Page 90 of Always A Villain
Footsteps. The scrape of a door, a slice of light that barely cuts through the dark. I squint, straining to make sense of the shadows, but all I can see are walls trapping me in.
“Hello, Victoria.”
An Italian-accented voice. Calm, mocking. Ice floods my veins as dread crawls up my throat.
No. No, it can’t be him.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, and now that it’s here...” He lets out a slow sigh. “I have to say, it’s not nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be.”
A flickering yellow light floods the room. My eyes adjust, and when I finally see his face, the world tilts. Dark black hair, cold dark eyes, a smug smile twisting his mouth. His face is older but unmistakable.
I freeze, every muscle locked tight as he stares down at me.
“On the floor, drugged. I expected better for our reunion,” he says with a slow shake of his head.
I try to scream, but the gag silences me.
“You’ve been a real nuisance, you know that, Victoria? Your mother’s foolish actions had consequences. And now...you’ll be the one paying the price.”
Tears blur my vision as he kneels, his cold eyes never leaving mine. He reaches out, fingers grazing my cheek. His touch is a sickly caress that turns my stomach.
“You’ve grown,” he murmurs, eyes raking over me with sick approval. “Not sure what I expected, but...I’m not disappointed. Your mother was beautiful, and you...” he trails off, fingers brushing the hair from my face, sliding down my neck. “Last time I saw you, you were just a screaming little girl. So much has changed.”
He keeps his cold hand there, his thumb pressing against my throat.
I can’t breathe, can’t move, trapped under his gaze, his touch.
He’s here—he’s really here—and he’s touching me.
“Shame Marco couldn't be here to see this, but he's long gone,” he sneers, his smirk stretching into something devious. I wrench at the gag, managing to shove it loose until it falls from my mouth.
“You,” I spit, my throat burning.
“Me,” he mocks.
“You killed my mother!”
He laughs—a low, daunting sound that chills the blood. “Is that what you think? Oh, Victoria. That’s not even the half of it.”
“Why?” My voice cracks as I push back, wrists straining painfully against the ropes. “Why did you do it?”
He shrugs, dismissive. “I didn’t kill your mother. She was already dead by the time we got there.”
“No. No!” Tears spill down my cheeks as I tremble.
“Your mother was a fool. Marrying Conrad was her fatal mistake. I told Marco to end things with her, warned him...but he was always the sentimental type.”
“Who the hell are you?”
“I'm your uncle, Antonio DeLuca.” His tone is matter-of-fact, as if this news means nothing.
My head swims, nausea rising inside my throat. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you belong to the Dolore now. The man you call Father, Conrad, is not your father. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now, you’re right where you should be.”
“No!” I thrash against the ropes, screaming until myvoice grows hoarse. “Liar! You’re a fucking liar!” Anger floods me, heating my blood. “You killed my mother! I remember everything.”
“Your mother made a mistake. A mistake that cost her everything, including her life.” He sneers. “Conrad—he’s the one who killed her, not us.”
