Falling for the Villain by M. Robinson

CHAPTER THREE

Romeo

“Say it again. Slower this time.”

I circled the beaten bodyguard and tried to keep myself from ripping his head from his shoulders with a fucking smile on my face.

Alessandro lowered his head with a wince. “It was fast, Romeo. Two men in all black, they looked like ours. It’s all I saw.”

I couldn’t speak.

I simply reacted.

Throwing the first chair my hands could find against the wall, followed by another, and when everything was in chaos, my eyes fell to Alessandro, wondering if his head would split in two against the soundproof concrete room? Only one way to find out.

I charged toward him. He was the one who was supposed to be watching her, and they could have taken my son Naz too. They could have taken my wife, and my whole world would be in shambles.

Instead, they kidnapped my sister. Which was just as bad. He shouldn’t be living; hell, he shouldn’t even be fucking breathing.

“What do you think your punishment should be? For allowing Juliet Sinacore to slip from your grip and into someone’s grasp? Huh? How should I fucking kill you?”

The only sounds that could be heard were his bones crunching, and his screaming filled my ears like a calming symphony. Only reminding me of my baby sister playing the piano for me.

His death wouldn’t bring her back, but I didn’t care. Does that make me any different than the men who took Juliet?

Blood splattered.

His last breath.

My eyes locked with his, so he would only see me in death.

In Hell.

Because let’s fucking face it, that was where we were both going in the end.

Donovan

Itrailed my fingers across the angry red skin of her flesh, gripping onto the belt in my left hand. I watched the way the water streamed down the blood on her skin and toward the drain making it disappear from her body. Whatever remaining human part of me that still existed was screaming in outrage, even though I was smiling.

I wanted her to fight me so bad it burned and ached inside of me.

“Do it, Juliet. I fucking dare you.”

I could see it in her eyes—she wanted to try me. Her gaze shifted toward the belt in my hands before she stepped out of the shower, and I snapped the belt to her ankle. Not enough to draw blood, but to get my point across.

“You don’t move unless I tell you to. Understood?”

Even her wet hair was tempting me as it draped down her breasts.

Jesus, she was breathtaking.

She nodded with tears still cascading down her flushed face, and I resisted the urge to fix the wounds I’d just inflicted. I would, but not now. The moment had come for me to start the process of truly making her mine in every sense of the word.

“Turn around.”

Her vulnerability was almost too much for me to bear as she spun, following my orders. I stepped behind her while she faced the mirror. Grabbing the scissors from the pocket of my slacks, I skimmed the cool metal against her fair skin.

Her breathing caught, and with wide eyes, she watched in horror through the mirror as I ran the steel down her arm.

Across her chest.

Over her heart and then back up to her neck.

One of the first steps necessary in breaking her was getting rid of her old life and having her fit mine. In the way I saw her, wanted her, she belonged to me now, and I wouldn’t stop until she fit my fantasy perfectly. I glided my fingers through her wet, heavy hair and then jerked it with my fist.

“Every woman wants to be you. Every man wants to fuck you.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, and I forced her to look up at me. I cut the final thread in her mentally, emotionally, physically… With one snip, and then another, and another, a waterfall of tears poured down her cheeks while I battled the desire to lick them off her face with my tongue against her soft white skin.

Her hair fell from my fingers onto the ground, surrounding her in a broken halo. I hacked her dark hair until it was to her shoulders, holding up the last piece in front of her eyes so she could see how serious I was in who she belonged to.

“You hid from the world through your long, thick black hair, and I won’t allow you to hide from me. Nothing between us, not even your luscious hair.”

Her lips trembled, seeing herself in the mirror. The bruise on her temple, the lashes on her chest and stomach, along with her new haircut.

“Where’s my tough girl, Juliet? Where did you she go?”

She didn’t reply, and I could see she was going into shock.

“If you pass out, I’ll only revive you and finish what I started. There’s no escaping me, and the faster you realize that the easier this will be for you. Now, what do you say?”

Her mouth opened, and a strangled noise followed as she whispered, “Thank you.”

“Now, say it like you mean it.”

Fire flashed behind those tears. “Thank you,” she firmly stated.

I leaned down and tenderly kissed her forehead. Then uttered, “You’re welcome.”

Juliet

Ichoked on my tears of betrayal, bitterness building inside my soul until my heart felt like it was going to drown with it. I didn’t recognize the woman staring back at me.

She was a stranger.

An imposter.

Lost.

My eyes shifted to his handsome, deceiving face through the mirror in front of us. I knew there was no place to run for cover.

Protection.

All I had was him.

The fucking villain.

And how pathetic was I that even through my tears of hopelessness, I still tried to turn to him for comfort—for sympathy, for anything really that would trick me into thinking this was a fairy tale when it was anything but that.

I was in his hell.

He wrapped his arms around my naked body, without morals, without rules, without a heart; he held me against his sturdy chest and allowed me to bawl my eyes out.

I was falling to the ground.

Fallen.

Gone.

And still—to my villain, I clung.