The Villain

by Shen, L. J.

  “Petar!”

  My roar nearly tore my vocal cords and likely caused the windows some damage. My estate manager was there within seconds, having never heard me raise my voice before.

  I was sorting through her closet, trying to see if she’d left some of her essentials here. The things she loved and cherished the most.

  She hadn’t.

  Dammit.

  “Sir, do you need anything?” Petar said from the doorway.

  I turned to him.

  “Yes. I need to know where the fuck is my wife?”

  By the look on his face, I wasn’t done shocking people with my recent use of profanity. He snapped quickly, shaking his head.

  “I…ah…she…she didn’t say. I figured she was going on a weekend somewhere?”

  “And why would you figure that?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Well, because she took several suitcases with her and didn’t want any help with them.”

  “Did she say where she was going?” I demanded.

  “No, sir.”

  “How many suitcases did she take with her?”

  “Quite a few.”

  “Do you know how to count, Petar?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now’s the time to use those math skills and give me a fucking number.”

  He gulped, doing the math with his fingers.

  “Seven. She took seven suitcases, sir.”

  “And you thought she was going for a weekend,” I lamented. I was surrounded by idiots. He swallowed hard, about to say something, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear it. I stormed into my room. A part of me wanted to chase her ass and bring her back home, where she should be, but another acknowledged that I’d done quite enough of twisting her arm to my will, and that she could very well decide to testify against me in the Arrowsmith case if I continued pushing her.

  The thought shocked me.

  The idea of Persephone sitting on the stand telling people how I’d mistreated her sickened me.

  I grabbed my oak desk, looking out the window, digging my fingers into it so hard, the wood broke into splinters. I clutched the surface until my fingers were bloodied and shaking with exhaustion. Until the tremors in my body ceased.

  Don’t lose it.

  Don’t lose it because of a woman.

  Don’t lose it at all.

  I grabbed my phone out of my pocket, about to text Sam.

  He had to tell his men to stop following her.

  Then I had to tell her I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.

  I slid my thumb over the screen just as I got an incoming message.

  Persephone: You refuse to let me go, but you won’t have me. If you won’t get a divorce, I will. You can’t keep me against my will. Don’t call me. Don’t text me. Don’t come anywhere near me. Don’t worry. I won’t file until after the trial against Green Living is over. Your secret’s safe with me. You wanted to marry a stranger. Congratulations. You just made me one.

  “I’m going to kill my brother,” Sailor announced.

  She was standing in the middle of Belle’s studio, cradling her baby bump.

  My sister, Ash, and I were tucked on the couch inside a giant throw, sipping wine in glasses the size of fishbowls. I called the girls for an emergency meeting the minute I’d left my house.

  My husband’s house.

  Our marriage wasn’t real, and neither was our partnership.

  Right now, both seemed in real jeopardy of surviving the latest blow.

  “You’ll off Sam, I’ll murder Kill,” Belle talked to Sailor, rubbing my arm reassuringly. “I’m leaning toward castrating him and letting him bleed out. Not necessarily using a blunt object. Something that would make the process slow and painful.”

  “Medically speaking, I don’t think there’s a non-painful way to castrate a man to death,” Ash murmured into her wine glass, her eyes flying in my direction. “Was it really that bad?”

  “Yes, it was,” Sailor retorted before I had the chance to answer. “You know Pers, she’d never breathe a bad word about someone if her life depended on it. Hunter was there, and he told me himself. Said he was shocked by Kill’s behavior. Recently, he was under the impression Cillian and you had a good thing going.”

  “Honestly? I was dumb enough to think the same.” I burrowed into my sister’s neck. Now that I didn’t have to be strong and resilient anymore, all I wanted was to break down and cry in the arms of the people I knew would never judge me.

  Aisling wrinkled her nose, placing a hand on my knee.

