Page 27 of Wicked Villain

“I’m not marrying you.” I decide to bring the conversation back.

“Sorry to break it to you, but you are. Which brings me to the subject of our discussion.” He reaches for an envelope on the desk and pulls out what looks like a contract. He flicks through the numerous pages until he reaches the end and points to a signature—my father’s. I’d know it anywhere. “Your old man signed you over to me.”

I shake my head in disbelief, and that hard lump drifts back into my throat, swelling. “He would never. The Bellandis…” I don’t know what to say. My father has been obsessed with the plans to merge with the Bellandis all my life. It was so important to him that all he cared about when Gabrielle died was keeping things as they were so his precious plans could go ahead. The Bellandis wanted Gabrielle because Danillo wanted her.

“The arrangement with the Bellandis has been cancelled,” Lev informs me, his expression becoming more serious. “You will no longer be required to marry Danillo.”

“Why is this happening?”

He steps around the table and moves closer. “Don’t tell me you’re distraught to lose Danillo. Did you actually love him?”

“That’s none of your business.” I hate what’s happening, and hearing that I don’t have to marry Danillo is like music to my soul, but I would never allow Lev to see the depth of my relief.

“Oh, poor, poor girl. You do love him.” He must have mistaken my silence. I won’t correct him. He steps closer. I step back. “Funny you haven’t asked about him. For all you know, he could have bled to death.”

“Did he?” I wouldn’t care, but I’d like to know.

“Sadly, no. Your former fiancé is very much alive. Just needed patching up.” He shoots me a clipped smile. “But, sweetheart… you should know that Danillo Bellandi most definitely does not love you.”

My gaze narrows. He’s right on two counts. Danillo loves no one, not even Gabrielle, whom he was obsessed with. He only wanted her because she was so good at everything. Danillo also doesn’t love me because technically, I’m not my sister.

“You don’t know that,” I challenge, trying to appear hurt.

“Malyshka, it was your sick mother who shielded you last night when all hell came to play at your engagement party.” The shit-eating grin that slides across his handsome face cuts deeper than it should. “It was your mother who would have taken a bullet for you and pleaded for your life. Danillo only spoke up, and got himself shot, when he saw his precious opportunity slipping away from him.”

He’s not wrong. A blind person could have seen all of that. He’s so observant, I’d bet he also noticed how my father didn’t even think to shield me, either.

“Everyone was being careful,” I say, just because I need to say something.

One more step closer. I take another back.

“Careful, she says.” He chuckles deep. “A Bratva man wouldn’t allow another to shield his woman. Definitely not her sick mother. The only thing he cares about when there’s danger is his woman’s life. He’d shield her life with his and die for her in a heartbeat.”

Somehow, those words hook me. It’s the passion and fervency with which he spoke them. Like it’s really true, and he knows it, and he’d really do that for someone he loved.

It sounds strange coming from someone as abrasive as him.

“You sound so noble.”

That menacing grin returns and he shakes his head. “No, printsessa. I wasn’t talking about me.”

That’s more like him. His expression shifts, and the psycho returns.

I move to step back, but he closes the distance between us before I can even blink.

Just like last night, I’m shoved against the wall. At least this wall is smoother than the one outside.

He leans down like he’s going to kiss me again, and I hold my breath.

“Enough talking about shit. We’re getting married, and that’s the end of it.”

“What did my father do? What power do you hold over him?” I have to know. This is all so damn strange. My life changed the moment that number was echoed—1685. What does it all mean?

“All you need to know right now is your father is a very, very bad man.”

“That tells me nothing.” They’re all very, very bad men.

“Well, that’s all you’re getting, malyshka,” he whispers over my lips. “He sinned one time too many, and now you have to pay the price.”