Page 55 of Soul Of A Villain

Covering the fresh tattoo with protective film, he rolled Londyn onto her side, smoothing the tangled hair away from her tear-streaked face. There was no explanation or even understanding ofthe level of his obsession with this girl. It defied reasoning or explanation. Watching as she surrendered, knowing she craved him with the same bewildering intensity, was changing him in ways he never anticipated let alone thought possible. She had infected him with something magical and bewitching. He needed her to feel whole. To remind him he was human and not just the monster everyone believed him to be. The more he was around her, the more Londyn sank into his bloodstream, andthe more he realized that a life without her was impossible.

It terrified him. His stomach twisted into knots because the first and most important lesson he’d learned long ago was never toget attached. Never give the enemy a target that could be used against you. And never, ever fall in love. It was too dangerous and far too painful.

Dark eyelashes shadowed Londyn’s upper cheekbones, brushing her skin like tiny raven feathers. Using his forefinger, Oliver traced the straight line of her nose and the faint freckles dancing across it. Moving to the pout of her lips, he rubbed their pillowy softness and marveled over their tempting fullness. She tasted so good every time he kissed her. It was a flavor akin to cotton candy or the sweetness of overripened apples. Whatever it was, it was undeniably addictive. He couldn’t stop kissing her. It was impossible.

Leaning in, he kissed her. Londyn barely stirred, unfazed by the pressure of his mouth moving over hers. She slept so deeply that he worried he might have overdone it on the dose. But when a hum of contentment fluttered in her throat and her mouth curved upward on one side in an unconscious smile, Oliver breathed a sigh of relief. The drug made it easy to insert the tracker chip while ensuring she would still be under its effects in the morning for transportation to the airfield. It probably would not last long enough to reach The Den, but he was prepared to administer another dose if needed during the journey.

Giving her the drug also allowed him to mark ownership of her body. He would have tattooed her at some point, but the idea of this being a surprise was appealing. He could not help but wonder how horrified she would be once she discovered his motto inked along the delicate line of her spine.

Bleed For Me.

It’s appropriate. After all, she’s the only one I will bleed for in this lifetime. The only one worth spilling blood for. And I will do whatever is necessary to protect her from my enemies. If I must slaughter every motherfucker in my orbit to ensure that, I will do it with a fucking smile on my face and bathe in their blood.

When his phone beeped with an incoming call, he hesitated in picking it up. He was still reeling after the encounter in the dining room and high from the pleasure he’d gained from simply marking her with his motto. Dealing with business at this moment wasn’t something he was interested in, but he picked up the call when he saw who it was.

“Lost sight of the target, but the asset remains secure,” Bradford dryly reported.

“Lost sight?” Fuck. That wasn’t good. Bradford was ex-military, one of a team of four Oliver had hired to keep tabs on Sheriff Adam Franklin in Georgia. They also kept watch over Paris in the new facility where he’d moved her to. If Bradford could not locate the sheriff, that was a bad sign.

“It was determined the target arranged for a leave of absence from his employment using a family emergency as the reason. Examination ofonline activities revealed dark web searches, with one of those sites being Diamond Lake Ranch.”

Oliver breathed deeply. Fear—an emotion he’d not truly felt since his days as a child—permeated his body. It left him physically nauseated.

“Any indication where he might be?”

Bradford replied, “Target appears to have never left the house; although the wife and child were tracked and confirmed to be at the wife’s parental home in the same city. A deputy sheriff arrived at the target’s home, after which our own search confirmed the residence was empty.” Bradford sighed heavily in frustration, the only chink in his otherwise robotic report. “The subject’s cell phone records indicate contact with several unknown numbers last night and into the afternoon hours, with the last ping coming from a tower in Dallas approximately one hour ago. Cell transmission has been cut off since. We believe the deputy sheriff has provided cover and assisted the target in eluding our surveillance.”

“I’d say that’s a strong likelihood,” Oliver agreed. The team were experts in surveillance, extermination, and disposal of specific problems in this line of work. He trusted them implicitly. “I want you and another man immediately on a plane to Colorado. I want to know if Franklin is within fifty miles of the ranch or my cabin. Find him, Bradford, and stick to his ass like glue once you locate him.”