  “You know I think Kill having private investigators follow you is deplorable, but you never actually told us what the nature of your relationship was. Again, I’m not trying to make excuses for my brother. I grew up seeing him at his best and his worst, so I know both versions of him are frightening to the average person. But your relationship was never explained,” Ash said gently. “I just want to make sure we’re getting the entire picture so we can advise you accordingly.”

  “Ash’s got a point.” Belle peered down at me. “You just told us you’re getting hitched one day, then poof!” She snapped her fingers. “You were a married woman. Every time we see you with your husband, he looks at you like you’re the brightest star in the sky. At the same time, we all know you did not go the usual couple route. Tell us how you became Mrs. Fitzpatrick.”

  The question wasn’t unwarranted. What we had looked bizarre to outsiders.

  Heck, it was weird from the inside, too.

  My friends rolled with the punches because that was what we did—we had each other’s back unconditionally—but nothing about my marriage made sense.

  I grabbed a handful of tissues, dabbing my nose and eyes. My head hurt from all the crying. Taking a breath, I started.

  “When Paxton left me, he didn’t leave me with nothing. He left me with a hundred thousand dollars of debt. It was the worst eight months of my life. The loan sharks he’d been indebted to chased me around, lurked outside my workplace, patrolled Belle’s apartment…it got real bad. They even physically attacked me one time.”

  A shiver that felt awfully like Kaminski’s finger ran down my backbone.

  Belle’s hold on me tightened. Aisling held her breath, and Sailor stared at me with open horror. I turned to my sister.

  “It was the time I told you I got mugged. I didn’t want to ask Hunter, Sailor, or Aisling for the money. It wasn’t a small sum. It was a straight up fortune.”

  “We wouldn’t have minded!” Aisling cried out.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Sailor rolled her eyes. “Of course you could’ve asked us for it. You’re family.”

  I shook my head. It didn’t matter that I almost did. All that mattered was that I hadn’t.

  “When things went from bad to worse with the creditors, I went to Cillian’s office and asked for a loan. He said no. A few days later, he came back with the marriage proposal. He said all my problems would go away if I said yes, and…well, he kept his promise.”

  I told them about our contract. About my hesitation, stemming from how much I’d always liked him. How my crush on him never fully wore off. How I convinced myself marriage would come first, but that he would grow into loving me back as time went by.

  I took a shovel, dug into the ugly parts, and dumped them on the coffee table for my friends and sister to dissect and interpret. By the time I was done, there was only one more confession to make in order to feel completely liberated.

  “Wanna know what the worst part is?” I grabbed the cheap bottle of wine—was it our fourth or fifth?—pouring a generous helping into my glass. “That I still love him. I’ve always loved him. The first time I saw him at that charity ball Sailor dragged us to because she didn’t want to be alone with Hunter and I set my sight on Cillian, I knew. I knew one day he would take my soul, set it on fire, and walk all over my ashes when it was all done and dealt with. I’d known it from the very moment I found myself staring at him while he was watching Emmabelle
from across the room. He was lost in my sister, but I found myself—everything I’d ever wanted—in him.”

  “Kill never looks directly at the things he wants.” Ash squeezed my hand. “He says desire is a weakness. If he wanted Belle, he wouldn’t have looked at her.”

  “I don’t know what to do.” I dropped my head to me knees, sighing. “I told him I want a divorce after the Green Living lawsuit is over. I need to leave. Leave before he breaks whatever’s still left in me. Leave before he leaves me.”

  The last sentence robbed me of my breath. There was a good chance Cillian was going to come to the conclusion I wasn’t worth the drama. Cut his losses and move on to the next wife on the list. Nothing went smoothly between us. I wasn’t pregnant yet. I was working for his enemy, still keeping in touch with my ex-husband’s grandmother…

  It was not what he wanted, and Kill Fitzpatrick always got what he wanted.

  Not to mention, I couldn’t live like this anymore, either. Straddling the line between real and fake.

  Belle was the first to speak.

