Page 102 of The Heart of a Villain

“We are taught that we should just wait, and they will arrive, saving us from whatever enemy we have. We just have to be patient.” She glances back at the horizon. “Then we grow up and realize that no one is perfect and life consists of choices we all made, making us responsible for our own happiness.” She looks at me, drilling her stare into me. “And then we fall in love, and it becomes even more messy.”

“There are perfect love stories.”

“Yes, love stories with imperfect people.”

My heart squeezes inside my chest because I know where she’s leading with all this. She’s too compassionate to be anything else but supportive. Maybe she thinks this will free me from my guilt. “Mom, I spent mere days with him. He kidnapped me. What do I even know about relationships?” Although all these things are logical, I despise myself for summing up our entire relationship to just this, as if nothing that happened on the island really mattered.

“Funny thing about a heart? It doesn’t give a damn about right or wrong, good or evil, a prince or a villain.” She places her hand over mine on my mug. “Just the emotions this person inspires within us.”

“Well, I doubt confusion, anger, and hatred count as love.”

“Are these really the emotions you feel? Or do you think you have to feel that, out of obligation to me and your father?”

My palms sweat, my heartbeat speeds up, the bile rises in my throat while my father’s blood-smeared body pops into my mind, and I squeeze the mug so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crack. “His revenge hurt our family, Mom. How can I feel anything else?” I wipe away a single tear sliding down my cheek. “Dad—”

“In this world, I know better than anyone what it’s like to love a man everyone warns you to stay away from. And they were right.” She raises my chin so our gazes connect. “They don’t change. Darkness saved them, so they’ll never turn their backs on it. However, they do cherish with everything in them the women they love.”

“Mom—”

“Do you love him?”

Oh my God.

How do I answer that?

I should say of course not, that any infatuation I had with him was wrong and died the minute my dad’s heart stopped beating.

Only that would be a lie, and I can’t lie to my mom anymore, not when she reads me so well. “Yes. I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t control it.”

“Well, you’re my daughter after all. We are very stubborn when it comes to the bad boys.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. He left me.” I say this to reassure her that he won’t ever show up in our life again, but at the same time, the truth stabs me right into my soul.

God, can I be any more dramatic?

“If you believe that, then he must have really been nice to you.” My brows furrow at her cryptic and amused reply, as if she knows more about this than I do, but before I can dwell on it, she changes topics once again. At this point, Mom might give me whiplash! “What are your plans for tonight?”

“Nothing. Just reading a book.” I moved all my classes to next semester as well, so I don’t do much besides mope around the house all day long. “Why? Do you want to do something?”

“Have you checked the date?”

What?

And then it hits me.

Our friendship anniversary with the girls!

I groan inwardly at how cold I’ve been to them all this time. They surrounded me with love and understanding, visiting us constantly. I couldn’t tell them all the truth, though, not back then, with my wounds so fresh, and they finally got the hint because they stopped showing up.

That being said, I promised them that the yearly tradition would be happening. “I forgot about it,” I confess and put the mug aside, covering my face with my hands. “Ugh!”

“Elena dropped by earlier this week and asked for permission to celebrate it at the Dungeon.” Dad’s restaurant? The one everyone sought to enter, but we were never allowed to, due to the shows? The place doesn’t really have an age limit, but it was always an unspoken rule that you have to be at least eighteen to be let in. “I found the idea wonderful.” We both get up as she grabs my shoulder and her mouth curves into a smile while mischief plays in her eyes. “So have fun. I already bought the dress and the cake for tonight. All you need to do is take a shower.”

“Mom, thank you, but I can’t go.” Celebrating it at a quiet dinner at Elena’s place in New York would be one thing. But actually going out and enjoying the evening?

I don’t deserve it, not yet!

Mom palms my head, her thumbs running over my cheeks, and her voice drops a few notches, indicating she is dead serious and won’t change her mind. “You will go and have fun. My daughter will not be a prisoner in her own home.”

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