Page 27 of Always A Villain
“Are you alright?” Heather’s question snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glance back at the two men, laughing it up in a group of wealthy socialites—predatory smirks plastered across their faces.
“I’m fine,” I lie, even though my insides are in knots. Rationally, I know they won’t risk anything in a crowded room, but fear still squeezes my chest, and the last thing I need is my family finding out about my other life.
“I need a drink,” I blurt, backing away before anyone can stop me. My legs feel like jelly as I cut through the crowd. The bartender barely sets the glass in front of me before I’mgulping half of it.
“I was hoping I’d see you tonight,” a deep voice says behind me. Creed—practically pressed against my back.
I nearly huff. “What do you want?” Sure, he saved my life, but he also dragged me away when I was trying to find Axe.
“Still mad at me?” he asks, stepping beside me and leaning on the bar.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He smirks. “I saved your life, remember? Makes me a hero, right?”
“Hardly,” I scoff. “I didn’t need saving.”
“Without me, you’d be dead,” he counters. “Spencer and your father sure seemed grateful.”
“So, what do you want? A medal?” I shoot back, my glare matching his cocky grin.
“No, but you could thank me. It’s the least you can do, given how close you were to dying.”
“Fine. Thank you,” I grind out. I hate the arrogance rolling off him.
“You’re welcome.” He flashes a flirtatious grin. “See you around, Rory. And don’t forget to text me.” His eyes linger on my chest before strolling off.
Rory looks unbelievable in that gown—neckline plunging, the back cut low, flaunting every perfect inch of her. As she settles at the banquet table, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, I watch her laugh with her nieces, her sinful lips painted red.
For weeks, I’ve been wrestling with these fucking feelings Rory’s stirred up in me. I’ve tried pushing it down, locking it up tight like it doesn’t exist. But, seeing her—laughing, throwing those quick-witted jabs, that fire in her eyes—I realize just how far gone I am. It’s not just the sex or how perfectly her body fits against mine. It’sher. The way she fights back, that defiance in every word she spits. Her strength. Hell, even her smile has me twisted inside out.
I told myself it was just a game, something I’d tire of. But that’s bullshit. Whatever this is, it’s lodged deep, and I’vegot no clue how to rip it out. Every time I see her, I’m right back at square one, resisting something I can’t control. I can’t stand being near her, but I hate being away. I’m fucked either way. I’ve spent my life not feeling a damn thing, and now...I can’t switch it off.
What do I even do with it? Telling her is out of the question—she’d destroy me without trying, and why shouldn’t she, after what I’ve done to her? No. She doesn’t know, and she can’t ever know.
One of Rory’s nieces climbs onto her lap, scribbling on a napkin. “Auntie, when are you having a baby in your tummy?”
The random question nearly chokes me with my drink. Rory hardly blinks.
“You’d be a great mommy,” the little girl adds.
The idea of fatherhood slams into me, hard. My father was a sadist who turned my childhood into his twisted playground. I know the damage that kind of darkness inflicts. I’ll never be a father.
“Hmmm, if I’d be a good mommy, would Uncle Axel be a good daddy?” Rory smirks.
“Trust me, kid,” Griffen butts in with a grin, “you don’t want this guy to be a dad. He can barely take care of himself.”
The girl giggles, and the topic drops—thank fuck.
“Can you imagine?” Griffen leans closer. “The Reaper, a father? You’d be terrible.”
“And you’d be a shitty uncle,” I snap, forcing the suffocating thought away.
The party trudges on, with polished elites praising Conrad for making them richer. I hate the pretense, the cloying perfume of money and fake smiles. Griffen’s got justenough fake charm to mask his psychopathic tendencies. I can’t. And I won’t.
I fucking hate being around people.
Spencer pulls Rory away to parade her around with their father. I’m reminded of the night in the Hamptons when she showed me her scars—the scars from her past that haunt her and made her who she is today. She claims Conrad doesn’t love her, but the pride in his eyes as he introduces her and shows her off makes me question that.