  “My mind and my heart are at war right now. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m about to give you my heart’s advice. Remember at the cabin, all those months ago? When Cillian bet his ass in poker and left the money for Sailor and me to take? The only thing he asked was for us not to badmouth him to you. It was very telling, mostly because Kill’s name is being dragged through the mud on a daily basis in the news and he doesn’t seem to give a shit. I think he cares for you. I think he doesn’t want to care for you, but he does. He doesn’t want your loved ones to tell you not to be with him. I lost a bet, and I intend to respect it. I can’t tell you to leave him, Pers. Not now. Not yet.”

  My gut twisted.

  “Sam always says, a child who is not loved by his village will burn it down to feel its warmth,” Sailor said quietly. She took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, raking her fingers through her fire-red hair. “I think Cillian has been watching everything around him burn for far too long. The Fitzpatrick men are wounded, but they hide it very well, and from what I gather, very differently. If anyone can stop him from destroying the rest of the world, it’s you. Give him time,” Sailor whispered. “It’s the most precious gift of all.”

  I turned to Aisling. She was the only person to remain quiet. She was also the only person who didn’t lose the bet with Kill.

  “I think”—she bit her lower lip—“my brother wants you. I think he cares for you. But I also know he was the same man who blackmailed you into marrying him. He knew your life was in danger, and he took advantage of you. I don’t know if this is the kind of environment you want to raise your child in.” She rubbed at her forehead, struggling to let the words out. “I grew up in a dysfunctional family, and I don’t have it in me to recommend you go the same route. I don’t think you should stay.”

  We were split down the middle now.

  Stay or walk away?

  My heart said one thing; my brain said another.

  In the end, it was my body that won.

  I fell asleep in the arms of my best friends.

  My estranged husband did not contact me for two weeks.

  I’d spent every single day with Tinder and Tree, ignoring Cillian right back. Just because I didn’t truly leave him, didn’t mean I was going to actively seek him out. Something had been broken the day I’d found out he had me followed—maybe even cheated on me—and I needed time.

  I moved back to the apartment he’d set up for me. Just a little F-you to my husband, letting him know I intended to make use of all the plush amenities he’d offered me.

  When Saturday rolled around, I showed up to my tutoring session with Tinder and Tree bearing gifts. I wasn’t Gerald Fitzpatrick. I couldn’t fault the two nuggets for their father’s sins, and I’d grown to love and care for them.

  Especially Tinder, who needed every ounce of love he could get.

  “Guess who is here, and with presents!” Joelle announced when she opened the door for me that morning. I marched in carrying bags of goods. Tinder and Tree descended the stairway, squealing in delight. Tree slid down the bannisters making pirate noises while Tinder bounced on his toes all the way down. They both tackle-hugged me. We fell on the floor in a heap of breathless giggles.

  “Auntie Persy, look what I made for you.” Tinder shoved a drawing in my face. The title gave me pause. He thought of me as family, and I wasn’t family. I was, in fact, just the opposite. Still, I plucked the paper between his pudgy fingers, gasping and asking questions.

  “It’s a map. If we follow it, we’ll get to heaven, and in heaven, everyone is nice, and no one hits you!” Tinder exclaimed.

  I whipped my head in his direction, about to ask him who, exactly, hit him, when Tree pounced on me.

  “What’d you get us?” Tree grabbed my cheeks, squashing them. “Is it a truck? I told Mommy I want one for Christmas. Red. It has to be red. It must. Your favorite color, right, Auntie Persy?”

  “Tree, my gosh, why would you say that? Any gift is welcome. The fact she thought about you is enough.” Joelle scoffed. Our eyes met, and we shared a smile. In the past few months, we’d built a tentative friendship, based on our shared love for her sons. I knew it wasn’t easy for her to open up to me. Especially seeing as she had to slam her door in the faces of journalists and cameramen on a daily basis every time my husband leaked an unflattering piece of news about hers.

  Andrew Arrowsmith was no longer the media’s sweetheart thanks to my husband.

  Now they were both bad men who hated each other and stopped at nothing to destroy one another.

  I wanted to give her the tools to be there for Tinder and Tree.

