Page 96 of Redeeming the Villain

I can see why this piece is special to him; there are two very distinct voices in it. Pushing and pulling back and forth until the song ends in an entirely different key, symbolizing the merging of the two and a birth of something new.

As I finish the song, I realize he’s moved, standing a few feet right of the bench I’m sitting on.

He lightly claps and takes a seat on the bench beside me, his leg pressed firmly against mine.

“Beautiful as always, my dear.” His voice is close, the warmth of his breath touching my ear.

Scooting away from him politely, I smile, turning my head just slightly his way. “Thank you.”

He flips to the third page and points. “Can you play from here again?”

Nodding, I straighten my spine and align my fingers on the white keys. A second later, I’m once again lost in the song, my consciousness drifting to the back of my mind.

Bony fingers slide along my upper thigh, tearing me from my happy place and dragging me into a nightmare I never could’ve imagined.

My eyes fly open and land on Von London’s hand on my leg. I should yell at him to stop; I should move away from his touch.

But it’s like my brain is short-circuiting and I’m stuck in place as it reboots.

“W-what are you doing?” I gasp, coming back into control of my body.

He smiles at me as if this were a normal part of our sessions, as if we did this every time. Which we most certainly have not.

“You are incredible, Alora,” he praises me, and a chill snakes down my spine chills.

I inch away from him, but he stretches his arm with me, keeping it secured on my thigh.

“Sir, this isn’t appropriate.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “I know there are guidelines against students fraternizing with teachers. But don’t worry; I won’t let anyone find out.”

Scooting closer to the wall at my left, I realize I’m nearly trapped between the piano, the wall, and him, the only gap between the wide bench and wall a few inches. Shit.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Is this some kind of sick test to see if I’m willing to cheat to get ahead?

“Mr. Von London, there is no us.” My voice is shakier than I’d like.

Sliding closer to me, he moves his hand from my thigh to the back of my waist, wrapping it around my side and tugging me into him in one surprisingly strong move.

He presses his lips against my ear. “I understand your reservations. But it’s okay, really. You know as much as I do how important music is. Imagine what we could create together.”

My head shakes back and forth as I lean away from his hot breath. “No. No, I do not.”

Surely, this is just a misunderstanding, and I’ve led him on somehow.

His brows furrow, and his eyes darken. But they don’t give me the same giddy feeling Malik’s darkened gaze does. Rupert makes my skin start to crawl.

I told him no. I showed him that I was uncomfortable. Any reasonable person would recognize these signs and back the hell off.

My stomach twists when the realization hits me … he is anything but a reasonable and respectable person.

The tips of his fingers sink into my side, pressing into the silky pink corset top. “Just relax, okay?”

He presses his lips against my cheek, and I slam my eyes shut at the contact.

“Please stop,” I whimper, understanding that the person I’ve idolized for years is just a creep who doesn’t deserve the pedestal he lives on.

He kisses my cheek again, this time closer to my mouth. “You were invited to the showcase.” His tone unsettles me. “Do you want it to stay that way?”

---