Page 95 of The Heart of a Villain

But I’m so exhausted numbness threatens to push to the surface, and my sheer will alone grounds me in the present, ordering me to stay focused on survival.

“Maybe I should leave some scars on this pretty face, so even during your funeral—should your body ever be found—your family will see my signature on you.”

Swallowing past the bile in my throat, I finally find the strength to play yet another game on this island. “Your brother. He was not kind to you.” I barely manage to keep the disgust from my tone, since I can’t imagine anyone willingly being kind to him. “He didn’t understand you.” The sword heading my way pauses midway at the abrupt change of subject, and I raise my eyes to him, seeing surprise on his features. “He was too selfish.”

“Yes. Always the heir. The best at everything. Our father valued accomplishments above anything else. Joaquin didn’t even have to try. He was naturally gifted at everything.” He paces to the side while I hectically search for some weapon, like a heavy rock or something, while shifting a little to the left, giving myself more space in case he decides to drag me to the edge of the waterfall.

The water cascading down hums soundly as wind slams into me, the coldness popping goose bumps on my skin while dark clouds still occupy the sky.

It must have rained here, and droplets still lightly fall on the ocean, which only depresses me more.

Because if the rain came and went during all this time, how far away did he take me?

And more importantly, will Rush and Dad have time to get here?

I shake my head from the desperation and concentrate on positive thoughts, as hope is the only thing keeping me alive right now.

“I wasn’t bad but not the best. So Daddy dearest never noticed me much. It was me who had to watch my twin be praised every day. Me who had to live with the knowledge that all our fortune would belong to him. Me who had to accept everyone’s love toward him, and him believing he was above everyone else,” he snarls the last part. “And I took it all.”

“Until you couldn’t?”

The magnitude of his resentment was strong, yet I don’t think he was a psychopath at birth or showed violent tendencies. He participated in evil through third parties, never dirtying his hands in blood except when it came to Rush’s mother. These are more the qualities of a man who never had power and craved to get it no matter the cost.

Something, though, triggered him into turning to the dark side, the one that eats away the soul and leaves nothing but hollowness inside.

The side from which there is no way back.

“We went to different colleges. He studied in Boston, while I chose Los Angeles. It was finally heaven on earth. All the attention belonged to me, and I was actually liked just for being me, without my twin’s shadow constantly hovering over my head.”

I freeze when he puts the blade under my chin and lifts it so I look at him.

“That’s where I met her. My Olivia.” He swings his sword back and forth, while I spot a rock nearby and subtly shift farther to the left as he gazes into the distance, as if in a trance. “Beautiful. Young. Naïve. She went there on a scholarship and was the softest soul you could have ever met.”

“She sounds like a lovely person,” I mutter, shifting a little bit again.

“Yes, she was everything pure and always smiled in my company. We were friends, and I loved watching her read or paint. I was about to ask her on a date, when Joaquin showed up.”

Oh no.

Olivia was the trigger that sent a deadly shot to his psyche.

“He had some bullshit tickets for a cruise, inviting me to go, and that’s when they saw each other. By the look in her eyes, I knew I lost her. She too picked him over me.” Anger coats his voice while he stabs the sword into the ground, pressing hard while I move to the side again, wincing when splashes of water bring his attention back on me, and he frowns. “Stay put,” he orders, placing the sword at my stomach, the sharp tip nipping my skin.

Fear swirls around me, but I push out, “She hurt you.” Licking my dry lips, I add, “Betrayed you.”

“Yes. She proved to be just like everyone else. Wanting the better version of this face.” He motions at himself. “They got married shortly after and had those stupid boys who look exactly like him.” He spits on the ground. “Hated them since they took their first breaths. Several times arranged for them to be kidnapped, but their father guarded them like a hawk, so it was impossible.” Sadistic laughter erupts from him.

“I won anyway. His wife and kids ended up with me. Using the funds from all my trafficking rings was the highlight of my life. I was a king there.” The smile drops from his mouth, and he glides the sword up to my collarbone. “And the only thorn in my side was Lachlan and his crew.” He huffs in annoyance. “Monsters who think they have a heart just because they help those in need. Entitled fuckers, and yet they won every single time!”

Go, fam.

I hide the smile threatening to appear and instead frown.

“After the fire, I hoped Rush died and gave this island to a friend. Since according to paperwork, Joaquin was still alive, I could do whatever.” Darkness settles on him, and the energy around us changes to absolute cold, indicating his swift change in mood. “The little fucker survived, though, and Lachlan got his hands on him. Left me no choice but to die as his father and come back as the uncle. Otherwise, he wouldn’t listen to me. I had to wait once again and then finally got my chance.”

He chuckles. “My plan became even better. Quite poetic, isn’t it? A boy who Lachlan saved and raised, used to kill him? It would have proven once and for all that there is no goodness in the likes of them, who can’t be fucking cured or controlled with all his teachings.”

“Everyone knows the truth now,” I whisper, clearing my throat. “They know you are at fault. Your plan failed.”

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