Page 8 of The Villain
“Dignity, Allegra. It’s something your father had but your brother sadly did not inherit.” At the mention of my father I begin to wonder again at the accident that was too unbelievable. Was he killed? Was it this man, Cassian, who killed him? He had enemies. Many enemies. I know.
Cassian must feel the shift in me and softens his grip. “Better. I’ll ask you again, although I’m getting tired of repeating myself with you. One way or another, you’re coming with me. Are you going to give me trouble or are you going to walk out of here with your dignity intact?”
I shake my head then nod.
He raises his eyebrows as if he doesn’t understand my response.
“You’ll leave Amal and Daniel alone?” I ask.
“Are you bargaining with me?” He cocks his head. “Because you’re in no position?—”
“I’ll go with you! Just leave them alone!”
His eyes gleam with amusement. He’s enjoying this. But when he raises a hand, I flinch. Instinct. Hedoesn’t miss it. He takes a moment, turning his palm to me as if to say he won’t hurt me, but he will. I’ve danced this dance before too.
But then he does something strange. He brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, carefully, almost reverently. He leans close to me and is he inhaling my scent?
“I like a little fight, a little fire,” he starts, and that gentle hand at the back of my head morphs into something else. Fingers weave into my hair turning into a fist and my head is tugged backward. Tears sting the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to look away as he takes in my features. “Just know that I will always win, Moth.”
I open my mouth to retort, to say something, I’m not sure what, but he tugs, and I shut it again.
“If she gives you any trouble,” he starts, and although he’s looking at me, he’s very clearly talking to a soldier. “Put her in the crypt.”
The crypt? Where the hell are we going?
“Yes, sir.”
He leans toward me, his face so close I feel the scratch of stubble along my cheek as he brings his mouth to my ear. “I wouldn’t give them an excuse,” he whispers darkly. He straightens, releasing my hair, my scalp tingling. I stare up at him, hating him, hating his dominance, his power over me, but knowing to keep my mouth shut. But before we go, before I’m taken out of that room, he does something strange. He wraps his arms around me.
I’m confused, but then, a moment later, I realize what he’s doing when I feel a tugging, a snapping.
The wings. He’s broken them off.
He looks down at the delicate vellum wings in his hands then back at me. The grin he gives me sends ice down my spine and when I wrap my arms around myself at the sudden cold, he seems satisfied.
“Take her,” he commands.
2
CASSIAN
Idon’t linger after she’s gone. I’ve said all I came to say. Every set of eyes is on me as I walk out of what was once Alaric Moretti’s house, the crowd parting like the sea parted for Moses. The silence is heavy, our footfalls loud on hardwood and echoing off the vaulted ceilings. It’s as if they’re all holding their breath.
Angelo and Enzo fall in line beside me. “Unexpected twist,” Angelo says. Angelo is my uncle, my father’s brother. Enzo, his son, glances at his father but remains quiet. My cousin has always been the strong, silent type.
“I’m full of surprises, Uncle.”
Once outside, I watch the taillights of the SUV carrying Allegra Moretti disappear. Something shifts the moment the vehicle is out of sight. It’s subtle but it’s there, a nameless thing.
I came here tonight to deliver my message to Michael Moretti. I didn’t intend on taking his sister. I’d never given Allegra Moretti a thought before she walked into her father’s study. Before the moment she laid her fullweight against that door and exhaled like she’d been holding her breath for hours.
“You going to see your father?” my uncle asks.
I nod once, turn to face him.
“Let me know how he’s doing.”
“I will. Find out what you can about Malek Lombardi, will you?”
