Page 40 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

“It wasn’t me,” she cried while trying to get away from him. But he grabbed her by her ponytail and yanked her back, causing her to cry out in pain.

My insides exploded, rage swallowing my fear. “Let her go!” I yelled, kicking while his fingers tightened around my throat. But I cared more about getting Ellie away from him than I did about my next breath.

“Aww,” Roland mocked, his fat face that of pure evil. “Look at you, all protective over little sis. What the fuck do you think you can do with that bony ass of yours? You couldn’t even protect a goddamn fly if you tried.”

“Mom!” I called. “Please, stop him.”

I scratched at his hand, clawing at his skin. But he didn’t even flinch, and Mom didn’t move. She just stood there, a miserable void.

Ellie’s cries pierced my ears, and I watched helplessly as Roland pulled her tiny body up by her ponytail and threw her against the wall like she was nothing but a ragdoll.

“Ellie!”

She didn’t move.

“Ellie!” I cried. “Ellie, get up.”

Nothing.

“Ellie! Mom, help her! Help her, please!”

Mom merely glanced from me to where Ellie lay eerily still. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong.

The empty beef jerky packet slipped from the bed and onto the floor, right in front of Roland’s feet.

“You little shits were stealing food as well?” He lifted me, my feet dangling from the floor while his hold tightened, my lungs crying out for air. “You’re nothing bust wasted fucking space. You better hope your sister is dead, because if she isn’t…I have a friend who would love to take her off my hands.” He cackled like a maniac, and my thoughts went quiet and body numb. “And believe me, she’ll be better off dead.”

“Please,” I whispered, the edges of my sight dimming, growing darker. “Don’t…hurt…”

It went black.

“So, why the bodyguard?”Charlotte gestured toward James, who sat by the bar, back turned toward us and out of ears’ reach.

“Precaution.”

“Why?”

“James is the head of security of one of the most powerful men in Italy.”

“This friend you mentioned?”

I nodded. “Marcello Saint Russo. He has eyes and ears everywhere, which is exactly what we want right now.”

I glanced in James’ direction, specifically at the cellphone placed on the marble countertop next to his hand. If that phone had to ring, it would be to signal that shit was about to hit the fan, and our plan B would be compromised…and we’d be fucked.

Charlotte glanced around, her gaze soaking up the pristine interior surroundings of a yacht with a fifteen-million-euro price tag.

“If you think this is impressive,” I waved around, “wait until you see the outside.”

She bit her lip and dropped her gaze, staring down at her fingers in her lap. So innocent. Naïve. Unsullied by the tainted riches this world offered in return for your fucking soul.

I watched Charlotte from across the table, something I was fucking good at. She could be stubborn, act strong, appear resilient, but her face reflected her genuine emotion. It was there in the way she’d suck on her bottom lip when she felt insecure. The way her eyes would change from sky-blue to sapphires when she got excited, and how her cheeks would glow a resplendent pink when she was shy…or aroused.

Behind her defiance, her fight was a delicate soul and a fragile heart. So easily breakable. For the coldhearted bastard side in my dark soul, who liked to break things, her fragile existence was a temptation that plagued me. I wanted to know how far she’d bend before she broke, how strong her mind could be before it shattered. But there was a different part in me I had long forgotten, a sliver of my humanity her beauty and innocence had reminded me of—a part which grew stronger the more I lingered around her.

When she cried into my chest earlier, breaking in my arms, it felt foreign having someone search for comfort from me. The last time anyone needed any type of solace by being close to me was the night Ellie had snuck into my room and snuggled up behind my back for the last time. I remembered how annoyed I was with her over waking me after I had cleaned two of the neighbors’ yards that day. Little did I know that would be the last night my little sister slept beside me.

I opened my eyes and immediately knew it wasn’t my room when I looked up at the ceiling. This one didn’t have clots of dried paper stuck to it, paper I’d chew and shoot through a straw whenever I was bored.

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