Page 117 of Wicked Villain

It’s nearly midnight now. I got back early, but she was already asleep.

Roman told me she looked upset after dinner with her parents. He even brought her back earlier than planned.

I want to know what happened. Chances are Corrado upset her. It wouldn’t have been Mirella.

I’m having one of my episodes again, where sleep won’t come, so here I am entertaining my thoughts.

While the idea of Corrado pissing off my wife doesn’t sit well with me, I know there’s a line I still can’t cross, as much as I want to. Still, it depends on what happened.

I take a drag on my cigar and this time I blow the smoke out the window. I would have preferred to smoke something a lot more satisfying and illegal, but I didn’t want to risk it. The princess would definitely smell it and wake up.

I guess I don’t want to overload her with my badness.

Fuck me. I would have never made such exceptions for anyone, before her. Especially when I feel this aggravated.

I don’t like the situation with Corrado and Moretti. Since the shit that went down yesterday, I feel like they have some advantage over us. I hate that I can’t see what it is.

It shouldn’t be this hard for a man like me to find Moretti. But really, it’s only this hard because he has the right people hiding him.

I put the cigar down in the ashtray and pick up my SIG Sauer P226. I remove the magazine and make sure the chamber is empty, but I’m still looking at Gabrielle.

Suddenly, she gasps, breaking the silence, then she turns onto her back and moves her head from side to side viciously.

“No,” she mumbles, shielding her face. “No, please. Don’t.”

I rest my gun back down and lean forward, watching her.

She’s having a nightmare, and it looks like one hell of a bastard.

“Please, no. Stop. Don’t hurt me! Please,” she screams, arms thrashing wildly. “Oh God, no!”

Shit. Those arms keep moving as if she’s trying to fight off an attacker. I get up the moment I realize and make my way over to her.

I switch on the light and grasp her shoulders.

“Gabrielle.” I try to shake her, but she doesn’t wake up. “Malyshka, wake up.”

She bolts up as if she’s running and slams right into my chest. Then she throws her arms around me and breaks down. Crying.

I hold her, wrapping my arms around her, so she knows she’s safe.

Tears drop onto my bare chest as she sobs, her body shuddering against me.

“It’s okay. I got you, printsessa.”

“Oh Lev,” she whimpers, inching away to look at me. She blinks against her tears, as though checking I’m real.

“It’s okay.” I touch her cheeks. “You’re with me.”

“I…” Her voice trails off when a stream of blood runs out of her nose.

Whatever she was dreaming has affected her so much her nose is bleeding.

I grab a wad of tissue from the box from the nightstand, and press it to her nose, absorbing the blood.

“I…”

She attempts again but she’s shaking.