Page 16 of Claimed By the Villain

Soon enough, someone will approach. I know that for a fact.

It’s not my first time going out or dancing with a stranger, but tonight I’m stepping into huntress mode.

I’m the one choosing my prey. And I’m taking him home with me.

Lucifer

I wrestle with myself for a solid five minutes.

Logic tells me to leave her alone. Nothing will happen to her. Jackie can party all night and get shit-faced, and she’ll still make it home safely—because I’ll make sure of it.

But after all these years of watching her from a distance, this is the first time I don’t want to assign someone else to the task. And I have no idea why.

I know being near her is dangerous, for both of us, but I follow her back inside the club anyway.

I don’t go to places like this unless I’m here to kill someone.

I feel like a damn outsider, and I swear I want to spank Jackie’s ass for making me want to chase her.

I search the whole hellhole for half an hour, combing every corner of the first floor, until one of my men calls to say he spotted her in a more exclusive area upstairs.

When I get there, I lean against a wall, hidden in the shadows, and I watch her. But not like before. Now, to my own dismay, I’m fully aware that Jackie is a woman.

Yeah, I saw her grow up, watched her body change, but in my mind, she was still a kid. There’s a nine-year gap between us.

And yet, I’m stunned tonight by how I never noticed the stunning woman she’s become.

Frustration boils in me when I realize there’s no going back. I’ll never see her as just Martin’s little sister again. Her beauty radiates in the way her hips move, lost in the music, arms above her head, that gorgeous face oblivious to the bastards around her just waiting to pounce.

Hypnotized, I watch her dance. It’s like every turn of her body tells a year of her story—since I left their house for good, when she was fifteen.

It’s an overdose of her growth. Of the fact that she’s a full-grown woman now—all in a matter of minutes.

My gut tells me to walk away, but I ignore it. I tell myself, just for tonight, I’ll watch her up close—because her words from earlier are still burning in my brain.

“Yes, I’ve been drinking, guardian. And you know what? I’ll drink even more tonight, because I’m done waiting for you, Lucifer. Maybe I don’t want protection anymore. Maybe I want risk. And maybe I’ll find someone tonight who’ll give me that.”

I force myself to look around, partly because I always have to stay alert, partly because watching Jackie this closely,reallyseeingher for the first time, is making me hard. And that feels fucking wrong.

But I can’t stop it.

Jackie radiates life, joy, freedom.

And I’m death, darkness, trapped inside my own mind.

Her light calls to me. I want a piece of it.

My eyes lock on her again.

She’s not even trying, but every man on that floor is drawn to her.

She lights up the whole damn place.

The energy coming off her is consuming me, making me want to go to her.

It’s not a pleasant feeling—not for someone like me. Wanting closeness? That shit’s dangerous.

A waiter steps in front of me, blocking my view of the dance floor. I shake my head at his drink offer and almost shove the fucker aside, but he finally leaves.