Page 119 of The Forbidden Villain
Freaking laughs!
“Rush kidnapped my sister and almost killed my father. Despite that, he’s still breathing. You really think they’re going to kill me over a little fight with their sister?”
“A little fight? We aren’t having a little fight. You’re a psychopath! A murderer! A stalker!”
“Anything else? Get it all out,moy cvetochek.”
“And don’t call me that either! I have a name, you can use it!”
The scarred and scared part of me urges me to shut up because it’s never good to antagonize such men. Right now, heholds all the cards, so I should act more compliant if I want to get away.
Somehow I can’t.
For the first time in my life, my patience is thin, I cannot control myself, and it’s a disaster!
He opens the cage and steps inside, slowly moving toward me, so I get up, ignoring the discomfort in my muscles at the movement and trying to walk to the farthest corner. “For a prisoner, you’re awfully mouthy.”
“You don’t get those a lot, I guess.”
Just shut up, Lavender!
The pep talk doesn’t work since he continues the conversation, only adding to my fear. “They’re too busy screaming from all the torture to mouth back at me. It’s an interesting change. And besides, I don’t take hostages or prisoners.” He grins, although his blue eyes stay cold. “You’re my first,moy cvetochek. Do you like that?”
“Oh, yes. I feel so special to be your first. Thank you for such an honor, Levi.” I move some more, the chains dragging after me and making my ankle ache. “What do you plan to do next?” The memories are blurred together inside my head, and the words spill from me before I can stop them or really think about them. “Are you a rapist, too? That’s why?—”
The energy around us drops by several degrees instantly, and he reaches me in one long stride, the air sticking in my lungs when he wraps his hand around my throat and pushes me against the cage bars that rattle soundly. For a second, he cuts my oxygen supply off while anger emits from him so strongly I can almost touch it. “I told you. I never take what’s not willingly offered.” His fingers flex on my throat some more, and I try to rip his hands away while he continues. “You can call me whatever the fuck you want, but what you will never call me, even when you’re angry and hysterical, is a rapist. Is that clear?”
I nod, too shocked to do anything else, and his grip on me loosens, allowing me to inhale air into my starved lungs. His thumb rubs my throat in a soft caress, and before I can tell him to stop, he takes several steps back, once again surprising me.
“I do apologize for hurting you right now,moy cvetochek. Some things will not be tolerated, though.”
I blink at his mood swings, which give me whiplash. Then again, I imagine being called a rapist is not something anyone would let slide. What was I supposed to think? “I won’t apologize for my words.” His brow rises at this, and he drops the cigarette on the ground, stepping on the bud and twisting his foot. “Sooner or later, my brothers will find me. They track my every movement.” I’ve never been more grateful for that fact until now.
“I removed their trackers from your phone and car a long time ago. The only person who can track you is me.” He taps on my arm. “Because I injected it right inside you.”
“What?”
That’s when I vaguely remember my doctor’s appointment right after the engagement party. I went to do a health checkup and they injected something into my arm. I assumed it was some sort of medication since I had headaches back then.
“You… You… How could you? Putting something inside me without my consent?” I hiss, rubbing my still sore throat. “You’re crazy.” But even these words don’t seem eloquent enough to describe how I feel right now.
What’s with all these men in my life who want to control me and never let me breathe without their permission?
“No, I’m protective. That evening, you became mine.” I still at the fire blazing in his eyes when he rests his forearm above my head, trapping me between the bars and his hard chest. “And that forever put a target on your head. I won’t apologize for protecting what’s mine.”
“Why would it put a target on my head?” I try to make sense of this reality and just can’t. How could my life turn into a nightmare once again?
A piercing headache hits me, and I sigh. “Do not answer that. No matter what you say, it won’t justify your actions. You’re still a killer and a stalker.” I swallow, facing him head-on, and resist the urge to plaster myself more against the bars to create some space between us. Somehow, I do not wish to show him my fear. “And I still have no idea what you want from my brothers and why they are on the board.”
According to my very limited psychological knowledge, psychopaths don’t feel any emotions and are excellent manipulators, using every situation to their advantage and acting like chameleons.
Still, he can’t fake his affection for his family, right? He might not give a shit about Rafael, but Aileen loves Rush.
Hurting him would hurt his sister, and he wouldn’t do that, would he?
“You have a perfect family, and you grew up to be a monster? What was the reason?” I know in some cases one is just born with such tendencies. However, more often than not, deviant desires are formed based on experiences as a child.
“It must be your curse,moy cvetochek, to have such a vivid imagination,” he murmurs, and leans closer, his familiar scent enveloping me and creating a haze around us. If it weren’t for his rigid muscles against me, I would have never noticed his barely controlled anger since his voice stays deep and even. “If I wanted to harm your brothers, they’d be on the other board.” My brow furrows, and I look at the boards again. The one with various bodies is one giant bloodbath, but the one with my brothers… My picture is right in the middle and all arrows lead to me. “This specific board is purple and is all about you.”