  Especially now that I’d been with the family long enough to know Andrew’s presence in the boys’ life was almost nonexistent.

  “You’re here,” Andrew’s steely voice rumbled, and we all looked up to the top of the stairways.

  The timing of him being here made my heart leap. “Andrew.”

  “How’re you doing, sweetheart? Is that savage husband of yours still giving you trouble?”

  “Andrew!” Joelle yapped, blushing.

  I raised my hand up.

  “It’s okay.” I turned to smile at her husband. “Actually, I moved out.”

  The words felt bitter on my tongue. What an incredibly traitorous thing to say. But I had to throw my plan into high gear. I didn’t know how much time I had with the family. How much time I had with Cillian. I was working against the clock.

  “You did?” His eyebrows jumped to his hairline. “Why, if I may ask?”

  I was still sitting on the floor, the twins in my arms.

  “I’m not so sure it’s going to work out after all.”

  “I see. How unfortunate.”

  I smiled politely. “Well, I have a day full of activities with the kids. I better get started.”

  He nodded distractedly. “Yes. Of course. I won’t keep you. I have some…some phone calls to make.”

  To his lawyers, no doubt. He probably wondered if it was the right time to ask me to testify against my husband.

  “Thank you for sharing this information, Persephone. It means a lot to us to have your trust. You’d tell us if Mr. Fitzpatrick mistreated you in any way, wouldn’t you?”

  And there it was.

  The bottom line.

  The master plan we both had for my being here.

  “Of course. You guys are like family to me.”

  The Lannisters, but whatever.

  Andrew turned around and made his way back to his office. I proceeded to hand Tree and Tinder their gifts, with Joelle standing next to us. I motioned for her to come join us. She did.

  “Thank you, you shouldn’t have.” She crouched down. “I know you save every penny.”

  “I love the boys.”

  Tinder unwrapped his first gift. A chewing necklace. Shark-toothed shaped. He yelped in delight, thrusting it in his mother’s hand.

 
“Can y-you put it on m-me, Mommy?”

  She stared at him for a moment, shocked. I had a feeling she didn’t have many moments like these with her children.

  “I…of course. Turn around, sweetie.”

  I watched them as Tree unwrapped his present—a bike helmet—blabbing happily about how he wanted a motorcycle when he grew up. Joelle’s hands shook as she wrapped the toddler necklace around her son’s neck. Tears pricked my eyes. Somewhere along the way, Joelle had forgotten how to mother. Or maybe she never got the chance to be one at all, always helping her husband chase his dreams.

  Tinder twitched, curling and uncurling his fists, making animal noises, which he did often.

  “I was raised by au pairs,” Joelle said grimly, her eyes still on the necklace she was putting on Tinder. “I thought that’s the way things were supposed to be. I never planned on having a son who is…”

  “Special?” I finished for her softly. “It’s a blessing. It makes you grow. Find your strength. There’s a lot we can learn from children. Things we’d already forgotten but shouldn’t have.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what’s important in life. Family. Friendship. The beauty of a lone cloud sailing across a perfectly blue sky. Kids have their priorities straight. It’s us adults who sometimes forget the meaning of life. Now come.” I stood, offering her my hand. I was forming an unlikely friendship with a woman who fantasized about destroying my husband no less than I wanted to topple hers. “Let’s make new memories with the boys. It’s not too late. It’s never too late.”

  I led everyone to the two bikes I’d purchased earlier that week. I used my own paycheck, refraining from touching Kill’s allowance. The money continued piling up in my account, like a mountain of broken promises and cracked dreams.

  We spent the rest of the afternoon in the backyard, teaching the boys how to ride a bike with no training wheels. Tree got the hang of it quickly while Tinder clung to me and made me promise not to let go of his bike the entire time. It took four hours and a hundred attempts before Tinder managed to ride a zigzagged line, but he did it, and my heart was ready to burst when I saw his face light up.

  “I’m doing it! I’m riding!” He laughed. Tree followed behind on his bike, making racecar noises. Joelle and I looked at them, laughing.