My chest heaved, and my eyes watered, gasping for air that wasn’t available for the taking. All the blood draining from my face, down to my lips that trembled with the instinctual desire to fall apart.
So much hurt.
Lies.
Betrayal.
“Now you know why Donovan had you kidnapped.” He leaned in close to my lips. “You play the piano just like her. How fucking sick, right? To teach you her only talent as if they wanted her soul to live on through you. You’re nothing more than a pretty doll that he puts on his shelf to show the world that you belong to him. Do you understand now? Are you seeing things clearly? More accurately? Did I paint the picture you wanted, pet?”
I wanted to know why Donovan chose, me and now I knew the truth, and it was like dying with Troy’s hand over my neck.
“For nine years, nine fucking years, Donovan’s father taught him the ropes, showed him what it was like to be a master, own a slave, have a pet. Until Donovan turned nineteen years old and decided it was time to make his old man pay for his sins, for your mother’s untimely death,” he seethed into my ear, his hard cock pressed against my core. “Do you feel me, Juliet?” He let go of my neck to rip my dress. “Because now it’s time to show you who’s your real master with my dick deep inside of you. What better way to end this fucked up fairy tale you’ve created in your own head than to have my seed grow in your stomach. Proving to Donovan and your father who you truly belong to.”
“NO!” I acted on pure impulse, banging my head into his nose as hard as I possibly could. Blood immediately flew from his nostrils while his body propelled back from the impact of my blow.
“You’re going to pay for that, pet! It’s time to make you lick my blood!” He lunged forward, and I tightly shut my eyes, turning my head into the X. Trying to get away from him. To hide.
Everything that proceeded next was in slow motion.
The doors to wherever we were slammed open.
Instantaneously, my eyes flew open and locked with my villain.
My hero.
I’d never forget the look in Donovan’s smoldering glare as he took in my battered face, my bleeding body, trailing down to the rip in my dress that was barely covering my core. It was that exact moment we were both held captive by this psychopath’s wrath.
The next few seconds played out in my mind resembling a reel from a classic movie. The glimpses of the black and white pictures were present as the current day, even though the stills were blurred, confusing, and utterly compelling. Nevertheless, we would never be the same again.
It was a memory neither one of us would ever forget, even if we wanted to, even if we hoped, even if we prayed, they were permanent. Exactly like his past. Troy was right—this wasn’t a fairy tale. It was a nightmare I wanted to wake up from.
Except when I’d wake up, I’d be alone.
My villain would vanish like a thief in the night, stealing my heart and soul with him. I wouldn’t be the same woman I was after this, and maybe that was his plan all along.
To set me free, even if it meant … I was lost without him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Donovan
“Why?” Romeo asked as we pulled in front of the mansion. “Why not just let him kill her? You sadistic fucks are all the same.”
I clenched my fists. “Don’t talk shit you’ll have to clean up later, Romeo. You fucked while killing, and you think you have the right to judge me?”
“Enough of this,” Romeo’s father barked out. “We’re here for one thing and one thing only, to get my daughter back. Understand me?”
We nodded.
I held my hand toward Romeo after we got out of the car.
He stared at it, looking up at me. “What?”
“I don’t have my gun on me, so I need one of yours.”
His smirk made me want to smack him across the face then run him over with my car.
“I think I have a wooden one in the back. Maybe if you throw it hard enough, you’ll—”
“Romeo!” Old man Sinacore sighed. “Give him one of yours, so we can get this business over with.” His expression hardened. “Should have dealt with this shit a long time ago.”
Romeo breathed deeply, handing me one of his Glocks before going to the trunk and pulling out two more and then shoving them into the back of his pants along with a sharp-looking knife.
Guess even heroes had their favorite toys.
I made the right choice.
In going to them.
In exposing myself as the true villain.
In confessing.
I had to think, as we walked up the steps and into the mansion, that in the end, I did good, and I did it all for her.