The Villain Duet by Bella J.

Chapter 30

Charlotte

“Tell me about her.”

“About who?” Elijah stepped up behind me, easing up the zipper of my dress.

“Saint’s wife.”

“Milana.” He brushed his palms down the sides of my arms. “She’s lovely. The exact opposite of Saint.”

“Opposites attract. Like us.” Our gazes locked in the mirror, a silent moment that conveyed so much without a word being spoken.

He placed a tender kiss on the nape of my neck, and I closed my eyes as his warm breath caressed my skin. “I think it has been proven time and time again that you and I,” he glanced up at our reflection, “aren’t that different after all.”

The air was suddenly laden with tension, my body hyperaware of how close he was. The soft fabric of his suit jacket touched my arms, and for a second I regretted insisting that we accept Saint’s invitation to join them for dinner. I’d much rather be Elijah’s fuck toy right now, than his plus one.

God. He was right. We weren’t that different—not since I chose to embrace my most wicked desires Elijah so expertly awoke.

“You look beautiful.”

I shivered as his hands traveled over my waist, fingers stroking the fabric of my midnight-blue dress. The full-length, halter-neck chiffon dress wasn’t something I’d choose for myself. Not because I didn’t like it, but simply because I couldn’t afford the price tag on the Vera Wang evening dress. But Elijah had insisted that I choose at least three dresses from the collection he had brought to our suite from the hotel’s boutique. From the three, I could see by his wicked grin this was the one he fancied the most.

I eased my palms down the silk. “I’m not used to dressing up like this.” I glanced around, the four-post bed and its white drapes the center-point of this vastly luxurious room. “This is all…” I let out a breath, “this is all so much to take in. To get used to.”

“Is it something you want to get used to?” He studied me from underneath his lashes, his gaze intense and curious.

“What do you mean?”

He shot his cuffs, straightening his navy suit jacket. Elijah pinned me with his gaze, shoulders squared as his dominant presence engrossed me. “I mean, if you had a choice right now—which you don’t,” his head slanted to the side, “would you pick this life…with me?”

There was no correct answer to this question. Countless nights I had lain awake thinking about it—whether, if given a choice, I’d choose him. The truth was a mindfuck, but the lie was even worse.

The weight of it made me look down, afraid I might get lost within the swirl of his dark irises—a dark vortex I had given up on fighting yet still feared.

“It doesn’t matter.” I turned to look at my reflection again. “We’re too deep into this for my answer to change anything.”

“If I demanded it?”

I twined my fingers together in front of me. “Would you?” I faced him. “Demand an answer?”

“I might.”

“Will you be able to handle the answer?”

He shrugged. “That depends whether I like it or not.”

I licked my lips, nervous tension settling in my shoulders. “What would you do if you…didn’t like it?”

“I’d still keep you.” There was no hesitation, and no doubt about what his intentions were if I had answered no, saying I wouldn’t choose this world, living this life with him.

“Then there’s no reason for me to give you an answer, is there?”

He picked up the bottle of perfume that stood on the bedside table, tracing his fingers along the delicate glass bubble before handing it to me. “Maybe it would make me feel like less of a monster if I knew you’d pick me.”

It was one of those pivotal moments that changed the sequence of my thoughts, as if it lifted the veil that blinded me all this time.

Elijah Mariano had so many layers to him, so many complexities that it was easy for me to look past it all, only seeing The Musician. The man who kidnapped me. The man who seduced me, and ultimately stole my heart. But for the first time, I saw a man who needed security as much as I did. Who needed reassurance as to how I felt about him. Even though he made it abundantly clear that whether I felt that way or not, he wouldn’t let me go—which I believed—deep down he wanted to know that when given a choice I’d choose him. Like me wanting to know that I was more to him than just a debt he needed to settle.

Elijah turned to walk away when I called out, “Ask me again.”

He stilled and slowly faced me.

I swallowed. “Ask me again.”

Silently, he studied me, and my heart raced wondering about what he was thinking.

He rubbed his jaw with his thumb, taking a step closer. “If you had a choice,” he lifted his chin, “would you pick this life with me…willingly?”

