Page 45 of Soul Of A Villain

“It’s been three weeks. Maybe you’ve already disposed of her? If not, I will pay your price to transfer ownership.”

“Fuck off. She’s not for sale,” Oliver replied calmly, his blood simmering with rage, although he maintained his composure. How dare this fuckerthinkhe stood a chance in hell of taking Londyn. “Not now. Not ever.”

“Thought I’d do you a favor by throwing the offer out there. Ruel says a third party is interested in taking her. Said if the funds come through, they’ll hold another auction and hunt. Of course, since she’s no longer a virgin, the bidding will be greatly reduced. But I hope we can avoid that.” Barlow hesitated. “I’d like to work out a deal before they take her back…”

“Take her back? Not fucking happening.”

“That goddamn sale should have been voided that night, Winter,” Barlow said, his tone rising in anger. “You cheated?—”

“Cheated? I cheated?” Oliver snarled softly. “You were fucking about to rape the girl.”

“So what? I caught her first. She was mine to fuck right then and there.”

“You may have caught her, Barlow, but I’m the one who tracked her through the woods. I’m the one smart enough to take out my opponent by any means necessary. And I’m the one who carried her back and was recognized as the obvious winner.”

“You almost gave me a goddamn concussion.”

Oliver laughed. “You were compensated for your loss. Ruel gave you your choice of women and the freedom to do whatever you wanted.”

“I was not given free rein. And I certainly did not have permission to do what I would have done to Item Number Fifteen. She was why I bid in the first place. It was the perfect opportunity to hunt human prey and decide the manner of her death. You stole that remarkable experience away from me,” Barlow grumbled. “The Andrey brothers have promised a second hunt, open to other bidders. If we handle this ourselves, we won’t get screwed over by those fucking Russians.”

“I don’t give a fuck what they’ve promised. I hunted her. I caught her. I’m keeping her. She’s fuckingmine.”

Barlow’s laugh was dry. “Don’t be so sure of that, Winter. They have their own sick methods of getting what they want. With certain law-enforcement factions behind them, I don’t doubt they will succeed. But maybe I will beat them to it.”

“Barlow, I want you to understand something. I’m like my brother. Only I’m worse. I’ve tortured more men than I can count and eliminated far more. I am not secretly tormented by this necessity in my life. The Andrey brothers are aware of this, but you don’t know me as well as them. I’m saying this because I want you to remember this. It’s the only time I’ll give you a warning. Don’t fuck with me. And if I ever see you nearher, regardless of how innocent the circumstances may be, I will rip you limb from limb and use your head as a paperweight on my desk. Now, lose my fucking number.”

Oliver ended the call.

Over his dead fucking body would he ever give his prize up. Yeah, he’d cheated during the hunt, but that was to be expected. He did what was necessary. That’s what a Winter did. They cheated. Lied. Stole. Killed. And all in the name of getting what they wanted.

“Fuck!” Oliver shouted into the emptiness of the car’s luxury interior.

Barlow’s call was a warning. It was likely already in the works if the Russians had publicly stated their intention to hold another hunt. And what law-enforcement entity was driving the reversal of the permanent sale?

The biggest question was why the apparent fixation on Londyn? Oliver knew some men relished the opportunity to hunt and dispose of a woman. It was a depraved excitement available to the wealthiest, most powerful men in the world. That Londyn was a quiet nobody was a bonus. Being a beautiful, innocent girl made her invaluable. With her background, she would never be missed. No family would be looking for her. No close friends organizing search parties or candlelight vigils. With the overwhelming obligations of school and caring for a seriously ill sister, would anyone raise an eyebrow at the suggestion that Londyn ditched her problems to start over somewhere?

But then again, maybe this didn’t have anything to do with Londyn herself. Maybe this had everything to do with his botched deal with the Russians the year before. They’d been furious when he backed out of selling Ava to them. He hadn’t cared then, and he didn’t now. Especially since he’d reluctantly paid a fortune to smooth things over. Oliver never gave the organization a reason for his decision to back out, but murdering his own partners and reconciling with Kingston made it obvious to the casual observer. It was possible that Ruel and Erik still held grudges even while they smiled, took his money, and kept his membership active at Diamond Lake Ranch. Maybe he’d been too arrogant, too assured of his own ruthless reputation to recognize they hadn’t letanyof it go.

Oliver’s teeth clenched with frustration. None of these conjectures or theories mattered. He didn’t give a fuck what the Andrey brothers wanted and/or expected. Londyn wasn’t going back to them, nor would Lee Barloweverget his hands on her.

She was his. No other man would have an opportunity to take her from him.

He drove the winding mountain roads as if he were a professional racecar driver. It was dangerous, but he could not dispel the sense of urgency hounded him. He’d left her alone for too long, and not restricting her contact with others was a gamble he shouldn’t have taken. Of course, he’d checked the camera system often during his absence, ensuring that Londyn remained in the house. But his fingers itched to touch her silky skin. His lungs couldn’t expand to full capacity without her nearby. And his heart thumped sluggishly when he couldn’t hear her soft breathing. He wondered if he might be going a bit insane. Never had he felt such an overwhelming need for physical contact with someone to feel whole.

It was a four-hour trip to reach the cabin. Oliver made it in three.

While waiting for the gate to swing open, he pulled up the cameras. He didn’t want to search the entire house for her. This was a more efficient method of quickly locating her so he could go straight to her. But her bedroom was empty. As was the library.

For a second, Oliver’s heart stuttered. Had his little dove foolishly attempted an escape?

His footsteps were hard, heavy, and impatient as he ascended the terraced steps in a rush. Entering the open living room and attached foyer, Oliver considered checking the cameras again but stopped when he heard voices, feminine voices coming from the kitchen. Londyn’s sweet voice was instantly recognized, but the giggle that followed was not.

A pang of regret slammed the inside Oliver’s chest, bouncing off his ribs almost painfully.

He’d never heard Londyn laugh. Hell, he’d never even seen her really smile. The fact he suddenly wanted to bask in the sunshine of her happiness was alarming.

Even worse?

---