Page 37 of The Villain's Beloved (The Villain's Duet 2)

“If it’s not me, then who?”

Saint pulled up his shoulder as if warding off the cold, his expression sullen. “It’s him they want. Elijah. He’s the target, not you.”

“What?” My voice was nothing but a whisper.

“Elijah knows too much about what Gianni did for the family. Julio Bernardi wants Elijah killed before his dad’s trial.” His jaw clenched. “Elijah is a loose end they’ve been trying to tie up ever since Gianni died. Hell, there’s even talk that Gianni’s death was planned to look like a drunken brawl.”

My heart sank to the soles of my feet, my stomach twisted into a thousand painful knots. I was sure the ground cracked beneath my feet, swallowing me whole. “Why would Elijah lie about that? Why would he say I’m the target when it’s him they want?

He bit his lower lip. Clearly, whatever it was, he was having a hard time putting it into words.

“Saint.”

“Elijah is…well—” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Elijah is not…himself.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have all the specifics. I didn’t think this was a problem anymore since it’s been years—”

“Saint, what are you talking about?”

“I knew something was off when James informed me that Elijah had brought you to the yacht. Elijah never does anything that’s not part of the plan. And you,” his gaze cut to mine, “you weren’t part of our plan, Charlotte.”

“What plan?” Jesus, my head was spinning.

“The plan to have Elijah hide from the Bernardi family until we got it taken care of.”

“Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to pass out. Nothing is making any goddamn sense.”

Saint grabbed my arms, pinning me with a glare that screamed warning. “Listen to me. Elijah was in that car.”

“What car?”

“The car, with his dad.”

I narrowed my eyes in question. “He was with his father during the accident?”

“Yes.” Saint let me go, and my legs almost gave way beneath me. “He was small, five or six, I’m not sure. All I know is he was in that accident and barely made it out alive himself.”

“Elijah never mentioned this.”

“He wouldn’t have, because according to Elijah…he never was in that car.”

My pulse raced. “What?”

Saint licked his lips and inched closer. “Elijah doesn’t remember anything about the accident. He doesn’t remember being in the car with his dad.”

“Oh, my God. Elijah has amnesia?”

“Or something.” He pulled his hand through his hair, grabbing the ends. “I honest to God thought this was all in the past. His father, Ellie—”

“His sister?”

Saint’s pained gaze met mine, the despondent expression on his face sending chills through every bone in my body. “You know about Ellie?”

“He told me about her. How she disappeared, not knowing whether she was still alive or dead.”

“Jesus Christ,” Saint cursed before settling his sullen gaze on me. “He didn’t have a sister, Charlotte. Ellie doesn’t exist. She never has.”

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