Page 18 of The Forbidden Villain
Von points at the girls behind us who send us all dreamy glances, and I would have indulged in their attraction a year ago.
Women provided a reprieve from the demons clawing me from the inside out, always demanding the agony of those I deem fit.
Because their pain and screams temporarily shut up the voices ringing in my head, driving me insane.
No commitments, no promises, no intimacy.
Just meaningless, faceless hookups and never with the same woman twice. Still, I have a sister and a mother, so I always acted respectfully toward women and made myself crystal clear from the beginning so they wouldn’t hope for the impossible.
Now, though?
The attention annoys me, as my previous reputation might stand in the way of achieving my goal with Lavender.
I haven’t touched anyone since my eyes first landed on her more than a year ago. I’m very loyal when it comes to my obsession.
“Behave yourself. We have an audience here.” Von focuses his stare on me, and although I see a quiet rage in there, he reins it in. Had I been anyone else and dared to touch his best friend, he’d rip my head off. “Kane is right. You need to handle this shit—whatever the fuck it is—and soon. Your little obsession can’t clash with the auction night.”
“What exactly do you have planned for that specific night?” Now Wyatt comes to stand next to me, resting his elbow on my shoulder, creating a powerful front and showing his alliances right away.
Grabbing the chessboard, I huff and puff, dragging it to the wide table as all the children run around like headless chickens and scream their heads off as if this long break is a blessing when in fact it’s a curse.
Because their carefree happiness scrapes at the festering wounds inside me. I sigh and flip the chessboard open, putting all the pawns out, disappointment hitting me at the reminder that my sister has a ballet performance tonight and won’t be able to join me.
She’s an angel who showers me with love and attention I don’t deserve and stays by my side in this otherwise lonely existence, as forming any kind of friendship scares me.
I’ve barely started talking a few months back, and I don’t feel like trusting anyone who might hurt me, and they would.
It’s human nature to destroy those closest to you.
Placing all the pieces in perfect order on both sides, I decide to play by myself, imagining my opponent when a big shadow falls on the table, blocking the sun shining brightly on me.
Frowning, I look up to see a boy around my age, munching on an apple, and the crunching sound grates on my ears. “Areyou going to play by yourself?” he asks, putting his lunchbox on the table, and I nod, hoping he’d go away soon.
Most kids find me weird and prefer to stay away from me, or sometimes they laugh and point fingers, not that I care.
As long as they leave me alone, I’m good.
I blink rapidly, though, when he gives me a thumbs-up and drops into the chair opposite mine, continuing to eat his apple and tapping on the black pieces. “Let’s play then. I love chess.” He grins and motions for me to start while I simply gawk at him.
He wants to play with me? Why?
He must read the question on my face because he says, while adjusting the pieces, “Better,” as if trying to put them right in the middle of the square and make everything symmetrical.
“I’m bored, and our dads are friends.” They are? I’ve never seen this boy in my life. To be fair, I refused to interact with anyone and preferred to hide in my room. “Go ahead. Make the first move. A little warning? I don’t like to lose.”
We’ve been joined at the hip ever since, despite our parents doing their best to prevent our friendship, which is hilarious in itself.
According to them, we are a destructive bunch that brings mayhem wherever we go, and they even tried to separate us by making us go to different schools after we caused a fire during one of our classes.
It didn’t work, and they gave up at some point. The fact that we’re basically family now through the Wright siblings only strengthens our bond.
“You asking me this question just shows how little fucks you give about our club.” Kane spits the blood and wipes his mouth once again before throwing the handkerchief in the nearest bin. Von is so old-fashioned that he probably has three more on him.“Auction night ensures we have new members who would pay a vast amount of money to indulge in their vices however they see fit. We made a lot last year, and I want to double that this time around. And all of you are screwing with my plans.” He huffs as Von finishes his cigarette. “I understand you all have huge trust funds to fall back on, but I invested my hard-earned money into it. I’d like to see rewards.”
Sarcasm coats Wyatt’s tone when he points out, “Von’s trust fund funded your education and career, so you should sound a little less bitter about it.” A beat passes. “Besides, none of us used our trusts for the club.”
What are the perks of having access to wealth from an early age? You learn to invest smart, and one of these investments lets us pour money into our new venture, which stays a secret from our families.
They wouldn’t approve of our club or what it allows us to do.
