Page 8 of Once A Villain

It’s pathetic, really. And the jealousy? Oozes off her, thick and bitter. She hates Spencer and me for existing, hates that Dad’s attention isn’t solely hers. The gold digger vibe is impossible to miss, her eyes practically glowing with dollar signs and zero substance. No depth. No soul.

“Conrad, darling, I’m here.”

I clench my jaw, swallowing the urge to slap her Botox-filled face. She slithers up to Dad, placing her perfectly manicured claws on his shoulder like she’s marking her territory.

Rolling my eyes, I glance at Spencer, whose glare could cut glass.

“What’s going on? I’ve been worried sick.” The forced concern in her voice nearly makes me gag. She’s only worried about losing the golden ticket—his money, his influence.

“This is between us,” my brother growls, voice low and threatening.

“Nonsense. I’m family now.”

Family.Barf.

I can’t endure this any longer. I need air, space—anything but this bullshit. I storm out of the office, Spencer and Dad’s escalating argument fading behind me as I head down the long corridor.

The crisp air hits my lungs like a cold slap. I inhale deeply, trying to ground myself, but my feet seem to have a mind of their own, steering me aimlessly down the sidewalk. The noise of the city blurs into background static, but it doesn’t stop the rising panic. My phone buzzes incessantly in my pocket, but I ignore it. I know it’s the other Sirens, wondering why I bailed on rehearsal. They’re my friends, but right now, I can’t face anyone. If I say it out loud, it becomes real, and I’m not ready to let this nightmare sink in.

A sob tears out of me, raw and jagged. I collapse against a cold brick wall and wrap my arms around my knees. Tears stream freely now, unstoppable.

Married? To some asshole I don’t even know? I’ve fought so hard to have control over my life, to live it the way I want to. Now, my entire future is being ripped from my grasp.

A car pulls up beside me. The window rolls down, and Spencer’s concerned face appears. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

I wipe my tears with shaky hands and climb into the car. After parking outside my house, he turns to me.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head, staring at the floor.

“I’ll figure something out,” he continues in a soft but firm voice. “Don’t worry, okay? Just stay away from him.”

Nodding, I exit the car, but his words don’t bring me any hope. If Dad can’t fix this mess, no one can.

The quiet inside my house is stifling, hitting me like a wall. Upstairs, I collapse onto my bed, sobbing. I shove my face into the pillow, feeling my world unraveling with every heartbeat.

Screw this. I need a distraction.

Grabbing my phone, I swipe away the flood of unread messages piling up throughout the day. Without overthinking it, I text Jamie.

Me: Do you have anything good?

Jamie: Always. What do you need?

Me: Something to fuck me up.

Jamie: I can do that. Come over.

I bolt out of bed, yank on a hoodie and sweatpants, and grab my keys and wallet. The door slams shut behind me as I head for the garage. My G-Wagon’s still parked at the Iron, but I’ve got backup. I slide into my Audi R8, the engine growling to life, a perfect echo of the anger simmering inside me. The black machine hugs the road as I weave through the streets.

Jamie was the first Sovereign I ever fucked. He’s the perfect distraction. Always down for a quick fuck and a party. He likes to pride himself, claiming that he showed me how to fuck arealman. He’s not wrong, but I’ve certainly moved on since then.

I park in Jamie’s building garage and take the elevator up to the penthouse. The doors slide open to a roar of music and laughter, the bass vibrating through the floor. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across one wall, showing off the glittering skyline. The modern, sleek furniture is built for entertaining, with a massive bar, fully stocked against another wall.

Jamie’s parties are legendary—over-the-top and depraved.

He spots me immediately, cutting through the crowd with a grin sharp enough to slice steel. “Rory! You look like shit.”

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