Page 15 of Soul Of A Villain

“How do you take your coffee?” His question snapped her gaze back to him. “And while the kitchen is fully stocked, I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook.”

“Cream and sugar, please,” she said in a small voice that made his cock twitch with anticipation. He imagined her saying “Yes, Sir,” in the same tone when he commanded her to get on her knees.

All in good time.

He slid a cup in front of her and leaned back against the opposite counter. His gaze fixated on the motion of her throat when she took a sip of the steaming beverage. Just watching her swallow, and imagining his cum trickling down her throat, was making him uncomfortably hard.

Her eyes briefly closed in appreciation. “Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes meeting his before darting away again. Tangling a lock of hair around her forefinger, she scanned the open space. No doubt, she was searching for any opportunity to escape.

“Would you like some scrambled eggs? I can manage that much and some toast.” Oliver’s mouth tightened when an unmistakable look of hunger flitted across Londyn’s delicate features. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

Her brow furrowed in confusion. “Yesterday morning. An apple from one of the guards.” A derisive laugh escaped her as she cupped her hands around the coffee mug. “Well, half an apple, anyway. That’s all he threw into the cell.”

Oliver tamped down his rising temper. How in the hell was this girl still upright and lucid? After everything he knew of her captivity, the drugging, the abuse, and being hunted in the woods, she should be curled up on the floor in a helpless heap. “The Ranch hasn’t fed you?”

Londyn shook her head. “Why waste resources on a girl you intend to have murdered?”

The bitterness in Londyn’s tone belied her submissive appearance. She was such a contradiction, and Oliver loved solving a puzzle. Unraveling her was going to be a pleasure.

Oliver reached into one of the lower cabinets, pulling out a frying pan. Because the gas stove sat in the middle of the large island, he could easily keep an eye on her as he cooked. Assembling the items he needed, he whisked the eggs, added some cheddar cheese and a bit of cream, and then poured them into the pan. Londyn sipped her coffee, but her silent attention remained mainly focused on him.

When it was ready, he pushed the plate of steaming eggs and toast toward her.

“I-I need a fork.” Her voice was soft and non-confrontational.

Oliver let out a sharp laugh. After seeing what a woman could do with an innocuous utensil, he sure as hell wasn’t about to place one in his captive’s hands.

Londyn’s head tilted. “Why is that funny?”

“My brother’s fiancée once stabbed someone in the back with a fork. So, out of an abundance of caution, a spoon will do you just fine.”

She held the spoon he gave her as if considering how best to turn it into a weapon. But hunger won out over bloodthirsty intentions. With a tiny sigh, she began eating while he did the same.

“Picking up our conversation from earlier, tell me how you came to be involved with the auction?” Oliver questioned as she nibbled on her last piece of buttered toast. He had remained on the opposite side of the island, standing in case there was a need to act quickly.

“For the same reasons as other girls. I needed money. It seemed like the only option to get a large sum fast.”

“Alarge sum?” Oliver’s brow arched. “I know Vanderbilt is expensive, but surely you have access to student loans. Scholarships. I imagine you are smart enough for such things. What kind of debt have you racked up? Or maybe it’s something else.” He studied her closely while she squirmed under the scrutiny. “Tell me why this was your only option. Do you like to gamble? Drugs? Something else as illicit as an auction where young women are paid obscene amounts of money for their time and their bodies”

Her eyes flashed with lightning at his crass insinuations. “No,” she snarled, raking a hand through her damp hair in frustration. “I did it because I had no other choice. I did it because I am the only one who can take care of my sister. She-she was beaten and abused and then injected with so many drugs she should have died. Paris is in a nursing home after being in a coma for nearly a month. Now, there are so many bills. There’s no money, and the insurance only goes so far. And since she lost her job because of all this, that will soon be gone.” Londyn’s chin trembled, and damn, if Oliver didn’t feel a slight twinge of something… foreign.

Maybe shame. Or empathy.

Fuck if he knew.

“I need money to make sure the person who hurt her suffers, too,” Londyn said, her eyes now glossy with unshed tears. There was a fierceness in her demeanor completely at odds with the sweetness of her face. “I need money to destroy him. Ruin him.”

“Why not just go to the police? If this man is responsible, you could have reported the crime. Let them handle it. And I’m sure whatever medical bills your sister has acquired could have been resolved with a repayment plan.” Oliver’s eyes narrowed in shrewd assessment. “Unless you wanted a break from all that. Maybe your motivation wasn’t your sister at all. Maybe it was the idea of spending thirty days being catered to. Having gifts lavished on you. Eating in the best restaurants, drinking the finest wine, flying around the world as arm candy to the winning bidder.”

Londyn met Oliver’s gaze. She did not seem aware of the tears streaming down her pale cheeks, turning her eyelashes into dark spikes of inky black.

“The police? Go to them?” She laughed, a harsh sound full of disdain. “They are the ones who did this to her. The chief of police where we live… he did this to her. He wants her dead. And since I’m now trapped in this nightmare, he’ll get his wish.”

Oliver’s head cocked to the side. “None of that matters now, dove. You realize that, don’t you? Your sister. The sheriff. College. Your life before now is done. Everything that happens from here on out is in my control. You no longer have a say in what happens. You no longer have any concerns other than submitting to me and ensuring my happiness and satisfaction.”

Londyn choked on a sob, turning her face to stare out the expansive set of windows overlooking the lake. The water glistened in the distance, the nearly bare trees creating a frame for the lake and the mountains around them. Ten miles in all directions from the main ranch house was nothing but streams, steep mountain ledges, and vast wilderness. She did not say anything for a long moment, and when she turned to face him, her chin was set at a stubborn tilt.

“I know this: I know my life is in your hands now. No matter how wrong it is. No matter how depraved and horrendous this situation is. I’ve been thrust into a world of evil that is incomprehensible to me. And I know you have no reason to consider it, but I wonder if we might come to some kind of agreement.”

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