Page 72 of Tyrant (The Villetti Chronicles)

Did it matter what the reason was?

No.

It just mattered that I liked it, and so did he.

However, I shouldn’t be thinking about that when I was tied up with a knife in my face.

Priorities, Ari, get them straight!

“Not so full of shit now, am I?” I hissed at Derek, who was staring at Zayn with confusion in his eyes.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Zayn cracked his neck and stepped closer.

“Someone you should really think twice about disrespecting, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes went to the gun in Zayn’s hand. I watched him swallow, then straighten, dropping the knife from me as he turned to face Zayn.

“Oh yeah?”

Zayn didn’t even flinch as Derek stepped towards him with his knife clutched tightly in his fist in front of him.

“Mmm. Arianna Michaelson is property of the Villetti family.”

Derek’s steps faltered.

“Villetti? Fuck, you’re—”

Zayn raised his gun and shot. Derek screamed. The knife clattered on the floor and his hands went to his crotch. His knees fell out from underneath him as he dropped to the floor.

“What the fuck? You fuckin’ shot me in the dick!”

Zayn closed the distance and stared down at the crying man in front of him. His eyes flicked up to me and there I saw the concern in them as he took in my appearance. Then he shut it down, his face going blank as he looked at Derek again. He squatted down, leaning his gun on his knee and met Derek’s eyes, cocking his head to the side.

“Just so we’re clear, that was for your little deal with Justin. You wanted to fuck her, didn’t you? Only it wouldn’t be fucking, would it, Derek? It would have been rape. Spineless men like you don’t deserve to own a cock.”

Derek whimpered, staring at Zayn with fear in his glassy brown eyes. I could see the blood seeping into his clothes at his crotch.

Zayn put his gun right next to one of Derek’s knees and shot him at point-blank range. The gun going off rang in my ears. Derek screamed again as the bullet shattered his knee.

“That’s for your men shoving her in the back of a van.”

He put his gun to Derek’s other knee and fired again.

“That’s for tying her up.”

Zayn put the gun down next to him and reached over, picking up the discarded knife. He looked at the blade, then he shoved Derek down on the floor. He put his hand on Derek’s shoulder to pin him there. There was a deadly gleam in his eyes as he smiled at the man below him.

“And this?” He put the knife to Derek’s neck. “This is for touching what’s mine.”

I watched in horrified fascination as Zayn dragged the blade across Derek’s neck, digging into his flesh and making sure Derek wouldn’t survive the wounds he inflicted. He wiped the knife off on Derek’s clothes. I noticed he had a pair of gloves on as he tucked the knife into Derek’s trouser pocket, meaning his fingerprints wouldn’t be on it.

Zayn rose to his feet and watched Derek gurgle and bleed out on the floor with a blank expression on his face. He killed a man in cold blood for kidnapping me. And I didn’t know what the fuck to say or think. His eyes went to me as he stepped around the pooling blood on the floor and walked towards me.

“Tinkerbell.”

All I could feel was gratitude he was here for me. I should be feeling other things about what he’d done, but my only thought was for him.

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