Page 25 of The Villain's Beloved (The Villain's Duet 2)

An unfamiliar voice answered. “Sir?”

“Is it done?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’re here.”

The phone call ended, and Elijah parked the car, switching off the engine before getting out. I leaned over. “Elijah—”

My door flung open, and he reached out his hand. “Come on.”

“Are we?” I was dumbfounded. “Are we going in here?”

“Not if we stand out here all night. Get out of the car.”

I lifted the hem of my dress so I wouldn’t step on it as I took his hand, getting out of the car. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” In awe, I kept my gaze on the building, the grandiose structure appearing alive against the backdrop of night, the moon casting an elegant hue across the massive architecturally complex building.

“What are we—” I turned to find Elijah staring at me, his eyes soft, gentle, as if admiring something he had never seen before. I stilled. “What are we doing here?”

He took my hand, the expression on his face unreadable. “Finding another reason.”

“Wha—”

“Just come with me.” He led me toward the building, the early winter chill wrapping its cold tendrils around me, making me shiver.

The exterior of the building consisted of numerous triumphal arches which aesthetically made the building seem less bulky. The triumphal arches reflected the spoils and riches for the crowd it was originally built for. And walking through them, glancing around and taking in the magnificent stone and architecture, I could practically feel the energy of the crowds that used to gather here to watch the gladiators, hunters, and the numerous blood sports that took place right here in this very arena.

“I literally have no words.” I gaped at everything around me, finding it impossible to take it all in. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the kind of magic that lingered in these corridors. The history. The stories these walls could tell. Do you think there—” I paused at the sight of the cello leaning against a chair which stood beneath one of the arches. “What is this?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” Elijah traced a finger along the neck of the cello, his other hand tucked into his pants pocket. “I want you to play. Here,” he waved his hand around, “in one of the most magnificent amphitheaters in the world.”

“Elijah. This is…I don’t have words.”

“Good. You don’t need words.” He picked up the cello and held it out to me. “All you need is music.”

I glanced around. “Are we alone here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know I can’t—”

“Stop saying you can’t, and just play, Charlotte. For once, stop giving a fuck about what other people think, and just do what you want to do.”

We stood there, eyes locked and hearts beating, this indescribable pull between us pulsing like a life source.

I took the cello from him, holding my breath, hoping the haunting pain wouldn’t ruin the moment. But it didn’t, and I let out a sigh of relief as I picked up the bow, loving the feel of it in my hands. The chair creaked as I sat down, lifting the skirt of my dress over my knees. Elijah’s gaze cut to my legs, lingering for a moment before he looked me in the eye again. I removed my shoes, wanting to feel the ground beneath my feet, and I straightened my back—a firm posture, yet my body relaxed.

The neck of the cello rested against my shoulder, my heart already feeling its weight beneath my chest. The pine scent of resin allowed my mind and body to tune in to this majestic instrument—a colossal beacon in my life just like this ancient building was to the world.

Leaning my head to the side, I let out a breath as that brief moment of silence ensued—the time where I found peace from every storming thought, every worry, and every doubt.

I brushed my fingers along the strings, feeling it beneath my fingertips, allowing the music in my soul to flood through me so I could set it free.

I didn’t know what I would play until that very second I eased the bow across the strings and the sound slowly, gently started to move me.Edelweiss. It was the composition my soul demanded, and it flowed down my spine, the deep yet soft sound reaching inside my chest. The music within me escaped, echoing off the strings as I continued to ease the bow. As I moved my fingers up and down the neck of the cello, the vibrato kept me here instead of sweeping me away as it always did. The sound, the harmony, it allowed me to stay right here, with him. Elijah. The man I could feel in my veins, my blood calling out to him as the music grew stronger, the cello and I moving as one. The crescendo ignited, and this was always the moment when I laid my dreams at my feet, baring it all to the world—but this time it was different. The resonating tenor cleared my mind, and I realized this time there was no dream to stem from the magic of music because…I opened my eyes…my dream was standing right there.

I stopped playing, my eyes pinned on Elijah, who stared at me as if I was his last hope. There was no darkness in his irises, no malicious intent splayed on his expression as he regarded me.

“I love you, Charlotte.” He stepped closer. “I’ve loved you since that day I heard you play this same song. I might be a monster in this world,” he held out his hand, and I took it, standing up, “but I want to be a colossus in yours.”

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