Page 46 of The Villain's Captive (The Villain's Duet 1)

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It washard to put into words what I was feeling. There was no reason for me to feel gutted by the knowledge that my father was dead. I didn’t know him at all. I had never even seen a picture of him. But there was this dull ache in my chest. Disappointment, maybe. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, I had always hoped my father would one day just knock on the door, suddenly wanting to be a part of my life.

I cleared my throat, the wine already stirring a buzz in my veins. “Okay, so my father is dead. Where’s my grandfather? Gianni?”

Elijah dragged a hand through his hair, placing his wine glass down, rubbing his thumb and forefinger around the thin stem. “He’s in prison—a special prison for mafia informers in Northern Italy.”

“Oh, my God.” It was almost comical, the amount of irony I had been slapped with. An absent father who turned out to be dead, and a grandfather I never even thought about being stuck in prison. “You know what, I’m not even going to be upset over any of this.” I threw my hands in the air. “Just cut to the part where you tell me how all this affects me. Why you went from hitman, to stalker, to kidnapper.”

His dark brows drew together clearly, unamused, but I was one glass of white wine past giving a rat’s ass.

Elijah stood from his seat and removed his gray jacket, placing it over the chair, and started to roll up his dress shirt sleeves. Of course, all my attention had to drift to his arms—strong arms I had felt around me, the taut muscles and bulging veins covered with flawlessly tanned skin.

“James, would you mind throwing me a glass of whiskey? And bring the bottle too.”

James nodded, and Elijah sat back down waiting for his drink. The ice clinked against the crystal as he took a large sip and placed it back down.

I crossed my legs under the white oak dining table. “What is it?”

“What?”

“Whatever you’re about to tell me.” I gestured toward his whiskey. “Clearly, it’s one hell of a bomb you’re about to drop on me since you need liquid support to do it. Just tell me.”

For the longest time, his gaze lingered on mine. It was like a sea of secrets and mysteries, a vortex of all the darkest parts he tried to hide.

“A year before you mother died, Gianni turned himself in.”

“Why would he do that?”

Elijah weaved his fingers together on his lap. “He turned himself in, hoping he could strike a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“A deal that would protect…you.”

“Me?” Confusion dropped like dead weight around my shoulders, my thoughts suddenly eerily quiet. “Why would he want to protect me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“The day your grandfather found out about your mother’s cancer, plans had been put in motion.”

“What plans?”

“Plans to ensure that you wouldn’t be alone.”

“Why now? After all these years, he suddenly cares about me now?”

“Everything he’s done, he did to protect you.”

I shot to my feet. “You expect me to believe a man who has never worried about me or my mother in the past now suddenly made this huge fucking sacrifice to protect me?” My heart was beating so damn fast, I was sure James could hear it from across the room.

“Sit down, Charlotte.”

“No. I won’t sit down.”

He darted up, and slammed his hands on the table, cutlery and glasses shaking and rattling like his anger had just become an earthquake. “Sit. The fuck. Down.”

He tilted his head, eyes filled with warning. All it took was a simple glare, a brief scowl, and I cowered under his silent authority, slowly easing back into my seat. I hated that he had this kind of power over me, as if he owned me. Like I was his fucking lapdog who would obey his every command.

Elijah’s expression remained hard and unreadable as he slowly sat back down. “Are you ready to listen, or are you planning on throwing another temper tantrum?”

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