Perfect Villain : A Dark Stalker Mafia Romance Read online

  I’m afraid to move, let alone draw a breath into my lungs, but somehow, I force my lips up into a smile.

  I’m not sure there are words to describe how handsome this man is. His blond hair shines in the sparkling light. It’s a little unkempt in a way that makes it seem like he just ran his fingers through it. The sides are cut a little shorter, and the strands on top are at a finger’s length.

  His features are hard and rough but manly, with an edge. His cheekbones are high, and his chin is angular and as sharp as a razor blade. Everything about him says I’m bad, and I know it. Usually, that is the first sign I need to turn and walk away, but I’ll admit I’m intrigued by this man.

  His full, very kissable lips curve up into a smile. It’s the grin of a predator if I ever saw one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ladies. I’m Christian.”

  I can see the wheels in Kyla’s head spinning. She’s going to try to set us up. Shit. I open my mouth to say something—what I’m not sure of yet—but she beats me to it.

  “I apologize, Christian, but I need to use the ladies’ room. Perhaps you can keep my best friend company while I’m gone?”

  I don’t even realize I’m snarling at her until I notice Christian looking at me. Fuck.

  “I can come with you,” I tell Kyla.

  She smiles like the witch she is. “No, no. Keep our new friend company. I’ll be right back.”

  Sure she will. The last time she did this, I had to search the entire bar to find her. I watch anxiously as she walks away, throwing daggers from my eyes. She’ll pay for this.

  “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like being alone with anyone you don’t know?” Christian’s question draws my attention away from Kyla.

  I turn to face him, doing my best not to appear intimidated by his presence. I shrug. “Isn’t that any smart woman at a bar with her best friend?”

  The smells of the bar linger around me, but Christian’s intoxicating scent overpowers them. He smells of spicy, clove, danger, and sin. Stupidly, I want to lean in and take a deeper whiff, but that would be strange, right?

  “Not a woman looking for someone to hook up with, which your friend is definitely looking for. You, however...”

  His response has me on the defense. “Yeah, and what am I looking for?”

  He shrugs without a response. The air sizzles around us, and I can feel the attraction growing. I tell myself it’s all in his image, but even just having met him, it feels deeper than that. The bartender comes over, and he orders a bourbon. A moment later, a crystal glass with brown liquid is set in front of him. I watch as he swirls the bourbon around in the glass before taking a gulp of the alcohol. He doesn’t even flinch, and I watch his throat as he swallows, his muscles flexing, drawing me in.

  “I think you’re looking for fun.”

  My brows pinch together in confusion. “Looking for fun? What do you mean? I’m already having fun.”

  He laughs, and it’s the deep, throaty kind that makes you tingle in all the best places. “If this is your idea of fun, then I don’t want to see what your idea of rest and relaxation is.”

  I wrinkle my nose at him. “Are you insinuating that I’m not fun?”

  He takes another swig of his drink and places the now empty glass on the bar.

  I will admit I’m a bit fired up by his assumption, but I don’t show it, or at least I don’t think I do. The space between us is nothing but a foot, yet somehow, he moves closer, his giant frame invading mine. He has to be six feet or taller, and compared to my height of five-three, I must look like a dwarf beneath him. I crane my neck back to continue looking up at him.

  He takes mercy on me and leans down. The smell of cinnamon and sweet bourbon clings to his breath. My eyes linger on his lips for so long I can picture him kissing me. Would he kiss me hard, consuming me from the outside in, or would his kiss be gentle like a feather? My focus breaks when those lips of his start moving.

  “I’m insinuating that... you’re guarded. You don’t look like the type who takes risks. You look…” His gaze roams over me, and I can feel it burning a road map across my skin. “Safe.”

  My cheeks heat. I’m flustered or maybe embarrassed. Yes, the latter it is. This man I’ve never met, that I know nothing about, has just insulted me.

  “Safe?” The word comes out in a squeak.

  Christian smiles, and I’d smack that smile off his face if I had enough balls. This man is intimidating, cocky, and honest, and I don’t like it. Mostly because he can read me like no one else can, and that’s terrifying when he’s nothing more than a stranger.

  His hand comes out of nowhere, and a small gasp escapes my lips when his fingertips contact my cheek as he brushes a couple of strands of hair from my face. His fingers are calloused, and I imagine them touching me in places I have no right thinking about a stranger touching me, especially one who could be dangerous.

  “I don’t mean that in an asshole way. I just mean you seem like the safe type. Never going anywhere alone, and definitely not talking to some stranger in a bar.”

  I lick my lips. “You’re not wrong. I don’t usually talk to strangers. In fact, I don’t even like coming to bars, but my friend drags me along every time she goes. She’s always blabbing about needing to get out of the house, be social, and meet people.”

  “She isn’t wrong. It’s good to get out, and it’s even better to take risks. You never know when it could lead to something amazing.”

  I get the feeling he’s reflecting on meeting him. “You mean meeting you?”

  My eyes catch the way his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. My toes curl inside my flats. I can feel the air growing hotter around us.

  “Well, of course, yes. Meeting me will be the height of your night. I promise.”

