Page 138 of The Heart of a Villain

Just imagining him saying I’m no longer his daughter kills me, and how pathetic is that?

I need to grow up, yet I still hold on to my childhood and want parental approval, when the only thing that should matter is my emotions about Rush.

Who I love with all my heart.

A harsh gust of wind slips inside, snapping me from my thoughts and billowing the white-as-snow curtains, and I curl my toes on the cold marble, shivering slightly as goose bumps erupt from the frigid air surrounding me.

The coldness matches that residing in my soul, and at this point, I don’t think anything has the power to warm me up.

They say first love destroys you in ways you’d never anticipate.

I guess they were right.

But I just never expected my first love to potentially destroy my family and my bond with Dad.

Another hoot sounds, accompanied by a bird loudly squawking and crickets chirping, as if announcing their presence to me so I will have no illusion about my location or pretend I’m back on the island.

Although my man visits me in my sleep, bringing me restless nights and painful aches that rock through my body, once again pointing out my loneliness and addiction that has no boundaries.

For the man I crave is forbidden.

Tightening my palm around the brush, I slide it down my hair one last time before placing it back on the table with a loud clatter and getting up from the vanity chair. I shift it back, and with a growl, I knock off the glass bottle of water, which hits the floor with a loud shattering noise as it breaks into tiny little pieces.

“Enough,” I whisper, fed up being told what to do and acting helpless.

All birds fly from their nest, so my turn has to come too. My family home shouldn’t feel like a prison.

Fisting the skirt of my bell-sleeved dress, I pad toward the open balcony door, letting the train of the dress trail after me, not caring about the liquid spread all over the floor or how my feet leave wet prints.

Stepping outside, I reach the railing and wrap my hands around the brick structure, allowing my gaze to sweep over the enormous property exposed to my view.

My childhood home, my sanctuary, a place that has so many dear memories and where I always felt safe, loved, and wanted.

A glass and golden cage.

I’m assailed by another blast of wind so hard I sway back a little.

The moon glows in the dark sky lit by the millions of stars that came out to join me in my misery, brightening up the area around me. Poets could endlessly write poems about our garden, as only beauty exists in it.

Neatly cut emerald grass blankets the never-ending acres surrounding the dark castle, with various bushes spreading over the grounds. Blooming roses and orchids peek through them, luring you along the property, where zigzagging paths lead to dangerous destinations. Several gorgeous statues carved out of polished marble glisten in the night, leaving you in awe of how alive they look. The few alcoves give a false sense of security, as if one could rest there and not expect anything bad to happen to him or her.

It’s so easy to get lost in the garden. Its beauty blinds a person to how truly deadly it is because monsters wait in the corner for the perfect moment to strike, to tear your flesh apart piece by piece.

If you are not careful enough, venom will be injected into your blood, then stream through your veins until it reaches your heart and makes it as dark as theirs.

Misery loves company while love dies with no goodness in sight.

I never understood how this garden truly represented my father and what he and my uncles do. Beautiful yet tortured monsters hungry for vengeance and blood.

A sense of doom weighs heavily all around me. It’s a hunting ground for those who dare to step inside.

Maybe that’s why hate sometimes seems like a more powerful emotion, keeping a person alive if the object of his or her rage exists somewhere, giving them strength to push toward their goal.

A goal that doesn’t mind a few casualties on its way to victory.

After all, no wars are won without the collateral damage of innocent souls.

And it looks like in this twisted fairy tale of their creation, I am one, and no one cares.

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