Page 7 of The Villain
“Now, Cassian, you know that won’t be possible,” Malek says, moving to the armchair across from mine and taking a seat, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee. “We don’t have access to that kind of money. When Alaric died?—”
“No?” Cassian asks, cutting him off. He takes in Malek’s casual stance. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit. “That’s a problem you’ll need to solve then, isn’t it? You are the brains behind the family now that Alaric’s gone, aren’t you? Michael here is lucky it’s just his wrist Ibroke. It’s a preview of what will come if I don’t have my money by the end of next week.” He glances at Michael when he says this, disdain in his tone.
“Cassian, be reasonable,” Malek says.
“Reasonable? Maybe Michael is too stupid to know, but you certainly aren’t, Malek. We’ve danced this dance before. It didn’t end well for the Moretti family then. It won’t end well for you now.” I wonder what he’s talking about when he steps toward Malek and kicks his foot. “Get the fuck up.”
Malek’s face darkens, but he’s no fool. He’s in dangerous territory and he knows it.
He gets up. He’s about four inches shorter than Cassian. He’s always the shortest man in the room and he’s always hated the fact. Cassian steps even closer, towering over him as if he knows it.
“You disrespect me,” Cassian says.
“Unintentional,” Malek says through clenched teeth.
“Can you do the math, Malek, or do you need a fucking calculator?” Cassian asks.
“Michael is inexperienced.”
“And that’s why you’re to guide him. Isn’t that the way of things? End of next week. Understood?”
Malek clenches his jaw. Cassian raises an eyebrow and Malek nods tightly once.
“Good.” Cassian steps toward the door and I think he’s going to leave. I can almost breathe again. But he stops and turns to look at me. Something in the way his eyes narrow and darken sends a strange, unfamiliar flush of heat through me. There’s fear. That Irecognize. But there’s something else. Something different beneath that fear. My hands grow clammy and sweat pools under my arms. I swear I can hear the thudding of my heart against my chest.
“I’ll need collateral in the meantime,” he says, both hands in his pockets now, jacket pushed back over that too-broad chest, a tattoo I hadn’t noticed earlier creeping up from beneath the collar of his shirt, ink along the side of his neck.
“Collateral?” Malek asks. I feel his and Michael’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away from Cassian. He’s got me trapped with those electric eyes.
“Collateral,” he says, and gestures to the soldier closest to me who understands his meaning and closes his hands over my arms. “Gently,” Cassian reprimands.
“Sir,” the soldier responds, his grip no gentler, and I’m pulled to my feet.
“What?” I ask, although I know, don’t I? I know what he means. What sort of collateral he’ll take. The place where my little finger used to be throbs. Panic washes through me. I force a deep breath in and tell myself to stay calm. This isn’t like that. It’s nothing like that.
“Put her in the room adjacent to mine.”
“Yes sir.”
“Cassian, be reasonable,” Malek starts, but Cassian isn’t reasonable. “I hardly think you need to take Allegra.”
“Wait!” I cry out but no one is listening to me. “You can’t!” I struggle to get free of the soldier but it’s no use. “Wait!”
Cassian comes to stand inches from me.
I crane my neck to look over his shoulder at my brother on his knees, Malek watching. Calculating.
Cassian takes hold of my jaw and makes me look at him. “They can’t help you, Little Moth.”
“Let me go!”
“Are you going to give me trouble?”
“You can’t just take me!”
“No? Do you prefer I take the little one sleeping upstairs? I wouldn’t want to scare him,” he says mockingly.
“You can’t do this!”
