Page 57 of Once A Villain

“The man who did that—he’s the worst of them all. If he finds out about us, he will kill you.” His fingers linger over the brand, sending shivers through my body. “And what he’ll do to me...” My voice trails off, tears flowing freely again. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

His appearance is unsettling—a black hoodie, gloves exposing only his fingers, jeans, and combat boots, leaving no part of him visible. I’ve never felt so vulnerable.

“Will you tell me your name?” I ask, barely audible.

Silence.

“Can I at least see your face?” The question hangs between us, unanswered. “Please?” I plead, but he remains silent, and my heart sinks.

It’s probably better this way, but the disappoint still stings.

“Thank you for saving me. For being here. For staying.”

After a moment, he stands and gently pulls me to my feet. My legs tremble as I rise, body weary and still shaking.

He walks over to Bradley, kicking his motionless body until he rolls onto his back, shallow breaths still rising from his bloodied, swollen face. The masked man grabs Bradley by the arm, dragging him across the floor.

He returns, retrieves my robe from a wall hook, and hands it to me. I slip it on as he guides me out of the room, pointing toward the bathroom with a gentle nudge.

“I’m Rory.” I don’t know why I share my name with him; it just feels right. Then I make my way to the bathroom, teary-eyed.

I’m a wreck—my face streaked with makeup, tears, and dried cum. I flick on the faucet and drop my robe before stepping into the shower. The warm spray mingles with my tears, which fall uncontrollably. My body aches; the brand burns, my legs wobble, and my arms throb. I’ve never felt anything like this. Not just the physical aftermath but the raw vulnerability ripping me apart.

I’ve never cried in front of a Sovereign or a client. It was always about pleasure, release. But this time, it was different. There was a connection, a trust. I surrendered to him completely, and he took everything. He claimed me with a raw, brutal intensity that made me scream.

Every touch, every thrust, every slap left me craving more.

Now, I can’t escape the memory or the mystery of who he is.

I’m caught between screams, tears, and laughter, but all I can do is let the tears flow.

Bradley tried to rape me, and this man, whoever he is, saved me.

I have no idea what will happen when Bradley wakes up. Will he remember? Will he come after me? I could tell Axe about Bradley’s attempt to rape me and hope he didn’t witness my encounter with the masked man.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap myself in a towel and return to my dressing room.

But it’s empty—no trace of blood on the floor, and no trace ofhim.

Fuck. What the hell did I do? I’ve never given a shit about the women I fuck. They’re nothing but a hole to fill. A tight cunt and a warm mouth. No fucking emotions, no attachments. I get off, and I move on—end of story.

When Rory clung to me, my anger faded. Holding her felt...fuck…it felt right—something foreign and unsettling. Hell, most of them cry during sex, but I never gave a fuck.

Yet, I couldn’t push Rory away. When she looked at me, eyes full of tears, pleading for me to stay, I was at a loss. In that moment, I felt something—an ache.

I fucking hated it.

She doesn’t deserve my sympathy. She doesn’t deserve anything from me.

But I couldn’t leave her. I couldn’t let her go.

I’ve seen her defiant, confident, and seductive side in action, but the image of her crying and vulnerable, utterly shattered, is seared into my mind. That’s the real Rory—the one beneath the Siren. The person I’m supposed to hate, the one I’m meant to destroy, the one I branded.

I hate what I’m feeling. It’s as if a switch has been flipped: one moment, I’m consumed by rage, and the next, I’m holding her, offering comfort. She’s making me fucking soft.

This was a mistake.

She fucked another man,me,but she doesn’t know that. That it was my cum she swallowed. My cock she begged for. My mouth on her cunt. My fingers inside her.

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