Page 13 of The Villain
Angelo: Good you got to see him. I’ll go over tomorrow during the day. Visit with him.
Me: Thanks. I’d appreciate that. Probably prefers to see you anyway.
The three little dots on his end start their dance, but disappear for a moment. Then they’re back.
Angelo: That’s the disease, Cassian. You know that.
It’s not wholly the disease, but I let it go. I appreciate my uncle’s thoughtfulness.
Me: You’re right. Let me know how it goes tomorrow.
Angelo: Will do. Night.
I cross the room to the door that adjoins my bedroom with the smaller one and reach up to run my fingers over the frame for the key. Quietly, I slip it into the lock and turn it. The door opens without a sound. This room is cooler than mine. It hasn’t been used in a while and takes a while to heat up. No one stays over. Vivi did for a few weeks, but that was more than two years ago when Seth disappeared. She was still pregnant then.
I push the thoughts of my brother and his family away and step into the small bedroom with its queen size bed, its neutral furnishings. But when I see my Little Moth kneeling on the floor by the door, her back to me, I realize what that scraping sound was. I almost chuckle, but not yet. I watch her for a moment instead.
She’s tiny in this old room with its vaulted ceilings and high arched door. Seeing her like that makes me remember how her brother grabbed her. Makes me realize just how vulnerable she is.
I shake my head to clear the thought, though. She’s not here to be another problem for me to solve. She’s here for reasons I can’t quite explain. Collateral, officially, but unofficially? Perhaps to entertain me while I wait for her brother to return my money? Definitely to keep my bed warm.
And watching her unobserved as she tries her jail break? She’s definitely going to be entertaining.
I grin.
She’s so intent on her work that she doesn’t hear me as I cross the room in my bare feet.
“Shit,” she mutters to herself, and I watch as she sits back on her heels and studies the lock for a moment. A hairpin is sticking out of it. Stuck. Well, what did I expect? A good little victim? She’s the Moretti Mafia princess, after all.
I take the last few steps soundlessly as she struggles to get the jammed pin out of the lock. She must feel me at the last moment because she stiffens. I reach over her and close my hand over hers.
The instant I do, she gasps audibly.
I lean down, inhale the scent of jasmine in her shampoo.
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t turn her head. Doesn’t even try to pull away, not yet. She just stares straight ahead at the hand covering hers and I can imagine the pounding of her heart at being caught.
“Going somewhere, Little Moth?”
3
ALLEGRA
Ilook at the huge hand that’s covering mine. Cassian Trevino’s hand. Cassian Trevino who has somehow materialized out of thin air. How did he get in here without my hearing him?
His skin is warm, but calloused and although he’s not hurting me, I remember what he did to Michael. How he snapped his wrist and brought him to his knees with these very hands.
I need to keep that visual front and center. Remember that for all his beauty—because he is beautiful—this man is brutal.
“Well, Moth?”
I glance over my shoulder to see the door that was locked when I tried it earlier now standing open. Of course. He’d told the guard to put me in the room adjacent to his. That must be his bedroom.
“My name isn’t Moth,” I say, not looking at him just yet. Not quite ready for that.
“Your name is what I say it is. Stand up.” He speaks calmly, his voice low and controlled.
I don’t move. Instead, I try to pull my hand free, but he doesn’t let me. My heart is pounding so hard against my chest there’s no way he doesn’t hear it.
