Page 101 of The Villain's Beast

Stretching my legs out in front of me, I found as much flexibility as I could in the hard and cold plastic waiting room chair. The coffee was burned, the vending machine empty. I was cranky, tired, and alone, but I wasn’t going to leave. Regardless of what came of the Sinclair and North dynasties after today, I was still Luca Mandeville and I was still second to Gideon North. I would stand by as he needed until he told me not to.

I was loyal in ways my father never would be. It was that loyalty, thatdevotion, that gave me the foresight to get clothes for Gideon before running to the police station. He’d been brought in directly from the pool in his Speedo and a towel, andthe jumpsuit they offered him at the top of the first hour was too small in every way. I’d forced them to give him the clothes I brought, and when they’d finally had their fill of interrogating him, Gideon emerged from the bathroom looking weary, but well dressed.

“What’s the verdict?” I asked, fidgeting with the frame of my glasses.

“It was self-defense,” he answered.

I didn’t think I’d ever know if the cops truly believed him or if the Angelini family had a hand in paying someone off to make Francis North go away with as little fanfare as possible, but I was a smart enough man to know it didn’t matter.

“Seems to be going around,” I said, gesturing toward the door with my head.

Gideon furrowed his brow, but followed me outside, waiting until we were safely across the street from the station to ask for clarification.

“What do you mean?”

“I heard them talking while you were in the interview room.” I scrubbed a hand over my mouth, unsure if I should be the one to deliver the news or if it would be better served coming from Fletcher’s mouth. “Miller Sinclair is dead too.”

“Is Fletcher all right?”

“I had to give him a black eye over the whole thing?—”

Gideon rounded on me like he was ready to throw me into traffic, and I backpedaled, holding up my hands in surrender. “Hey, hey, he asked me to! He asked me to!”

“Why?”

“He pu—well…his father attacked him and ended up falling off the balcony in your office during the scuffle.”

“He atta…he fell???My office?”

“We’re going to Thorn Hill,” I told him. “You can get caught up, and besides, the three of them are probably worried sick about you.”

“And you,” he offered.

“Daren is, I’m sure.”

We made a turn, walking across campus toward Thorn Hill. My car was at the police station, but the air and the freedom was more than welcome after hours cooped up in the poorly ventilated police station.

“Bellamy too,” Gideon said. “And probably Fletcher.”

I snorted, glancing up at him to gauge his seriousness. “Fletcher only has eyes for you.”

“He’s fucked you.”

“I said eyes, B. His cock is far less discriminating.”

Gideon chuckled, and something tangled uncomfortably in my stomach.

“Does that bother you?” I asked, knocking my hand against his. “That we’ve fucked?”

“I’d be a hypocrite if it did.”

“No one’s perfect.”

“Fletcher and I have come too far to not have everything,” he said quietly, Thorn Hill coming unto view at the end of the road.

“Does this mean I’m finally going to get a shot at you?”

Gideon dragged us both to a stop and took my face into his hands. I’d never felt so impossibly small as I did with my cheeks cradled in his massive palms. I shivered, knowing those hands that touched me so tenderly had just caused a man to lose his life. The power Gideon North carried was far more than hypothetical. It curled and coiled in every inch of his muscular form, barely restrained and only so because he chose to.