Page 41 of Beautiful Villain
“You never owed him anything to begin with.That was on George, and his debt died with him.”
Her shoulders sagged, just a fraction.“Then where does that leave me and Archie?”
“It leaves him angry,” I said honestly.“And it leaves you out of his reach.”
Her fingers twisted in the fabric of the throw blanket.“He’s going to kill me.”
The fear in her voice was palpable.
“I know what people say about him,” she went on, her voice thinning as the words left her.
I turned fully toward her then, giving her my attention without distraction.“People say a lot of things.”
“Most of it’s true.”
“Yes,” I said quietly.I didn’t add what I was thinking—that a living Mikayla was far more valuable to Archie than a dead one.That control mattered more to him than blood.And that could make him flip the script and do something unpredictable.
She shook her head, frustration flashing through the fear.“You don’t know him the way I do?—”
I cut in gently, not dismissing her, but anchoring her.“I know the kind of man he is.And I know what he wants.That doesn’t invalidate your fear, but it does mean he won’t dare to touch you while you’re under my protection.”
“And if he tries?”
“Then he answers to me.”
Her breath shuddered.She turned onto her side, closer now, the space between us shrinking without either of us acknowledging it.
“I’m afraid,” she whispered.
I lifted a hand before I could talk myself out of it, caught a loose curl between my fingers.Twisted it gently, grounding myself as much as her.
“You should be,” I said.“Fear keeps you alive.”
Her eyes flicked up to mine.
“But,” I continued, lowering my voice, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Something in her broke then.She shifted closer, her forehead brushing my shoulder, her body curling into my side like it knew where it belonged before her mind could catch up.
I wrapped an arm around her without thinking.
She cried again, softer this time, from mental exhaustion rather than despair.I held her steady, my hand still in her hair, thumb tracing slow, absent circles at her temple.
“You’re safe,” I murmured.“Here with me.”
15
Gianni
Sometimes, life gives you lemons.What you do with those lemons is what really matters.
Archie Popovich, for example, chose to squeeze them directly into someone else’s eyes.
By throwing George Gregory’s arm into my living room, Archie had made a point of letting me know he’d finally rid himself of theparasite infectionknown as George Gregory.He wanted Mikayla to hear about it.To feel it.To understand exactly what waited for her when she resurfaced.
He was sentimental like that.In a sadistic, performative sort of way.
I imagined him convincing himself it was clever—telling her he’d permanently retired her stepfather would make her reckless.Sloppy.Maybe grief would knock the sense out of her long enough for her to do something dramatic.Like show up at the funeral.