“Yes.” There was no use in denying the truth. “I would choose you, Elijah. Even though my head is telling me it would be the worst decision of my life, my heart is convinced that I would have no life without you.”

The muscle in his jaw pulled taut, and I gasped as he rushed forward, cupping my cheeks tightly in his palms and capturing my lips with a desperate kiss. I was sure I felt the ground crack beneath us, and we fell. It was no longer gravity keeping me grounded. It was his kiss, his touch, the way he consumed and electrified me at the same time. His tongue dueled with mine, claiming my mouth with one hungered sweep after the other.

I kissed him back, not because his onslaught left me no choice, but because I wanted to. I wanted him to feel what I felt, needed him to taste my surrender as he devoured me with one heady kiss that left me breathless.

His lips tore from mine, and our foreheads touched as he refused to let me go. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me, no matter what.”

“Elijah—”

“No matter what, Charlotte. Promise me.”

His thumb brushed along my wet lips, and I closed my eyes, my heart beating a staccato rhythm inside my chest. There was no use even trying, an unnecessary energy vacuum for me to even try to think of a reason I wouldn’t do this.

“I promise,” I whispered, placing my hands on his wrists as he held my cheeks. “I promise I’ll never leave you.”

“Then marry me.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

“Marry me.” He shifted, bringing his body flush against mine. “Marry me tonight.”

I scowled and inched back. “Elijah, what are you doing?”

“I’m proposing.”

“I know that, but why…how…no, Elijah, that’s insane.”

“Give me one reason we shouldn’t get married.”

“I can give a thousand.”

“Fine.” He licked his lips. “I’ll give you one reason we should get married, then.”

“One?”

“Yes. One.” He kissed me then placed a warm palm on my chest. “Because among those thousand reasons you think we shouldn’t get married, your heart still says we should.”

I swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe with the immense weight of this moment. There was no doubt that he owned my heart. My body. My mind. I was his in every way that mattered, and the only thing—no, the only thought that kept me from saying yes was this voice inside my head that kept whispering how fucked-up and distorted everything was. My life had been derailed since the moment he whispered my name in the Alto Theatre. Like a hurricane, he stormed into my life, and he took everything he could. Everything. If he were the devil, he’d most likely have taken my soul too. But I couldn’t think straight. There was no way I could sort through my thoughts.

I gently shook my head. “No, Elijah. I can’t marry you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and I hated the shadow of disappointment in his eyes as he stared at me as if I had just ripped his heart out.

“I can’t marry you because—”

“Of the thousand reasons?”

“No.” I sighed. “Because you so utterly enthrall me, and I’m so consumed with what we have, it’s impossible for me to make a rational decision when it comes to you. Don’t you get it, Elijah? Your presence in my life, the way you possess me makes it hard for me to remember who I really am. To be…me.”

It was excruciating to stand there while he merely stared at me, not saying a word as if I had stolen his last breath. I didn’t dare say anything else, my hands trembling and heart pounding. Elijah’s presence swept through the room, suffocating me in his silence while my heart cursed me for saying no. For creating a scenario where he’d be hurt enough to forget about what we shared and be reminded of what I had always meant to be for him. A debt.

He licked his lips, and all I wanted to do was kiss him. I wanted to have his arms around me while I poured everything I felt for him into one damn kiss. But I couldn’t. A simple kiss wouldn’t be able to mean more than my rejection of his proposal.

“Okay,” he muttered. “Make sure you’re ready for dinner in ten minutes.” He stormed out, and I wanted to go after him, my heart pleading with me to run and tell him yes. Shout it from the goddamn rooftops, yet something stopped me from doing that. The rational side of my mind thought through the haze of this intense connection Elijah and I shared.

I sucked in a breath as a tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away, squaring my shoulders and steeling myself against the ache that had my heart bleeding inside my chest.

“I did the right thing,” I whispered to myself. “But why doesn’t it feel like I did?”

My reflection in the mirror mocked me. I was no longer the girl who played cello in front of an empty audience. I was no longer the Charlotte Moore who cared for nothing else but music. Whether I married Elijah or not, he had changed me forever, and nothing could change that. If I had to return to my life as it was before him, I still wouldn’t be her.

