Page 36 of Beautiful Villain
The arm was bare.Male.The hand still intact.
On the pinky finger sat a small gold ring set with a green stone.
I knew that ring.
“I know this hand,” I said quietly, stepping closer.
Dunn’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away.“Whose?”
“George Gregory.”
Larry swore under his breath.Enzo went completely still.
The house seemed to inhale around us, like it understood what had just been brought inside its walls—and was deciding whether to reject it or swallow it whole.
“So he’s confirmed she’s here,” Enzo said slowly.“But if he knows, why not raid the place?Why not come in guns blazing?”
I didn’t answer right away.
My eyes drifted back to the shattered window.The glass scattered like frozen rain.The threshold untouched.And just inside it—deliberately placed, carefully positioned—the arm.
Like he was presenting me with a gift.
“Because this isn’t an attack,” I said at last.“It’s an invitation.”
They waited.
“An invitation towhat?”Enzo snapped, his composure finally cracking.I loved the man, but fear always got the better of him.
“An invitation,” I said.“To sit at the table.He wants a conversation.”
Enzo stared at me.“This is how he asks?”
“I’m just grateful it was an arm and not a horse’s head,” Dunn muttered, glancing down at what he was still holding.“Very old-school.Very dramatic.”
The Godfather reference landed and died in the air between us.
“I need proof of life,” I said, my gaze settling on Dunn.“Do whatever it takes and find out whether her stepfather is alive or dead.”
The silence that followed was heavy and complete.It pressed in on the room, turning every breath into a conscious choice.
I already knew the answer.There was no realistic way George Gregory survived something that brutal.But knowing wasn’t enough.I needed confirmation.Facts.Certainty.
Dunn would get it.He was thorough, discreet, and faster than anyone else I trusted with something this sensitive.Now it was just a matter of waiting.
And waiting told me everything else I needed to know.
There was only one reason Archie hadn’t come through my front door tonight.
Only one reason he’d chosen intimidation over bloodshed—symbolism over slaughter—even knowing I was sheltering something he believed belonged to him.
Because Archie Popovich followed one rule without exception.One rule that sat above ego, rage, and even bloodlust:you don’t storm an Italian stronghold unless you’re prepared to start a war you can’t survive.
13
Mikayla
The house was shrouded in silence.It felt like we stood in the aftermath of something monumental.
