Page 36 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

All I’m saying is Penelope could have gotten some in those twenty years.

“There is a bit of cruelty and possessiveness in you. I like it.” A hot flush travels through me at the heated gaze aimed at me. “Penelope.” He tastes my name on his tongue. “Strangely, it suits you.” He rubs his chin, drilling his stare at me for several seconds. “Love is unpredictable and has many layers. For those who believe in it anyway.”

Rolling my eyes at this too-familiar statement, I fire back, “My father says love is a poison we all willingly subject ourselves to. Maybe that’s why we find so many love stories romantic and wish to experience something as powerful. Love, though, can’t justify or withstand everything.”

If a man is cruel and capable of hurting you or others, you can’t love him. You can call it an obsession, passion, or even a syndrome… but actually love?

No way.

Once he shows his sadistic nature, you need to run far, far away and pray the monster chasing you will either die or give up; for otherwise, they will never let you breathe freely.

He ponders my words for a while. I didn’t miss how annoyance crossed his face when I mentioned my father, as if I personally insulted him, but I have no clue what could have warranted such a reaction.

Finally, he breaks the stretched silence. “I agree.” He agrees on what? That love can’t justify everything? “Although the odds of meeting Penelope tonight surprised even me.”

“Yeah, the odds of two strangers named after the epic poem are very slim.”

He grins. “Two strangers, darling?”

I nod. “That’s what we are, right? Two strangers who just met.”

“If you say so, darling. We are playing by your rules tonight.” A shiver rushes down my spine at the sensual notes coating his words as heat envelops me whole, making me struggle to breathe while the air itself electrifies with something wicked.

Everything about this man is mysterious, and instead of being afraid, I feel a weird pull toward him that demands I discover what hides behind the person he presents to the world.

They say the Four Dark Horsemen are passionate creatures, and yet no one knows it for sure, since they were never seen with any women.

However, he so easily took me inside his VIP room that they probably just do it discreetly.

This realization, albeit stupid, somehow sours my mood, and I fire another question, preferring to remind myself that the encounter is about stalling me from interrupting his friend and nothing more. “Why did you decide to open up a club?” They make so much money with their empires; doesn’t this little venture seem like a waste of time?

“We lost a bet to Florian.” I blink at this, so he elaborates. “And his wish was to open up a club where human vices ruled and would be so elite that people fought to get in. The rest is history.” He finishes his drink and then places it on the table. “With our power, it was a given it would be successful.” He speaks about it so nonchalantly, but why wouldn’t he?

Everything they touch turns to gold.

“Do you find them fascinating?” Our eyes meet again, and even though I will myself to stop, I can’t help but crave to know what goes inside this man’s head. “Human vices.”

“I wouldn’t say that. People’s reactions toward them are fascinating though.”

My brows furrow at this. “What do you mean?”

“Vices are considered evil, and yet everyone has them.”

“That’s not true. Good people—”

“Just hide them better. Denying the dark side creates an internal conflict, and people spend so much time fighting themselves they become exhausted.”

“So you believe that darkness lives inside everyone?”

He smirks, his hand clenching the couch, and a scorching heat travels through me at the bugling muscle he displays. “Of course. Goodness and evil lie in the eye of a beholder. How would we know what’s a vice or not if we weren’t able to distinguish them?”

“That’s not true.” For some reason, nervousness washes over me as if we are treading in dangerous waters here, and I’m trying to make sense of his point of view. “Some things can never be justified.”

“Like what?”

“Like murder.”

Amusement, to my shock once again, flashes on his features. “Murder. That’s true. No matter the reason, we have no right to take anyone’s life.” I exhale in relief. For a second there, I thought he considered it no big deal. “That being said… depending on who you’re talking to, some might not see it as a crime.”

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