Perfect Villain (Dark Lies Duet 1)

I can’t have that—I won’t. Not after the past few nights—not ever. She’s mine. I lost her once, but never again.

It took all the strength I could muster last night not to punch my fist through the wall when she told me the things Taj and Kyla said to her. And she knew it too, because she also knew exactly how to calm me down. She used her sweet pussy to snuff out my anger and push my thoughts to the back of my mind.

It worked only as long as it took for me to empty myself inside her. The moment we were done, the rage returned. I held my composure and fell asleep with her wrapped in my arms. But as I look over at her lounging on my couch in thigh-high socks and my button-up from last night, I remember the tears and sadness that invaded her beautiful face.

I can feel my muscles quivering under my skin, and I have to flex my hands to calm down. The need to hurt someone is rearing its ugly head, and for the first time in days, I realize just how long it’s been since I’ve partaken in my usual form of release.

Pussy is great, and I love the taste and smell of my woman, but nothing gets my blood pumping like the blood of an enemy. And the longer I sit here thinking about everything, the need grows even more.

Siân—my topolina—is the only thing keeping me sane. Tony’s words from the day we scouted out this loft come to mind, and I see now what he was getting at. His concern was the change he saw in me when it pertained to her. My decisions have been more rash than usual, and if I’m being honest with myself, I even move differently. For the longest time, I thought the obsession was enough. The taunting and teasing, the fear I provoked in her were all I needed. I was wrong, and never in a million years would I have been receptive to anything else.

Siân peels her eyes away from her textbook and peers up at me. My heart does somersaults when the thin line of her lips turns up into a smile. I swallow the lump that forms in my throat and push a heavy breath from my lungs. The air scrapes against my insides, a feeling I’m none too familiar with. My skin grows hot, and the quivering I once felt in my muscles has turned fiery at the thought of losing this—of losing her.

This is how it’s supposed to be—the two of us against the world, and I’ll be damned if another soul stands in the way of that. She told me she loved me, and at the time, I didn’t have a response. What was I supposed to say? That I’d never been in love or believed in it. But that’s not true. This thing I’m feeling, the nerves, the shortness of breath, the constant need to be near her—it’s more than an obsession.

Love.

A fool’s errand is how I always saw it. Love makes you weak. It blinds and changes you. Will Siân change me? Can I be the man she needs? Can she heal my black heart? Do I want her to?

The questions run on repeat in my head, and the lack of answers drives me wild. The only thing I’m certain of is that Siân belongs to me, and every other obstacle must go. Kyla, Taj, and anyone else who gets in my way—they all must go.

My phone rings, dragging me from my thoughts. Siân glances up at me again, a frown pulling at her brows. Ever since Cynthia went missing, and I promised to use my resources to help find her, Siân has stayed glued to my side, getting her hopes up only to have them crushed every time my phone rings. In the past, I’d enjoy being the one torturing her like this, but now that I’ve made her mine completely, body and soul, I resent the disappointment that washes over her every time.

Siân rises on her knees as I pick up my phone from the coffee table. She uses her eyes to follow my hand as I grip the device and bring it to my ear. She scoots closer, knocking her books to the floor. Papers scatter under the table, but she doesn’t seem to care.

My father doesn’t wait for me to greet him before he’s throwing out orders. My jaw clenches at his commands, but I relax to keep from showing that side of myself to Siân. She still doesn’t know this part of my life; the rage, the violence, the gore, or that I am the son of the man who ordered the hit on her family.

I rise to my full height, still feeling Siân’s eyes on me. “This is my father. Give me a minute?”