Page 142 of The Heart of a Villain

“Where would we go anyway, Rush? Our life is here. When we die, we want to do it on this land among our family.”

My mouth curves in a smile while warmth fills my chest at the two men who devoted their lives to looking after us all, and no matter what destiny threw their way, they stayed loyal to us to a fault. They might not have always been right in their actions, but they tried and stuck around.

And that counts for something, right?

A family indeed.

The same goes for Jesse and Mark, who traveled the world for a year but then came back, deciding to stay and work for us. Jesse practically runs the household now, with the butlers as backup, while Mark handles the boats. They have two kids already, who play well with my daughter.

Grace’s voice pulls me back to the present as she wraps her hands around my thigh and tilts her head back. “Daddy, you need to hide,” she whispers, resting her cheek against me. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

My heart, the one I considered just an organ to pump my blood and nothing else a long time ago, contracts inside my chest while familiar wonder travels through my veins. And gentleness I never knew before sinks into me once again.

Because ever since the doctor placed this little bundle of joy in my arms five years ago, screaming her lungs out for being torn away from her cozy home inside her mama… I fell in love for the second time in my life and never looked back.

My little miracle that brightens up my already wonderful world, bringing me and my wife so much joy that happiness became a constant in this land. An emotion everyone spoke so highly of but one I never saw until I captured the princess from her father’s castle.

Turns out, no matter your past… to your daughter, you are always the hero with magical powers who can do anything.

My princess, Grace, who prefers to be called a lady pirate, is our hellion who has everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Everyone adores her, so whatever she wants, she gets, and I have no capacity to be strict with her. After all, how can I refuse her anything when she has her mother’s eyes?

At the thought of my beautiful wife, warmth travels through my entire system while possessiveness and satisfaction push to the surface, remembering how just this morning I woke her up with my mouth and proceeded to take her hard in our bed until she screamed in pleasure.

I proudly wear her marks on my back, most of the time walking around shirtless here so everyone knows who she belongs to and no one doubts that I’m hers.

Oddly enough, our obsession with one another only grew over the years, and the intensity of our relationship keeps us attached like opposite magnets seeking each other out constantly.

One of the reasons we rarely stay apart. Sleeping without her next to me became unbearable, and I don’t really give a shit what a sap that makes me.

After Lachlan gave us his blessing, we spent a week in bed in my apartment that I bought in New York, just marveling at the freedom of finally being with each other. That’s where I put a ring on her finger and asked her to marry me.

We got married one year after because that’s how long her mother needed to plan the wedding, and I will never forget watching my girl walk down the aisle to me, holding her father’s arm while her eyes shone with love.

By that time, Aileen graduated, and we moved back here. I renovated the mansion to make it perfect for my family and even hired a gardener to bring the property back to its former glory.

Darkness and gloomy memories no longer belong in my castle.

However, since Aileen decided to pursue her master’s degree and then work as a psychologist with children whose childhoods were difficult, we mostly travel back and forth. I ended up building her a house in New York, even though I prefer my island.

Because we don’t have to follow anyone’s rules but our own, and I can always kidnap my wife to the waterfall and make love to her in my cave.

Life is fucking good.

“Daddy!” Grace’s voice pulls me back, and I chuckle at the stubborn expression on her face along with annoyance that so much reminds me of myself.

Yes, she might look like her mother, but our daughter is a mini me in the making, which ends us both up in some hilarious situations, especially with my wife, who doesn’t know how to handle it all. “Yes, my darling?”

“You need to go away!” She waves at the horizon as the men give her a thumbs-up, indicating they loaded the weapons. “Enemies are close.” She taps her wooden sword. “I shall protect us, but I can’t be distracted. You need to leave.” She runs behind me and pushes me toward the cabin. “Quick!”

Ever since she saw some movie, she became obsessed with all things pirate and always creates these stories in her head that require me to build something for her to make it more believable.

Hence this boat with all the personally made toys, so she can really live out her fantasy, and all the people who work on the island play along, finding it hilarious.

But deep down, I know it’s because they adore her so much and love to see her running around happy, her laughter soaking the land that still heals from all the tragedies it has experienced.

“Are you sure those are intruders?” I ask her, and the pushing stops. She runs around to stare at me and blinks a few times. “Maybe it’s a friendly visit.”

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