Page 13 of Once A Villain

His expression twists with pure hatred, and I chuckle.

Outside the theater, I pause to plant a tracker on Rory’s G-Wagon. Keeping tabs on her will make things easier. Sliding into my black Lexus LFA, I fire up the engine and peel out of the parking lot.

My next stop: the notorious Jamie Harper.

Time to send a clear message to the Sovereign—Rory is my property now, and no one fucks with what’s mine.

The engine roars as I weave through traffic, the cityscape a blur. I soon pull up to his apartment building, bypassing the doorbell with a single, forceful kick. Inside, the place is a mess—beer bottles and empty liquor containers strewn about. It’s not long before I hear the front door open and Jamie’s voice drifts in from the hallway.

“Yep, the usual. 10k,” he mumbles into his phone, barely glancing up. Christ, he’s a pathetic excuse for a Sovereign. Even a blind man would notice a door kicked in.

He hangs up, shuffling deeper into his apartment’s wreckage, oblivious to my presence.

I clear my throat deliberately.

Jamie jumps, his eyes snapping to me. “Jesus! Axe.”

His reaction is cliché, but it’s no less satisfying. I’m not someone you want showing up unannounced.

“Harper.”

I catch the unmistakable scent of fear wafting from him.

“Axe, what can I do for you?” he stammers, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. He may be a Sovereign, but he’s a weak link—more interested in getting high and fucking Sluts.

I don’t respond, letting his fear build.

“If this is about Rory,” he continues, nervously raking a hand through his messy hair, his body swaying slightly. “I didn’t know she was yours, man. She didn’t say anything until this morning.”

“You fucked her.” It’s a statement, not a question.

He swallows hard and nods.

“Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. We’re friends. We’ve fucked before.” I tighten my grip, my jaw clenched. “I wouldn’t have touched her if I’d known.”

I step closer, drawing my switchblade with a metallic click. His face pales, his body locking up.

“Do you know why they call me The Reaper?” Every fucking Sovereign knows the answer. Jamie doesn’t respond, only stares back, trying to mask his fear, but it’s all too visible and delicious.

I see the flicker of indecision in his eyes—maybe he’s weighing the possibility of drawing a weapon and taking me on. I welcome the challenge, eager to see if he’s stupid enough to try.

“Touch my property again, and I’ll kill you. Slowly. Painfully.” Without hesitation, I drive the blade deep into his thigh, hitting bone. His scream tears through the room as he collapses to the floor. “If I have to come back, Harper, I’ll carve you open and make you fucking walk as your intestines spill out.” I yank the blade from his thigh, and turn on my heel, leaving him writhing in a pool of his blood.

I exit the apartment, a surge of euphoria hitting me. There’s nothing quite like the rush of inflicting pain.

I burstout of the dressing room, my breaths coming in ragged gasps, and slam the bathroom door behind me. Collapsing onto the cold tile floor, I clutch at my chest. My throat burns, my heart pounding widely against my ribs.

I fucking hate him. He’s a monster. No, a beast, wearing a human mask.

The memory of his hands on me, his suffocating presence, makes my skin crawl. I press my fists against my eyes, trying to stop the tears, but it’s no use. My body trembles uncontrollably, as if it’s trying to rid itself of the overwhelming sense of powerlessness. The weight of this twisted reality is suffocating, and I feel like I’m drowning in it.

I have to get ahold of myself. I will not let that monster break me. I take another deep breath, focusing on the feeling of the floor beneath me, the sound of my breathing—the feeling of the cool air on my skin.

I’m stronger than he thinks. Determined to regain control, I push myself up and shuffle over to the mirror. Wiping the tears from my face, I stare at my reflection, trying to piece myself back together.

Axe doesn’t own me—no one does—and I sure as hell won’t be wearing his collar.

The vow-bound collar—a symbol of ownership. It’s a Sovereign’s claim over a Servant, a declaration that they are theirs and no longer available for other Sovereigns to use. The collar locks tight, only removable by the Sovereign who placed it. It’s the final act of surrender, the ultimate symbol of submission. But not for me. I refuse to be anyone’s property.

---