Page 27 of Soul Of A Villain

Oliver’s jaw clenched. His older brother was the secret creator and largest donor to a charity aiding victims of domestic violence and abuse. At any given time, there were at least a hundred or so women who were part of the organization and received medical care, therapy, and job skills to rebuild their lives. Oliver had never understood Kingston’s involvement. Winter Enterprises ruled the underground criminal syndicate that dominated the East Coast; helping women in desperate situations was a contradiction of enormous proportions.

But then again, knowing the pain and torment Kingston’s mother and his own mom endured at the hands of their monstrous father, it made perfect sense.

“Oliver, think twice about this. You aren’t the same person you were last year. You aren’t the same person our shitty father beat and tortured. You don’t have to be likehim.I chose not to be, and you can choose that, too. You can do the right thing. You can save this girl’s life,” Kingston urged. “Bring her to New York.”

“Don’t be so fucking dramatic, King. I plan on fucking her, not marrying her.”

Being told how to handle Londyn rubbed Oliver the wrong way. Irrational resentment bubbled inside his gut, although at the same time, he knew Kingston was only trying to help. “I’ll think about it,” he finally muttered, unable to hide the anger in his tone. Being angry was not the best mindset when dealing with his new treasure, but there was only one way to calm his internal demons. His usual method for calming those beasts was a good, hard fuck.

“That’s all I can hope for. While you are handling this next job, I want you to consider the possibilities open,” Kingston said in a weary voice. He quickly rattled off the details for thejob he was sending Oliver on and closed with these parting words. “You’ve come to a crossroads, Oliver. I hope you take the right direction.”

ChapterSixteen

Londyn

After usingthe restroom and splashing her face with cool water, Londyn put away the contents of her duffle bag. Her clothes fit into one drawer of the sleek system built into the walk-in closet. The pair of tennis shoes she had packed from her sister’s house were placed neatly on the built-in rack where they appeared embarrassingly out of place.

Perching in one of the chairs by the row of windows, she looked out over the stunning view. There were endless swathes of trees and the distant glimmer of a lake in the distance, but no other houses could be seen. If she managed to escape the cabin, there was nowhere to go. She couldn’t even be sure where this house was located, although she suspected she was still in Colorado.

She shifted on the chair, the soreness of her bottom a blazing reminder of the spanking and the humiliation of having a thumb shoved inside her. Her captor had no mercy in his twisted soul. He would kill her the moment he grew tired of her.

“What am I going to do?” Londyn wiped tears from her cheeks, hating how easily they flowed. She had to be stronger than this. Stronger and smarter. She must remember her psychology studies and use everything she knew against Oliver Winter.

It would not be easy, especially since he had so easily tapped into a hidden portion of her psyche and discovered how to manipulate her. He commanded, she folded. Realizing that she was complicit in her destruction made her sick.

She had sworn to obey him. Promised to willingly kneel in exchange for her sister’s care and safety. There was no other choice but to do what he demanded and survive long enough to get away.

He had not locked her inside her bedroom. Maybe it was some kind of test. If she could gain his trust and show him that she would not run, he might grow comfortable with her submission and drop his guard. And as much as she feared the reality of being at his mercy, she would do what was necessary. She would obey him. Appease him. Make him trust her.

And strike when he least expected it.

When Oliver returned as promised just a short time later, he had a bottle of water and a ham sandwich for her.

“Best I can whip up in a hurry.” Setting the tray on the dresser, he waved a hand toward it. “I took a chance and decided you liked ham.”

Londyn nodded. She wasn’t really hungry, but she would devour that sandwich if it meant keeping him calm. She must appear appreciative of everything he did for her, regardless of how small. It was how one stroked the ego of a sociopath—making them feel like the most important and most interesting person in the room. She did not get up from the chair where she’d sat, waiting his return. She didn’t want to move and give him the impression that she might be thinking of darting past him.

“I like ham and cheese. Thank you,” she said softly, frozen like a rabbit avoiding the predatory gaze of a wolf.

His head tilted as if he knew her game plan. “You’re welcome, Londyn. Make yourself comfortable. In fact, I advise that you take this opportunity to get some rest. We’ll both need it.” His beautiful light-blue eyes darkened as they raked her body. “You, especially, will find the coming days exhausting.”

Without another word, he turned, exiting the room as Londyn slumped in relief that he had not tried to touch her.

For days, he left her alone in her room. She was positive it was a test to ensure she followed his commands. Londyn obeyed. Not once did she attempt to leave the bedroom, although she was aware that the door was unlocked. Oliver delivered her meals, silently watched her eat, and took the dishes with him when she was done.

Londyn wasglad that their interactions were brief. But she could not ignore the uneasy feeling that something momentous was coming. So, she remained on high alert while she spent the days watching the woods outside the large windows, sleeping, or reading a book from the selection provided in the room’s built-in bookcase. Eventually, Oliver would claim what he had purchased, and that reality was so terrifying that it gave her nightmares.

One morning, the soft sound of the door clicking open made Londyn leap from the chair. Wrapping her arms around her midriff, she stared at her captor as he leaned against the doorjamb. He was tense, an unsettled air emanating from him had grown since they arrived at this house.

His eyes, so piercingly blue, pinned her in place, and Londyn couldn’t do anything other than tremble. Something bad was about to happen. She could feel it.

“What a good girl you are. Staying put, like I told you,” Oliver said in a low voice. He held a bundle of clothes in his arms and tossed them onto a small bench beside the door. A few of the items appeared to be very expensive and exquisitely designed lingerie. In different circumstances, she would have squealed with delight at seeing the lovely items, but the sight of them caused her heart to thump wildly.

“Where would I go?” Londyn was afraid even to blink as the corners of his firm mouth quirked up.

“Where indeed?” His gaze swept over her body, then narrowed. “You’re crying.”

Londyn quickly wiped her cheeks clear of any lingering moisture. She did not respond to the accusation. Of course she had been crying. She was at the mercy of a monster and held as an prisoner inside this room for three days.

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