Page 154 of The Forbidden Villain
Except…
It means certain sacrifices as well to achieve what you want.
And they are impossible once you find the one thing that means more to you than any revenge ever could.”
Levi
Lavender
Something cold splashes on my face, and I move my head to the side only to cry out when a piercing pain envelops my whole scalp.
I raise my hands to touch my forehead, but they seem glued together, and that’s when the cold concrete or ground beneath me registers in my brain.
Another cold splash hits me, followed by ice-cold water soaking me from head to toe, and despite the pain, I open my eyes and gasp in shock at the sight in front of me.
I’m in a small, dark basement, it seems, with a rusty bed, a small table, and a kitchen sink from which water drips drop after drop, grating on my nerves.
One bulb flickers on in the ceiling, brightening the hideous place, and I cough at the rotten smell that makes my eyes water.
Judging by the small door that’s ajar, there is also a bathroom, but all in all, the basement reeks of desperation and death.
I notice my shoes are missing, and several cuts mar my skin, while a rope ties my wrists together, and my headache only intensifies.
That’s when the memory of the crash comes back. I must have hit something.
Is this one of my nightmares again?
I count to ten, hoping it will all disappear and I’ll wake up somewhere safe, only to freeze when someone speaks up. “You’re finally awake.”
I look at the man who wears a perfectly tailored suit that fits him like a second skin, his dark hair neatly cut, his brown eyes watching me with distaste. He’s tall and lean. Most women would probably find him handsome. However, the cruelty shining in his gaze speaks of his horrible nature. “You are very ugly.” He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket and throws it at me. “The bruise on your forehead is bleeding. Wipe it away. Imperfections make me nauseous.”
Still confused about who this man might be, but cautious enough to play his game, for I’m in his territory and, as such, need to stall for time, I pick up the handkerchief and press it to the wound, finding the source of my pain. The smell around me makes it almost impossible not to gag, though. Still, I study the man who huffs at me.
He presents such a contrast to this basement because he clearly grew up with wealth and has been spoiled, as his comment alone suggests.
I rack my brain, wondering why he seems so familiar, mentally running various media outlets through my mind, but coming up blank. “I do not understand.” His nose twitches in distaste. “You’re old and ugly. What does he see in you?” He huffs in annoyance and that’s when I notice several small knife scars on his palms and wrists as if he cuts himself open on a regular basis. “Then again, that little piece of shit always proved to me I should have killed him a long time ago.”
Terror washes over me as I realize the man standing in front of me is Levi’s biological mother’s rapist.
He found me after all.
“Robert?” I croak through my dry throat, and slide back a little, hitting the wall behind me and wincing as the pain ricochets all over my body. The accident must have really done a number on me.
His sadistic laughter echoes in the air. “My real name is Jonathan.”
Another truth hits me then.
That’s why he was so familiar.
He’s an heir to a billion-dollar company after his parents died in a plane crash almost ten years ago.
He’s considered one of the most eligible bachelors on the market, but no one wanted to marry him because of the rumors about his less-than-stellar temper and cruelty toward his staff.
The only reason I know of him is that he tried to hire Scarlett to represent him around a month ago, and she told him to take a hike after he yelled at her secretary. I witnessed the entire thing, so I remember how he almost got violent there and barely controlled himself.
“That’s why the little shit couldn’t find me all these years. He was searching in the wrong places, and it was so entertaining to watch him find clues that led nowhere.” He barks a laugh. “I thought he died, but then he made his first public appearance, and I knew. He was his mother’s spitting image, just in a male form. Plus that fucking scar.” So much sick affection coats his voice. I swallow past the bile in my throat as this perverted man kidnapped and raped a child. “I couldn’t hate anyone more.”
“Because his mother loved him and hated you.” Anger flashes on his face, and he reaches me in two strides, slapping me across the face so hard that my cheek burns, but I hold back the groan. I won’t give him the satisfaction of my pain, for to him my pain is Levi’s, and he had hurt Levi enough to last a lifetime.
