Page 48 of Rogue Villain

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I sit up in my bed, glancing around with a grimace, spotting my discarded Calvins on the floor by the ensuite door.

I sigh heavily, remembering how I’d strode from her room straight to my shower to jerk off, something I’ve not done in literally decades. The fact that I’d come in under thirty seconds like an untried teen…

Her wide gray eyes fill my vision. That citrus fragrance that’s intrinsically her hangs heavily in the air. Peals of her intoxicating laughter haunt my ears while the memory of her pale, delicate skin beneath my fingertips combine to ensnare my senses almost entirely. Leaving me hungry to know the answer to one question.

What does she taste like?

The thought makes my cock jump to attention beneath the sheets as I envision worshipping her body until she’s crying from pleasure overload.

But fuck, it’s more than that.

I’d sit contently in her mere presence—looking, not touching—for as long as she’d allow, purely to soak up every ounce of peace and happiness she brings to me. Each particle of light she shines onto my broken soul.

And that’s why she’s got to go.

I shake my head in disgust and get up, despite the obscenely early hour, knowing instinctively what I need to do today.

Something I’ve been subconsciously putting off for far too long now.

Getting rid of Wren.

My chest tightens, and I rub away the discomfort with my free hand as I text Ford.

ME

I’ll be AWOL today. Watch Wren. Anything happens to her, and I’ll put your balls in a vise-grip.

Without waiting for a reply, I quickly dress in dark jeans and a charcoal knitted sweater, grabbing the spare key for the art studio I know Wren hasn’t accessed since her arrival.

I scribble a note quickly, drop it into an envelope alongside the key, and leave it on the kitchen island before ordering a huge breakfast from Luciano’s. I know from my observation that Wren normally wakes around 9 a.m., so I leave instructions to have it delivered at ten minutes to the hour.

It’s barely turned 7 a.m. when I slide into my black Bugatti Chiron in the parking garage below Rogue, but even so, the streets of Tribeca are bustling.

The car eats the road, arriving in South Brook just under two hours later. My first stop is Joseph Fratelli, who looks ecstatic to see me when I’m directed to his desk.

He lifts his head from the mountain of paperwork before him, a slow smile spreading across his face that I can’t help but mirror.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you came sniffing around, V.”

I shrug as he takes my hand in a firm handshake. “I’d have been here sooner, but I’ve had my work cut out for me, reining in the house guest you saddled me with.”

He barks a laugh. “She’s really quite something, isn’t she!”

A vision of her smile flashes before my eyes, and I squeeze my eyes shut, dispelling the image before it’s even fully formed. My noncommittal grunt garners a set of narrowed eyes as Jo rounds his desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair as he goes.

“I’m assuming you’re here to check out the…” He lowers his voice as he glances around at his colleagues. “Crime scene.”

I open my mouth to reply, but he grips my upper arm. “Not here. The walls have ears.”

My strides match his as I follow him from the building. He stops, spotting my Bugatti parked by the curb. “Yours, I take it?”

I toss him the keys, and he catches them with a wide grin. “I don’t usually share my toys, Jo.” I pin him with narrowed eyes. “Treat her with the reverence she deserves, and we won’t have any issues.”

He snorts as he slips behind the wheel. “I should have stuck with you and Renzo instead of trying to make a difference.”

I slide into the passenger seat as he frowns. “Little did I know, huh?”

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