Page 24 of Beautiful Villain
Silence stretched again, this time different.Tighter.
“That doesn’t make it acceptable,” Gianni said.
“I didn’t say it did,” I replied.“I said it happened.”
He stared at me, clearly trying to reconcile the woman sitting in front of him with the situation I’d just described.Strong.Sharp.Not broken.And still trapped.
“I don’t think you understand,” I added quietly.“By the time I realized what he was capable of, it was already done.”
Gianni looked away, jaw set, eyes dark.He didn’t offer me sympathy or platitudes.Just confusion—raw and unfiltered—cutting through his control.And somehow, that unsettled me more than his pity ever could.
“You seem afraid of him,” he said, watching me closely, “yet you’re not afraid of me.”
“I am,” I corrected without hesitation.“I’m absolutely afraid of you.I’m just… prioritizing my fear.You’re later on the list.”
That earned a pause.
“And who’s first?”he asked.
I didn’t need to think about it.“You know who.He Who Shall Not Be Named.”
Something dark crossed his face—fast, sharp, gone almost before I could register it.But it was enough.Enough to tell me I’d hit something solid.
“You’re a handful,” he said quietly.“I can’t imagine He Who Shall Not Be Named didn’t demand a refund.”
I met his gaze and shook my head.“If anything, my quick wit made him more determined to keep me.”
He let out a low laugh—brief, surprised, like it slipped past his guard before he could stop it.The sound settled somewhere in my chest, unsettling in a way I refused to examine too closely.
“You’re going to be trouble,” he said.
“I’ve been told,” I replied.“Usually right before things go very badly for everyone involved.”
9
Archie
“You mean to tell me,” I roared, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal, “that Mikayla climbed out of a window, ran out of a churchbarefoot, her dress torn to hell?—”
I jabbed a finger toward the bridal room window, where scraps of white fabric were still clinging to the frame like evidence.
“—and no one,” I continued, voice rising, “no onesaw a goddamn thing?”
Morrison flinched.
He’d been with me most of my life.Watched me grow from a boy into something far less forgiving.And still, I managed to scare the bejesus out of him on a near-daily basis.
“The locals were all at a Neighborhood Watch meeting,” he said weakly, for what I was fairly certain was the fourth time.
I stopped pacing and turned slowly.
“And youboughtthat?”I stepped into his space, lowering my voice to something far more dangerous.“Do you genuinely believe the crime rate on this street is anything above zero-point-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero- of a percent?”
He swallowed.“But?—”
“No buts, Morrison!”
I slammed my palm down on the desk.Papers jumped.Morrison did, too.