This woman in the mirror wearing the expensive dress, with her hair styled in the perfect updo—not a strand out of place—this was me. The woman whose heart bled out on the carpet because she had just rejected a man who offered her a relationship society had dubbed abnormal and toxic. It was a kind of relationship that offended others, yet it made me soar with more freedom than I had ever experienced before.

My chest rose and fell as I took a deep breath, and my gaze fell on the music box standing on the nightstand. That little box carried such a tragic story of a brother who loved his little sister so unconditionally. A boy who couldn’t save his sister being snatched by the unknown, and he had to live with that his entire life. Brushing my fingers along the box, I wondered if he’d ever find her.

I opened the box, and the music started to play, the little ballerina twirling around and around. Inside laid a little pocket Bible which I overlooked before, snug within the confines of the box.

“Ready?”

I jolted and closed the box, setting it down. “Yes.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was ice, his demeanor cold. It wasn’t my Elijah who stood before me. It was him…The Musician.

Elijah and I made our way to the hotel lobby in silence, my heart pounding with the uncertainty of where this left us, how things would be between us from here on out.

I was on my way to the hotel restaurant when he grabbed my elbow. “This way.”

Unsure, I glanced around. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer me and simply led me in the opposite direction through a double door that took us down a hall. “Elijah, where are you taking me?”

Tightening his fingers around my elbow was his only answer. We walked out into an underground parking area, a silver Maserati idling in front of us. A man dressed in a black suit handed Elijah the keys, and he let go of my arm.

“Get in.”

“What? Where are we going?”

He held the door open for me. “Get in the goddamn car, Charlotte.”

Our eyes met, and I kept his gaze for a second, a storm raging in his irises—a storm I was afraid I wouldn’t survive. But I got into the car anyway.

The door slammed shut, and I watched as Elijah rounded the front of the car, my pulse racing impossibly fast.

“Where are we going?” I asked as he got in behind the wheel.

“You’ll see.”

Lights ignited the narrow streets, boosting the hues of romance that echoed off the tall buildings. Crowds of tourists and locals alike walked on the sidewalks—people laughing, couples kissing, the atmosphere almost electric in the city’s vintage ambiance. It was far more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. No television show or magazine picture did this city justice. Words couldn’t describe the sight of Rome under the stars. The sky was clear of the clouds and rain we had just that morning.

The silence in the car was excruciating as Elijah sped down the streets of Rome. I glanced at him, his silhouette dark as he clutched the steering wheel with his strong hands, veins bulging with the strength that ran through his blood. There was no denying it, Elijah Mariano was a force of power and primal instincts. I was convinced that if God had never made humans and the Earth was only intended to be roamed by divine beings, Elijah would have had his own corner to rule.

My skin prickled as Elijah met my gaze, and I quickly looked away, only to see the colossal building in the distance, getting closer and closer as we kept driving.

“Is that the…” I leaned forward, placing my hand on the dash. “Is that the Colosseum?”

“Yes.”

Chills erupted in my spine, spreading to every corner of my body. “My God,” I breathed as I took in the sight. The majestic building painted with beautiful golds of splendid lights was breathtaking. I couldn’t take my eyes off it, its imperial presence demanding my attention. “It’s beautiful.”

A dialing tone sounded, and I realized Elijah was making a phone call.

An unfamiliar voice answered. “Sir?”

“Is it done?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We’re here.”

The phone call ended, and Elijah parked the car, switching off the engine before getting out. I leaned over. “Elijah—”

My door flung open, and he reached out his hand. “Come on.”

“Are we?” I was dumbfounded. “Are we going in here?”

“Not if we stand out here all night. Get out of the car.”

I lifted the hem of my dress so I wouldn’t step on it as I took his hand, getting out of the car. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” In awe, I kept my gaze on the building, the grandiose structure appearing alive against the backdrop of night, the moon casting an elegant hue across the massive architecturally complex building.

“What are we—” I turned to find Elijah staring at me, his eyes soft, gentle, as if admiring something he had never seen before. I stilled. “What are we doing here?”

