Page 15 of Once A Villain

“You look like shit, Axe.” He smirks.

I rip the bottle from his hand, taking a long swig.

A low growl cuts through the tension, dragging my attention to the doorway. Kane, my black Belgian Malinois, stands there, muscles coiled, eyes locked on Griffen like he’s ready to rip his throat out. He’s a fucking beast, more wolf than dog, and the only soul loyal to me.

“Fuck your dog,” Griffen mutters, throwing a scowl at Kane, but that only makes the growl deepen.

Chuckling, I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. “GA Liggen,” I snap, the Dutch command rolling off my tongue, and Kane backs off immediately, settling into his spot by the fireplace, eyes still glued to Griffen, just waiting for the order.

Griffen crashes at my place more than I’d like, always slumming it in one of the guest wings like it’s his personal fucking hotel. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve threatened to throw his ass out.

“I’ve got the information you wanted. No surprises, except for her finances.” Griffen’s specialty—digging into people’s lives like a vulture picking a clean carcass. He’s good at it. Real good. He’s got connections that crawl out of the sewers, people in places you don’t even know exist.

We could pass for brothers—same dark hair, similar build, and an equal thirst for violence. But his carefree attitude and constant chase for pussy are a far cry from my rigid and controlled lifestyle.

He doesn’t share my reputation, though he’s racked up his body count and enemies.

“What?”

“She’s loaded. Like, fucking rich.”

I take another swig from the whiskey bottle, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat.

“From her father, I assume.”

Griff shakes his head. “Nope. Random deposits, mostly cash. Plus, an offshore account. The amounts vary, but it adds up. She’s been smart about hiding it—probably from her old man.”

“Sovereigns she’s fucking?”

She’s clearly fucking someone who is paying her. Probably some high-ranking bastard. A common tactic among Sluts. The higher the rank, the better the money.

“Nope. Doesn’t look like it’s coming from any Sovereign bank.”

“Keep looking.” I want to uncover her every weakness, every fear. Her habits, her routines—everything. If I’m going to break her, I need to know exactly where to strike.

“I’m working on it.” He pauses, staring at me with a smirk. “She’s fucking hot. You’re a lucky bastard. Her pussy is probably sweet as fuck. I see why you chose her.” He’s right. Her pussy will be sweet, and it will be mine.

But he needs to remember his place. I’ll fucking kill him if he even tries to touch her. I will be the only one to use her, the only one to taste her. To ruin her.

“If you touch her, I will cut your fucking balls off and feed them to you.”

“Alright. But if she wants my dick...I’m not saying no. I am the more attractive Hawthorne, after all.”

Clenching my jaw, I ignore his comment and continue drinking.

“Master Hawthorne, will you be dining in tonight or out?” Henry asks, his voice as smooth and polished as his tailored suit. The tall, slender butler has served my family for decades, his graying hair always neatly combed and his beard meticulously trimmed. Before I can answer, Griff cuts in.

“Both. We want steak, medium-rare. And a blow job.”

Henry’s expression remains unwavering.

“I will inform the kitchen, sir.” With that, he turns and exits the room.

My phone dings, and I pull it out. The tracker on Rory’s G-Wagon shows she’s on the move. My jaw tightens. It’s time for the games to begin.

Without a word, I grab my keys and head for the garage.

“Where are you going?” Griff questions, his tone amused.

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