Page 37 of The Heart of a Villain

“Spoiled brat,” he bellows, lunging after me as I grab the knife, ready to stab him right in the stomach.

However, before his hand can connect with my flesh, Rush stands between us and catches his fist, covering it with his palm and squeezing so hard the man winces. When Rush pushes him, the old man stumbles.

“Rush,” he says in disbelief, but his son doesn’t even spare him a glance.

Instead, he palms my head, his green orbs roaming over my form as if searching for injuries, and he gently removes the knife from my death grip. “Are you all right?” Softness coats his voice, his thumb brushing over my cheek while fury still rocks him, judging by the glint in his eyes and rapidly beating heart. “He didn’t hurt you?” he prompts, and it finally snaps me out of my stupor, making me slap his hand away.

“Why do you care?” I mumble, not wanting to show this old man our complicated relationship, but at the same not letting what Rush did earlier slide either.

I’m a captive and a pussy, not good enough to give up revenge for, and yet he acts as if I’m precious to him.

“Because you’re mine.” I still at the possessiveness in his words, the heat sliding through my veins and awakening every nerve in my body, burning me from the inside out. “Lavender?”

Her hold on me loosens, but she’s still pressed to my back. “No needle.” My heart breaks at the evident fear. “No needle, please. No hysterics, no needle. Right?” The hope in her voice kills me. It means whenever this asshole shows up, she gets the needle, if she associates them.

Who wouldn’t have hysterics in the company of this guy, though?

Regret and pain flash on Rush’s face before he sends a warm smile his sister’s way. “Yes, darling. No hysterics, no needle.”

She claps behind me, giggling, and then jumps to the side before going to the table, sitting at the far end and munching on the waffle after pouring strawberry syrup and digging her fork in.

My stomach grumbles loudly at the sight of food, my cheeks heating up at it, but I half-turn, ready to bolt from the room. “I lost my appetite.”

Rush grips my elbow, halting my movements, and frowns. “You’re hungry.”

“If you think I will stay and eat with a man who just threatened me, then you have another think coming.” I rip my arm away from him, sending daggers his way. “I’m sure your staff will be nice enough to feed the captive in its cage.”

The deep satisfaction at my jab is short-lived when he ignores my last statement and instead repeats, “Threatened?”

A shiver rushes down my spine. Instinctively, I move away from him while darkness settles over his features, his eyes turning deep-emerald filled with retribution, promising hell on earth.

Then he addresses the man behind him, who watches us intently, his head ping-ponging between our interactions. “Uncle Jade.” Oh. Well, not the father then. “Come with me to my office.”

“You think I will—”

“Now.” I wince at the evenly and yet so loudly spoken word that sends fear into every cell in my body. “You will stay here and eat,” he says to me. Our gazes clash, and my soul weeps at the expression there, although my mind and heart are too bruised from the earlier encounter to acknowledge it. What’s good about his protection if he nullifies everything we’ve experienced? “No one will ever hurt or threaten you on my land.”

No one but him, apparently.

With this, he motions with his head toward the hallway, and his uncle grits his teeth, trying to kill me with his stare once again before following after his nephew as they leave to his office.

The minute they do, Jesse enters and exhales. “That was intense!” she whispers, coming closer to me and adjusting the apron on her uniform. “I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to approach you.” She shakes her head. “Stupidity is incurable.” She smiles at Lavender and grabs a plate, placing strawberries and blueberries on it and putting it next to her. “Your favorite, honey.”

“Yay!” Lavender claps again and pops one in her mouth.

Jesse beams and then picks up another plate, asking me, “Would you like waffles, pancakes, or eggs?”

“I’d like eggs with avocado, please,” I reply, and she nods at me, going to the side table holding various dishes, and fills up my plate. “So they have an uncle?”

I really hate exploiting this girl for information all the time, but she’s literally my only source.

“Yes. We don’t like him.” She whispers it so quietly I have to strain my ears to hear her. “We even make deals for who will serve the table while he’s around.”

The chair’s legs scrape the floor when I pull it back before sitting down close to Lavender, who grins at me, seemingly forgetting about her distaste for me.

Or what is the saying?

An enemy of my enemy is my friend.

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