That was my fault. I lost it with the three my men and I had found. The last one died before he could give me a name. However, I did get one name from the other two. Cannon Edge.

That bastard would pay one day.

I turn my head at the sound of booted feet moving down the hallway outside my bedroom.

“Boss,” Salem shouts, knocking on the door. “You in here?”

“Outside,” I yell.

He strides out and comes to rest beside me, his gaze following mine. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I don’t have a fucking clue.”

He snorts. “I haven’t seen you this fucked up before.”

I glare at my friend. “I’m not fucked up.” My eyes stray back to the Lake House. “Edge is going to come for Kinsley.”

“He won’t get her. Between you, me, and Jock, we’ve handpicked all the men who will be around the house. She will be safe.”

“Tell the men they don’t touch her. Make sure they know she’s my family and I will personally kill anyone who causes her harm.”

“Yes, boss,” Salem drawls, mirth in his voice, which I ignore.

“Prick!”

“Edgar has the weasel in the basement. You wanted to talk to him.”

“I want to do more than fucking talk,” I snarl.

“Who is he?”I ask Edgar.

The man tied to the chair, with blood and sweat running down his face, is not familiar to me.

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