Page 39 of Once A Villain

“I’m here,” he says, pulling me into a hug. I bury my face in his chest, feeling ashamed and disgusted with myself.

The man who has done unspeakable things to me just forced me to come on his fingers and I’m trying to convince myself I hated every minute of it.

“Come on, I’ll take you home,” Spencer says, reaching for my hand and tugging me along. I sink into the passenger seat of his sleek sports car as he circles and settles into the driver’s side.

“Thanks, Spencer. You really don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” he insists, casting me a small smile. “I’ve been worried about you, Rory. You’ve been ignoring my texts and calls.”

I’ve ignored everyone, even Kyla, because I can’t deal with their pity. I swallow hard, guilt creeping in at his words. “I’m sorry. It’s just been hard.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where are we going?” I ask, looking out the window as he drives onto the street.

“I thought we could get something to eat,” he says, glancing over at me. “You look like you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“That sounds great, actually.” My stomach growls at the thought. I’m not sure when I last ate. The days have all been a blur.

“What about the girls?”

“Dad will take them home.”

My phone chimes, and I pull it out of my purse.

Axe: Where are you?

Me: Spencer will take me home. Don’t bother me.

Axe: Don’t make me come after you, little siren.

Me: Fuck. You.

I slide my phone back into my purse and lean against the window, annoyed by the nicknamelittle siren.Even more annoyed that I don’t entirely hate it. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Everything okay?” Spencer asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, not wanting to go into detail. Ignoring the call from Axe, I turn my phone off and toss it back into my purse.

The nostalgic scent of greasy food and coffee surrounds us as we enter a diner. It’s a classic old-fashioned diner, straight out of a movie scene. Growing up, our father had strict standards for dining out. Everything had to be top-notch, nothing less than the best.

Spencer leads me to a booth in the back, and I slide in, taking in the familiar surroundings. A middle-aged waitress approaches, handing us menus. Memories flood back—Spencer sneaking me out to places like this. Burgers, milkshakes, and late-night movies. Our little secret. I’d down the milkshakes despite my dairy allergy, knowing full well I’d regret it.

Spencer always had my back, covering for me when I’d get sick. Dad knew something was up, but he never figured out exactly what. He never would’ve approved.

“I can’t remember the last time we did this,” Spencer admits with a smile. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” I reply with a grin. The first genuine smile I’ve had in weeks. We order our food and make small talk, avoiding the obvious. I don’t want to talk about the horrible shit going on, and I know he doesn’t either.

“So, Dad’s 50thbirthday is next month,” he says, changing the subject. “His company is throwing a big party, and they’ve invited the whole family. He’ll expect you to attend.”

Dad’s hedge fund company is just a front for the Sovereign. Money laundering, shady deals, bribes—he makes it all look legit. The billionaire Sovereign Associates benefiting from it don’t care so long as the cash flows and the right people stay in power. No one looks too closely, and that’s exactly how they like it.

I scoff and roll my eyes. “Of course he does.”

“Rory,” he begins, “look, I know it’s been tough on you. I don’t know how you’re dealing with it all, and honestly, it scares the hell out of me.”

“I’m fine. And I’ll be there.”

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