Page 54 of Always A Villain

Adrenaline surges in my veins as my feet pound the pavement. He’s right beside me, gripping my arm, steering me through the streets. We round a warehouse corner, and he drags me toward a side door, slamming it open against the brick.

I can’t even process the fact that Axe—myAxe—is the masked man.

My mind keeps going back to that divorce agreement he signed, sealing our fate like I didn’t matter. I can’t think straight, only seeing red.

He yanks me through a dim, narrow hallway, practically dragging me toward a staircase.

“Up,” he orders. “Now.”

I stomp up the stairs, every step a mix of agony and anger. My body resists in protest, cuts stinging, muscles aching. I swallow the tears, pushing them back, refusing to give in to the pain.

“Where the hell are we going?”

“Up.” No explanation, just that growl of his.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Noted. Now move.”

He doesn’t evenwantme.

At the top, he grabs me again, pulling me through another door and down a filthy, abandoned hallway. Dust and grime cover everything, the air thick with decay. It’s likethe whole building is crumbling around us, just like my trust in him.

Axe is the masked man.

Everything—everything—was a lie.

He’s been playing me this entire time, manipulating me, and like a fucking idiot, I fell for it. I grit my teeth against a sob as he shoves me into a room cluttered with crates, a dirty window barely letting in light.

“Sit,” he commands.

“Fuck. You.” My voice cracks.

With anger radiating off him like heat, his grip tightens on my arm. I spit in his face. It drips down his cheek, and a sick sense of satisfaction flares inside me.

His hand clamps around my jaw, fingers biting into my skin. “I should kill you.”

“Then fucking do it,” I hiss back. “You don’t want me anyway.”

Something flickers in his eyes. His grip holds for a second longer before he shoves me back. “You’re the most difficult person on the entire fucking planet,” he snaps, wiping the spit off his face. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

I don’t have a response. My heart’s too shattered. He’s the masked man. The one who made me feel safe, protected...wanted.

It was all a fucking lie.

“Sit. The. Fuck. Down.”

I glare and cross my arms—refusing to budge. He steps closer, his chest almost touching mine.

“I don’t have time for your fucking bullshit. Sit. Down.Now.”

Snarling, I sink onto a dusty crate anyway, arms crossed, glaring daggers.

He kneels in front of me, grabbing my chin and tilting my face. His touch makes my stomach churn.

“Who hit you?”

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I blink back tears. “You can’t be him,” I whisper.