Page 28 of Beautiful Villain
“I know who you are,” she said quietly.“Or at least the circles you move in.”
“Ah.There it is,” I murmured.
She didn’t look away.“I don’t trust that staying here won’t compromise me,” she continued.“Or that leaving won’t put me straight back in his reach.Same same.”
I set the glass down slowly.The soft clink landed louder than it should have.
“Well,” I said evenly, turning to face her fully, “that simplifies things.”
She braced.
“You can take your chances here,” I continued, “under my protection.Or you can take them out there—with Archie Popovich hunting you down.”
Her chin lifted, defiant even now.Even injured and cornered into a future she couldn’t predict.
“He’ll forget about me,” she said.“Eventually.I’m sure he has more important things to worry about.”
I crossed the room and took the chair across from her, sitting low, forearms resting on my knees.
“Archie doesn’t forget,” I said calmly.“Men like him don’t lose well.They don’t let go of their anger, especially that which is accompanied by humiliation.At the very least, he will destroy you.”
Her throat bobbed.
“You didn’t just leave him,” I continued.“You humiliated him.In public.In front of people whose respect he needs.You didn’t bruise his pride—you exposed it.”
She swallowed once.And in that small, involuntary movement, I knew she understood exactly how dangerous her hope had been.
“If you go back to your old life,” I went on, “your old house, your old routines—he’ll find you.Not tomorrow.Not next week.But eventually.And when he does, he won’t make the mistake of letting you walk away again.And you know your stepfather better than I do; he will not be able to protect you.”
Silence pressed down between us, thick and heavy.
“You’re safer here,” I said.“That’s not a promise.It’s a fact.”
“And what does that cost me?”she asked.
Everything,I didn’t say.But it hung there between us.
“It costs you freedom,” I said honestly.“But you don’t really have that right now anyway.Archie took it the moment he decided you were his.”
Her fingers curled into her shirt.
“I can disappear,” she said.
I shook my head once.“No.You can hide.There’s a difference.And he will always find you.”
She looked away, jaw tight, breath shallow—then back at me.
“How do you know him?”she asked.
There it was.The real question.
I leaned back, exhaled slowly.Truth, then.Enough of it.
“I grew up beside men like Archie,” I said.“Different fathers.Same table.I know exactly how the likes of Archie Popovich operate.”
Her brow furrowed.
“We’re not friends,” I continued.“We’re not allies.But there are rules, and we know each other well enough to understand how far the other will go.”
