Page 17 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

As if I had. My common sense told me I should have sent her away the moment I saw all the blood, but it was the fire in her eyes that kept me from doing so. She’d killed a man. I didn’t know if Ari felt any remorse for it or how it had affected her. I hadn’t asked. Maybe I should. Her well-being was my priority now.

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

“Not right now. I did everything you asked me to last night.”

“I have a list of things I need you to acquire for her. Make sure you pick it up from the kitchen table before you leave.”

“Okay,boss.”

I heard his footsteps as he walked away. Arlo knew his way around my house. He could see himself out. I stood there staring at my desk until the front door slammed shut. Then I returned to Ari, who I found had tear tracks running down her face. The sight of it made me pause in the doorway. She wasn’t making any noise. Her little fists were balled up in her lap and she was still kneeling where I left her.

Is this too much for you, Tink?

“Why are you crying, my little fairy?”

My voice was soft so as not to startle her. It’s not like I didn’t know how to be gentle. I just had no need to be when I was surrounded by the worst of society. I could be gentle towards her… if she behaved for me.

“I killed my uncle.”

He deserved it.

“Do you regret it?”

She shook her head. I took a step closer.

“Are your tears for him?”

Another head shake.

“For yourself?”

She wiped her eyes and nodded before looking away.

I need to pry what actually happened out of her, but not now. She’s not ready.

“I see.”

“Do you?” she whispered. “Have you killed someone?”

More like someones. I had blood all over my hands. Hard not to with the life I’d been born into. I preferred dealing with things in a civilised fashion where I could rather than resorting to violence to get the job done. That’s what I had Penn for. He did my dirty work if necessary. Before him was a time I didn’t wish to think about.

“Yes.”

She said nothing. I drew closer until the tips of my toes were touching her knees. Reaching over to the coffee table, I picked up the box of tissues. Then I squatted down on my haunches and took a hold of her chin, turning her face towards me. She watched as I pulled out a few tissues and wiped her face down, careful not to aggravate her bruised jaw.

“You don’t have to do that,” she blurted out a moment later.

“I do.”

“Why?”

“I take good care of the things I own, especially when they’re feeling fragile or broken.”

She swallowed at my statement. Silly little thing had no idea of the lengths I’d go to. She didn’t realise how serious I was about looking after her. Yes, it would involve discipline and punishments, but right now, she needed me to make sure she wasn’t going to break into tiny pieces after killing her uncle. I didn’t like broken toys. They weren’t fun to play with.

“Sir?”

I set the used tissues and box back on the table.

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