Page 47 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

“I’m not a child.”

“Then stop acting like one and fucking listen.”

“I am listening. It’s not my fault nothing you say makes any sense.”

He scoffed and diverted his gaze across the room. “I knew you’d be hard to tame.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m not a goddamn animal who needs taming, Elijah. And frankly, I don’t even know if I need to hear all of this. I spent my whole life surviving without a father or a grandfather, and I’m still alive and breathing. So, my guess is I don’t need this mysterious grandfather who just decided to pop up out of fucking nowhere.”

He scoffed, the vein in his neck throbbing. “He was always there, Charlotte. You just never saw him. How the fuck do you think your mom was able to pay the bills? Do you think her half-decent wage from being in an orchestra was enough to put you through school, pay for a roof over your heads, and have food on your goddamn table every day?”

“I’m well aware that her job didn’t pay well,” I spat out, “but we received monthly payments from my—”

“—grandmother’s life insurance?”

My heart turned inside out, pounding against my throat. I could feel all the blood in my body drain to my cheeks.

“Your mother came from a low-income family, Charlotte. Do you really think they could afford life insurance?”

My entire world spun off its axis, like I got sucked through a giant vortex of lies and deceit. As if I had lived a life that was never really mine.

“It was him,” I murmured.

“He sent the money pretending it was coming from some bullshit life insurance company so there was no trace back to him.”

I fell back in my seat, dropping my gaze to the barely eaten seabass on my plate. The sight and smell of food suddenly made me sick to my stomach while I struggled to digest everything Elijah was throwing at me.

“Now, may I continue, or can I expect more rude interruptions from you?” His condescending tone pissed me off, but I was big enough to admit when I was cornered, and nodded reluctantly.

“Good.” He leveled me with his stare. “Gianni turned himself in to protect you, hoping the deal he struck would grant him a new identity, and then he’d be able to”—he pressed his lips in a thin line, clearly searching for the right words—“be a part of your life without having to constantly look over his shoulder.”

I narrowed my eyes, my head about to snap in fucking half as I struggled to grasp the magnitude of what Elijah was telling me. “So, surrendering, this deal he made was because he wanted to be in my life?” Disbelief dripped from my every word. “My grandfather is stuck in a prison somewhere because of me?”

Elijah shook his head. “Not because of you…for you. He didn’t want to repeat the same mistake he made with your father. He wants to know you, Charlotte. He wants to be there for you in ways he can’t if he’s still Gianni Guerra. His past sins won’t allow it.”

“Jesus.” I pulled my palms down my face, not knowing whether I wanted to cry or scream. Maybe a little bit of both, but my insides crawled, as if I would jump out of my skin at any moment. “Which prison?” I asked without looking at him.

“A prison that protects mafia informers. He was hoping he’d be out by now, but unfortunately, it seems there’s a lot of shit happening behind the scenes, and it delayed the process.”

“What things?”

“I can’t be sure.” Elijah’s expression darkened as a heaviness descended around us, the air almost too thick to breathe. “But Gianni has enough information to lock away a lot of bad people for ten fucking lifetimes.”

And like a fucking mudslide of fifty-ton boulders, it hit me. It struck me right in the gut, leaving me breathless and ice fucking cold. “And that’s why I need protection,” I whispered, my every muscle numb. “Back in New York, someone was trying to…kill me?”

Elijah didn’t move. He didn’t even blink, giving me nothing to confirm what I was saying was right. But he didn’t need to. I knew I was right. Pieces of the puzzle were starting to slip into place, and yet, the more I placed together, the more distorted the picture became.

Elijah shot back the rest of his whiskey, cringing as he slammed the glass down on the table, still not giving me an answer. God, he could hardly look at me.

“So, this means all these bad people, they know about me, that I’m Gianni’s granddaughter?”

His shoulders rose as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah.”

“And now they want me dead, to what? Keep my grandfather from talking?”

“Oh, no. They know if they kill you, Gianni will sing like a motherfucking bird to every goddamn press and journalist who will listen. No,” he shook his head, “they don’t want to kill you, Charlotte. They want to use you as collateral. As long as they have you, they know Gianni won’t talk.”

Ice pierced my chest. “So, my grandfather is the informer, and I’m the surety these people need to keep him quiet.”

Elijah nodded, his eyes reflecting a sliver of sympathy.

“And you?” I toyed with my thumb cuticles on my lap. “Who are you supposed to be in this war?”

With his nostrils flaring, jaw clenched, and every ounce of air sucked out of the room, Elijah placed a hand on the table, tapping his finger. “I’m the man who owes your grandfather a debt. And kidnapping you, bringing you here…is me paying that debt.”

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