Page 6 of The Forbidden Villain
Otherwise, they’ll lock me up again.
And that’s something I’ll avoid at all costs.
For who would be able to handle the storm growing inside me?
CHAPTER THREE
“Obsessions could never be cured.
For if you obsess over someone or something…
You become the villain in your own story.
And once you become the villain, there is no going back.
You’ll forever be trapped by your vices and darkness.”
Him
Him
Leaning back on my chair, I grab my vodka with lemon and shake the glass a little before taking a greedy sip as I watch the various TV screens in front of me.
I zero my gaze in on the one in the middle, where Lavender paces back and forth in her bedroom, running her fingers through her blonde locks and huffing in frustration.
She taps on her phone five times in a row and sighs. “Why is it taking them so long?” she mutters under her breath, and spins around, the skirt of her dress that showcases her mile-long legs swirling around her thighs. “I doubt they have many candidates for the position.”
Since the balcony door in her room is wide open, the wind whooshes inside and billows the snow-white curtains that lightly caress her skin.
My hold on the glass is tight because I despise anyone or anything else touching what belongs to me.
The possessive beats within me wish to drag her to my dungeon and strip her of all her clothes, covering her with me and leaving no doubt in that pretty and confused head of hers that she’s mine.
Mine to do as I please because the idea of her blood trickling down her skin haunts me every single day and fills me with a need so strong I can barely function through it.
Patience, patience, patience.
It’s a virtue, they say, although they must have been saints, for how can torture be a fucking virtue?
She taps on the phone once again and groans loudly before flopping on the bed and punching the pillow, making my lips twitch.
Ah, this temper of hers beneath her cold demeanor sure brings out the monster in me.
I’ll destroy it layer by layer until only her bare soul remains.
I briefly glance at the recording of her therapy session today, and anger rushes through my veins at the thought of all these fuckers who dared to hurt what’s mine. Since all of them seem to be dead for now, though, there isn’t much I can do.
Except to show her that certain justices do exist in this world.
She feels so much compassion for the serial killer… What would she say if she found out about my obsession, though? About how I made sure to have my eyes on her twenty-four seven? How everywhere she goes, she has cameras and microphones attached to her, so I know what’s going on.
Her life is an open book to me, and privacy from me doesn’t exist, which sounds insane…except I don’t give a fuck.
I’m a shadow that follows her every move because she needs to be protected at all costs…so I can do whatever the fuck I please once I get my hands on her.
Patience, patience, patience.
Putting the glass away, I pick up my phone and hack into the library’s system, quickly typing a message for her, then focus on my screen once again. She jumps on the bed when her phone beeps.
