Page 8 of Wicked Villain

“No!” I cry, grabbing on to my mother, who’s holding me tighter than ever.

“Dio mio, no! Please don’t take my daughter,” Mama wails.

Danillo pushes past Papa with his gun raised, aimed at Lev. “This is a fucking outrage. How dare you⁠—”

He doesn’t get to finish. Lev shoots him right there without a thought or a blink.

When Danillo cries out in agony and drops to the ground, I think he’s dead—and part of me almost rejoices. I don’t even feel bad for the lack of guilt that follows.

With his chest covered in blood, Danillo moves, managing to lift himself up to sit, and I almost feel disappointed when I realize the bullet only got him in the shoulder.

“Challenge me again, and I’ll blow your head off,” Lev sneers, cocking the hammer on his gun.

Papa looks at Danillo and gives a firm shake of his head, a silent warning to stand down.

“Now, as I was saying.” Lev returns his gaze to me for a heartbeat, then looks back at Papa. “I’m taking the girl. Then we’ll have a nice little chat, you and me, Corrado.”

“A chat?”

“Yes. Or maybe we should talk out here where everyone can hear us.” Lev spreads his arms wide and looks around the room at the guests.

“No,” Papa says far too quickly. “We’ll speak in private. In my office.”

“Thought you’d say that.” Malice comes alive in the devil’s eyes, and he waves me forward. As if I’m going to really go with him.

“Papa, please, don’t do this.” I root my feet to the ground, and Mama is still holding on to me.

“Caro mio,” Mama beseeches my father. “Please not her. Not again.”

She’s right to put it that way. The only difference between last time and now is this conversation we’re having. Last time, I was full-on kidnapped by my father’s enemies. Gabrielle and I.

Last time, only one of us made it out alive, and that was because my sister saved me.

From the look of things, no one can save me now.

Two men march forward to seize me. One of them looks strikingly similar to Lev and even has the devil’s cold menace.

“Papa,” I gasp, searching my father’s eyes for something I can appeal to.

“Gabrielle, go with them.” He waves me forward, and my heart sinks into that dreadful abyss of hopelessness.

Everyone’s been calling me Gabrielle for the last four years. It’s always felt wrong in my head, but this is the first time that it’s felt like a death sentence. When I leave here, will I ever return? Alive?

Will I ever see my mother again?

I’ve sacrificed so much already for this family.

“Gabrielle, go!” Papa shouts, tearing Mama off me.

As soon as my mother releases me, the men take me, grabbing my arms to lead me away. Mama breaks down, but I don’t look at her. I don’t look at my father, either.

I look at Lev Karsavin, and he glares right back at me.

There’s no point trying to mask my terror.

He held power over all of us long before he even walked through our doors.

And now he has me.