Page 70 of The Heart of a Villain

After her distress over fake-ass friends, I bought a new canvas and painted the waterfall she loves so much on it with more details, wishing for her to have something beautiful to stare at in her room and always remember she doesn’t need anyone in order to shine.

Which is bizarre for me because no one inspires gentleness inside my stone-cold heart, and yet Lachlan’s daughter stirred something with her tears.

The elevator rings soundly on its arrival on the ground floor, and I step out into the hallway, marching to the reception desk and throwing the card on it. “Mr. Scott. It was nice seeing you again,” the receptionist says, and I nod at him—although inwardly hating being called by this family name.

Lachlan gave me his in order to create my new identity and for paperwork because I refused to share my real one with him.

However, even after all these years, I despise anyone addressing me by this surname, as it serves as a constant reminder that my birthright was stolen from me.

I was an heir, and instead of thriving with my family name and connections, I became an orphan bestowed the name of a man who saved my life.

I’m thankful for the honor, as Lachlan gave his name only to a very selected few. But they just don’t understand my emotions on the matter, since they never had families—at least any they remembered.

I did.

Drumming my fingers, I wait for the receptionist to type something, and then he puts a piece of paper in front of me to sign. “I hope everything was to your liking.” Quickly scratching my name on it, I slide it back, ready to leave, when he slaps his forehead. “Oh, I almost forgot. There is a man who wants to see you.” He points behind me. “He’s waiting right there on the couch.”

I turn around, and rage instantly fills me, every bone demanding vengeance while my eyes collide with cold green ones identical to mine, and I come face-to-face with my uncle.

My father’s twin.

He gets up, flipping back his suit jacket, and he grins, although it looks more like a grimace on his granite face. “Rush,” he says, his voice laced with awe. “You grew into a fine man, boy.”

The word awakens the instinct inside me that’s ready to tear up his flesh, as another loud voice yells it in my head—Jim’s, and the other men on the island, calling me that before inflicting their horrendous desires. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

For a second, his eyes flash a dangerous light, similar to the one I’ve seen on my victim’s faces. However, it’s so quickly gone I think I imagined it.

Besides, nothing indicated—from the various reports gathered on the man—that he even has a remotely vicious bone in his body.

After I turned fifteen and got access to my own laptop and space, along with some money Lachlan put in my account, I started searching for my family, fully intending to use whatever means necessary to find them. I still harbored hope, despite all the shit, that they cared and searched, even going so far as imagining our reunion. And part of me worried that maybe they hadn’t gotten to a safe harbor after all.

Turns out, I shouldn’t have worried about them at all, since our uncle took guardianship when Father dearest kicked the bucket. William and George still worked for him as well, although they weren’t allowed to live in the house and had to rent an apartment nearby.

He provided them with all the riches and luxuries this world has to offer, from a perfect education to mingling in high society.

With my fucking money at that, since I was still the heir apparently. According to family tradition, even if the firstborn is missing, they have to wait until he or she would’ve turned twenty-five to declare them dead and get their hands on the fortune.

I still remember how I broke the laptop after clicking on the video where Rafael celebrated getting into prestigious school to become a lawyer.

According to him—his childhood dream.

My siblings, but especially my twin, lived so fucking happily without me and didn’t even bother saving nor remembering me.

This told me everything I needed to know, and I decided to never contact them again. Lavender wasn’t guilty of the crime, since she was so little, but I didn’t want to disrupt her world. She seemed happy, based on all the photos.

However, a few months back, I made the mistake of going to Rafael’s graduation party in Boston when he passed the bar, and that’s when our gazes collided. I can still hear him screaming my name, trying to run after me while I ignored him.

Jade extends his hand, wanting to touch me, and this snaps me out of my memories. I grip his wrist and squeeze it so hard his face turns red, and he tries to snatch it back. “Don’t ever fucking touch me,” I warn him, tightening my hold on him and then letting go. He presses his hand to his chest, rubbing it while annoyance crosses his face. “I told you to stay away from me.”

Ever since I attended that graduation, Jade made it his mission to contact me, leaving message after message, urging me to reply to them, as he had some information he wanted to share.

He sighs. “You’re family, Rush. We all missed you so much. You have to come back to us.”

As if I give a fuck.

He should have found me when he had the chance.

And who is “us” anyway? Last time I checked, Rafael apparently had a huge-ass fight with this guy a decade ago and ran away from him. He tried to fight him in court for custody of Lavender, but of course, he lost.

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