He took my hand, the expression on his face unreadable. “Finding another reason.”

“Wha—”

“Just come with me.” He led me toward the building, the early winter chill wrapping its cold tendrils around me, making me shiver.

The exterior of the building consisted of numerous triumphal arches which aesthetically made the building seem less bulky. The triumphal arches reflected the spoils and riches for the crowd it was originally built for. And walking through them, glancing around and taking in the magnificent stone and architecture, I could practically feel the energy of the crowds that used to gather here to watch the gladiators, hunters, and the numerous blood sports that took place right here in this very arena.

“I literally have no words.” I gaped at everything around me, finding it impossible to take it all in. “Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the kind of magic that lingered in these corridors. The history. The stories these walls could tell. Do you think there—” I paused at the sight of the cello leaning against a chair which stood beneath one of the arches. “What is this?”

“Exactly what it looks like.” Elijah traced a finger along the neck of the cello, his other hand tucked into his pants pocket. “I want you to play. Here,” he waved his hand around, “in one of the most magnificent amphitheaters in the world.”

“Elijah. This is…I don’t have words.”

“Good. You don’t need words.” He picked up the cello and held it out to me. “All you need is music.”

I glanced around. “Are we alone here?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know I can’t—”

“Stop saying you can’t, and just play, Charlotte. For once, stop giving a fuck about what other people think, and just do what you want to do.”

We stood there, eyes locked and hearts beating, this indescribable pull between us pulsing like a life source.

I took the cello from him, holding my breath, hoping the haunting pain wouldn’t ruin the moment. But it didn’t, and I let out a sigh of relief as I picked up the bow, loving the feel of it in my hands. The chair creaked as I sat down, lifting the skirt of my dress over my knees. Elijah’s gaze cut to my legs, lingering for a moment before he looked me in the eye again. I removed my shoes, wanting to feel the ground beneath my feet, and I straightened my back—a firm posture, yet my body relaxed.

The neck of the cello rested against my shoulder, my heart already feeling its weight beneath my chest. The pine scent of resin allowed my mind and body to tune in to this majestic instrument—a colossal beacon in my life just like this ancient building was to the world.

Leaning my head to the side, I let out a breath as that brief moment of silence ensued—the time where I found peace from every storming thought, every worry, and every doubt.

I brushed my fingers along the strings, feeling it beneath my fingertips, allowing the music in my soul to flood through me so I could set it free.

I didn’t know what I would play until that very second I eased the bow across the strings and the sound slowly, gently started to move me. Edelweiss. It was the composition my soul demanded, and it flowed down my spine, the deep yet soft sound reaching inside my chest. The music within me escaped, echoing off the strings as I continued to ease the bow. As I moved my fingers up and down the neck of the cello, the vibrato kept me here instead of sweeping me away as it always did. The sound, the harmony, it allowed me to stay right here, with him. Elijah. The man I could feel in my veins, my blood calling out to him as the music grew stronger, the cello and I moving as one. The crescendo ignited, and this was always the moment when I laid my dreams at my feet, baring it all to the world—but this time it was different. The resonating tenor cleared my mind, and I realized this time there was no dream to stem from the magic of music because…I opened my eyes…my dream was standing right there.

I stopped playing, my eyes pinned on Elijah, who stared at me as if I was his last hope. There was no darkness in his irises, no malicious intent splayed on his expression as he regarded me.

“I love you, Charlotte.” He stepped closer. “I’ve loved you since that day I heard you play this same song. I might be a monster in this world,” he held out his hand, and I took it, standing up, “but I want to be a colossus in yours.”

I smiled at his choice of words, my heart feeling like it would break free from my chest as the love I felt for this man became utterly profound and unmistakable. He was right. I had to stop entertaining thoughts society had programmed us to think.

This is wrong.

This is twisted.

This is madness.

How can this be love when it hurts?

Well, it could. It could be love and hurt at the same time. It could be utter madness yet the sanest thing I had ever done. And it could be the biggest mistake of my life, or the best decision I ever made.

“Yes,” I whispered, finally allowing my heart to drown out my thoughts. “I’ll marry you.”