Falling for the Villain

Mine.

Always and forever.

Mine.

There was something about her and not just what I knew, saw, and wanted. She had always been different, making a hard man like me go weak. I wasn’t supposed to fall for her, it wasn’t part of my plan, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I needed her.

Longed for her before she was ever in my arms.

There was no going back for me, only going forward with her by my side. Kissing her forehead, I let her go. Leaving her alone in her room, I remembered what it felt like to always be alone after my mother was killed. It was what he wanted, me weak and at his brutal mercy.

He’d taught me everything I know, making me hate who I’d turned into. There was no stopping what I’d become. I embraced it a long time ago. From the moment my father let me out of that closet, I was his to do what he pleased like I was with Juliet.

It was survival.

With a shaky hand, I grabbed my cell phone out of the pocket of my slacks and leaned against the door to her bedroom. Needing the support to hold me up for what I was about to do.

To say.

The phone rang only once when he answered.

I didn’t allow Troy to respond.

Simply stating, “She’s ready. Let the auction begin tonight.”

Fully aware I was only doing this to prove to myself that I didn’t love her, knowing in my dark heart that I was born loving her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Juliet

“It’s time.”

A feminine voice brought me out of my restless sleep. She was wearing a gorgeous white tuxedo set and had diamond-studded glasses perched on the edge of her nose. She looked anywhere between fifty and sixty with her dark hair tucked back into a tight bun, her red lipstick spread across full lips that I couldn’t tell if were natural or not.

Her hands were on her hips as she assessed me. “Well? Aren’t you going to get up?”

“Who are you?” I asked in a sleep-filled voice.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m your fairy godmother.”

“What?”

“What, no laughter?” She sighed like she was disappointed. “Guess you really are ready if I’m no longer funny.” She turned and said, “I brought two gowns for you to pick from. He’s clearly an indulgent master if he’s allowing you the choice and not demanding which one to pick. Oh well, maybe it’s a test. Choose wisely before I do your makeup and hair, all right?”

She pointed to two floor-length ball gowns. One was a sleek white silk with a fully open back and front. The only lick of fabric on the top would barely cover my breasts and was attached to the slinky skirt. Other than that, I’d need to be careful when I even walked in it.

The other was gold.

For some reason, it spoke to me more. It was simpler, nearly see-through on top except for a few strategically placed sewed-in pieces of golden lace on the strapless top. The rest of the skirt was identical to the white dress, slinky, long, and with a high slit on each side.

“Is there a dinner or something?” I asked, trying to figure out where he’d take me and who would be looking at me.

She snorted out a laugh. “Leave it to Donovan to not even prepare you for your debut, right?” Her tall silver heels clicked against the floor. “Let’s just say you’re going to a party. There, that sounds better.”

I quickly pointed to the gold dress. “I like this one.”

“Then let’s get it on you,” she exclaimed cheerfully as she grabbed the dress from the hanger and slowly unzipped the back. I was already naked, so there was no stripping out of anything as I gently stepped inside the dress, holding it to my chest as she zipped it up.

“Perfect fit. Shocker.” She sighed more to herself than to me as she gently pushed me toward the bathroom, where she had a special light you’d use for Instagram photos set up along with a bounty of makeup and hair products.

I could almost believe I was getting ready for a special event.

While she did my makeup and hair, her hands were gentle as she worked, whistling a tune I didn’t recognize half the time. I let myself believe I was Julia Roberts and he was Richard Gere.

He was going to wine and dine me.

I’d still be his pet.

But now, we’d somehow be equals.

I’d passed all his tests.

Maybe this was my reward?

“Elaina,” Donovan said her name softly, softer than he’d ever said mine, softer than he’d ever spoken to me.

Jealousy at his treatment of her coursed through me as he walked into the room looking like The Phantom of the Opera come to fucking life.

He had an all-black suit on, no color was present, his black silk tie was pinned with a diamond, and he wore a simple black half-mask on his face.