“That’s an affirmative. Tyler and I will handle it.”

Oliver tossed the phone onto the bedside table, swearing under his breath. Losing track of the sheriff could be nothing, or it could be something. The surveillance, while useful in uncovering Adam Franklin’s illegal activities when it came to his job, had not revealed any interest the man might still have for Londyn’s sister. He had not made any attempt to see his former lover nor checked on her after she was moved to the private facility, although random deputies made the occasional drive-by.

But Oliver could not shake the feeling that the sheriff was linked with Diamond Lake Ranch in some manner he had yet to uncover. Maybe the man had close associates in that area of Colorado. And maybe that’s what Barlow was talking about when he mentioned law-enforcement entities being interested in a second sale and hunt with Londyn serving as the offering. Maybe Ruel Andrey reached out through his covert connections with state and local police agencies and his deep involvement in state politics in finding ways to get Londyn back within the ranch’s grip.

If that was true, Londyn was not safe. While not as powerful as the grip Winter Enterprises had on the criminal underworld, the Andrey brothers, with their Russian ties and corrupt relationships in this part of the country, were a force Oliver could not ignore. Which left him with few options when it came to ensuring Londyn was never under their control again. Taking her to The Den was still the first option, but eventually, he would take her away from that stronghold. He wouldn’t be able to go too long without her, and neither of them could stay there indefinitely. His second option was to cave in and fulfill his promise to end her life before the Russians stole her back. That option made Oliver want to throw up. And his third option… his third option was the most extreme thought ever to cross his mind.

He could make Londyn his wife.

My wife. Mine.

For eternity. Mine.

As his legal wife, no one would dare take Londyn from him. It would be absolute suicide for a man even to consider it. Such drastic measures would ensure her safety no matter where they were. Stealing something so precious from the Devil meant instant annihilation.

Or you could circulate the news that she’s already dead. Once she’s in Kingston’s program and a new identity has been created for her, she can fade away and live a new life. A better life. A life without you in it.

His heart clenched painfully. That would be best for Londyn—a new life, free from danger and men who would use her until she was broken. Men like himself. He could do the right thing for her. Salvage a bit of his own soul by selflessly giving her up. The price for such a sacrifice would mean never seeing her again. She would be dead, as far as the rest of the world was concerned. Including being dead to him.

Fuck that.

Grabbing his phone, Oliver clicked through the contacts. “Change of plan. We’re flying to Vegas before heading to New York. Yeah, I have her replacement driver’s license and passport. They arrived at the cabin while I was on my last job. Yeah. I’ll need a limo, a marriage license, and Judge Cramer to sign off on it. There will be no questions about whether this marriage is legal or not.” His eyes narrowed at the surprise evident in the tone of the other man at the end of the line. “Don’t worry, there will be no need to forge her signature. She’ll sign it. In blood, if necessary. And I know I don’t have to say it but keep this confidential. On a need-to-know basis.”

Ending the call, Oliver quickly sent a series of text messages to several members of his crew, filling them in on the latest developments and giving instructions as to what he would need from each of them. But one person he did not tell was his brother. For now, he wanted the news confined to those within his close circle. Kingston would find out soon enough, he acknowledged with a faint smile.

Behind him, Londyn made an unintelligible sound as she moved in a restless search for warmth. Now that he’d finished with her tattoo, he itched with the need to commemorate his decision in a more personal manner, but hearing her sweet sounds of slumber made him as hard as a rock. Fuck, he really was obsessed with this girl. The urge to claim her, again and again, permeated his thoughts and dictated his actions even while some small part of his conscience cringed.

Stripping out of the rest of his clothing, Oliver climbed back onto the bed and settled his nude body between her creamy thighs. Hovering above her, he stared down at her beautiful face while tracing a finger over the soaring dark eyebrows and the smattering of freckles that cartwheeled across her nose. She was so goddamn gorgeous. So sweet. So kind. And now, she would truly be his.Forever.

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