Page 29 of Fear Me, Love Me

Tyrant seizes my wrists. “Everything. I can give you everything you want. All you have to say isI wish.”

What I want is Barlow, and for the world never to hurt me again. Tyrant might as well promise me the moon.

His eyes narrow behind his mask. “You think I can’t give you what you crave, but I can. All you have to do is name it, and the devil will get to work.”

“But then the devil would own me.”

“Body and soul,” he agrees, caressing my wrists with his thumbs. “But you get your heart’s desire. A fair trade, don’t you think? Say it, Vivienne.I wish Tyrant Mercer would give me my heart’s desire. Say the words and everything you want is yours. You’ll wake up in the morning and your whole life will be different.”

My heart aches with longing. He’s promising me the moon, and as it hangs over us, silvery and luminous, it suddenly feels within reach.

“I wish…”

A wicked smile spreads over Tyrant’s face. There’s danger and blood in that smile. For a moment, over his shoulder, the ballroom turns an ominous red and the dancers are suddenly screaming and writhing as if they’re trapped in the depths of hell.

Why does it feel so ominous that Tyrant is offering me everything I want on a silver platter? Shouldn’t this be the most romantic moment of my life?

“I’m afraid of you sometimes,” I whisper.

He leans down and his lips ghost up my ear. “Good.”

There’s someone behind Tyrant. A figure lurches toward us, moonlight sliding over his bruised and battered face. His arm is in a sling and he moves like it’s painful to walk. The man’s face is swollen so much that I barely recognize him, but when I do, I gasp in shock. “Dad?”

Dad sees me in Tyrant’s embrace, and his face transforms in disgust. “I knew I’d find you here with him.” He gestures at his wrecked body with his good hand. “Do you see what he did to me, Vivienne? Do you see what happens when you choose a monster over your own family? Our lives are ruined, and it’s all your fault.”

9

Tyrant

Vivienne has turned pale and her fingers are digging into my shoulders as she stares in horror at her father. She almost said the words. I was so close to everything I crave, and then up pops this piece of shit, laying all his crimes at his daughter’s feet. Owen Stone ruined his own life.

“Dad, what happened to you?” Vivienne cries. She tries to go to him, but I don’t let her leave my embrace.

Stone glares at her. “As if you don’t know. Your fucked-up boyfriend here beat me up.”

Vivienne shakes her head. “Tyrant wouldn’t do that.”

I smile and press a kiss to her temple, just behind her mask. Oh, my little angel. Still believing that I have a shred of conscience just because I’m sweet to her. She’s so vulnerable and soft-hearted, but that’s one of the things I love about her. The world has treated her cruelly, but she hasn’t lost her innocence.

“Ask him. Go on, ask him,” Stone demands as I give him a gloating smile.

“Tyrant is merciful,” Vivienne insists. “He let Barlow come home to us. He hasn’t demanded that you pay back his money. He hates to see me suffering, so I know he wouldn’t hurt my family.”

I hate to see Vivienne suffering, so I have to kill her family. As soon as she asks for it, as soon as she’s safely living with me, I’ll slit Stone’s throat.

“You’re deluded, Vivienne. He stole Barlow. He beat me up. He already killed Lucas. They found his body not far from one of Mercer’s clubs. He’d been beaten to death. That’s because of you as well, isn’t it?”

Vivienne’s hands tighten on my shoulders after hearing that little piece of news. I wrap my arms around her waist, soothing her surprise by stroking her bare back. Lucas Jones screamed, wet himself, and sobbed for his mother as I beat him to death with a heavy chain. What a wonderful moment that was. Almost as wonderful as killing Stone and his wife will be, and then taking Barlow for our own.

“Dad,” Vivienne says in a shaky voice. “I’ve only ever wanted to be your daughter and Barlow’s sister. How can you say that everything’s my fault?”

“You’re next, Vivienne,” Stone warns her. “He’ll beat you black and blue the moment you make him angry. He’s an animal.”

“My angel knows I wouldn’t lay a finger on her in violence.” Running my thumb along her jaw, I smile. “Unless she wants me to.”

“You’re a sick bastard,” Stone accuses.

“Dad, don’t speak to Tyrant like that,” Vivienne tells her father.

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