  His arrogant attitude makes me smile, and I roll my eyes.

  “You’re very arrogant.”

  “You’re very beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  I can’t believe I’m having a conversation with a complete stranger in the middle of a crowded bar, and he’s calling me beautiful.

  I’m reminded once again that this isn’t me. I’m not this person.

  “A time or two.” I pause, and my anxiety sparks. “Tell me, what is it that brought you to this side of the bar? Surely, I’m not the only gorgeous woman here.”

  Something familiar flickers in his blue eyes, but I can’t pinpoint the look in my mind. “I’m not sure. I just saw your face and felt drawn to you. Maybe it’s fate?”

  “I don’t believe in fate,” I tell him, the honesty bleeding out of me.

  He raises a brow. “Really? What do you believe in?”

  “I believe that if it’s meant to be, then it will be. Everything finds a way in life.”

  “That sounds pretty close to fate to me.” The sarcasm in his voice is unmistakable.

  When I don’t respond to him, he continues, “Well, I believe, Siân, that if you want something bad enough, you will do whatever is humanly possible to achieve it. Sometimes you might lie, barter, or even steal to get it. You might even just take it if it’s something you want badly enough.”

  I can feel our conversation going in a different direction. The warning blinks bright in my mind. I shouldn’t cross the line, shouldn’t take a risk like this, not knowing this man, but maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time to live a little. I’ve spent the past fifteen years trapped in a bubble of worry. What can a night of risk and fun hurt?

  My gaze moves past him and to the entrance across the room. I realize then that Taj still isn’t here. Safe. You’re safe. A man who doesn’t even know me can see how pitiful and inside my head I am. How worried and insecure I am.

  What do I have to fear? It’s been five years. I return my attention to Christian and he’s staring at me. Wait, not at me, but right through me.

  “What’s something you want, Christian?” His name rolls off my tongue lustfully.

  He leans into me, his lips almost touc
hing mine. He’s so close I swear I can feel his heartbeat beneath his shirt. He’s inside me, in my head, under my skin, invading my senses.

  His voice is a whisper when he speaks, so low I’m uncertain I hear him correctly. “You.”

  I swallow my tongue, and it’s then that Kyla reappears, sauntering up to us with a grin on her face. Christian takes a step back at her reappearance, and I suck a ragged breath into my lungs, unaware I was holding my breath.

  “Am I interrupting something?” she asks, grabbing her beer off the bar.

  I wipe my now sweaty palms on the front of my jeans. “No, of course not. We were just talking.” More like sharing an unexplainable moment. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I feel connected to him in a way I’ve never felt connected to anyone.

  “Oh look, Taj and Josh finally showed up,” Kyla announces, her eyes beaming, causing both Christian and me to turn our attention to the entrance.

  I spot Taj and Josh easily. They’re both standing there scanning the crowd, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs. She must be excited to see Josh.

  It’s not a fancy bar, but Taj could’ve at least changed out of his professor getup. I swallow down my frustration when they start toward us. As I drag my attention away from them, I look back up at Christian. His gaze is trained on Taj. It’s cold, and his features are twisted with disdain. He must sense my gaze on him because he snaps out of it and looks down at me, a grim smile appearing on his lips.

  “I think it’s time I go, but it was very nice to meet you, Siân. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  I nod, taken aback by his gruff departure.

  He walks away and nearly bumps shoulders with Taj on the way out. This strange coldness fills the space around me where the mysterious man stood just moments ago. Taj approaches with a look of confusion on his handsome face.

  “Was that guy giving you trouble?” His tone turns protective.

  I shake my head. “No. I don’t even know him.” Though it felt like he knew me.

  “Okay,” he replies and engulfs me in a hug. His embrace is warm, and his clean cologne scent fills my nostrils, but it isn’t what I want. It’s safe. I’m safe, and for some reason, I know that stranger’s words will stick with me for the rest of the night. “I apologize for being late. Some stuff at the university came up, and I had to stay late to finish grading papers.”

  “It’s okay,” I lie.

  It’s not okay. Nothing is okay. Everything about Taj is safe, from his russet brown hair to his pale green eyes. He’s a professor with a good job and a heart of gold, but he’s not who I want. None of this is what I want… he isn’t what I want.

  “Hey, are you with me?” Taj takes me by the cheeks, forcing my gaze to meet his.

  I stare up into his green eyes. There’s a smile on his face, a smile put there by me.

  “I’m fine. Everything is fine. Let’s get some drinks and enjoy the rest of the night together.” I force myself to smile and move through the motions.

  All I can think is everything isn’t fine, but it will be soon.

  3

  CHRISTIAN

  Safe is the way I described her, but boring is more like it. It’s been a week since I approached her at the bar, and something tells me that talking to me was the liveliest she’s been. In fact, I’m pretty fucking sure of it.

  After I left that night, I did what I do best—watched. I sat outside, waiting patiently for her to leave. To my surprise, she was alone. In my short time with her, she never mentioned having a man, but from the way she tensed up when Kyla informed her the guys they were waiting on had arrived, I put two and two together. That and the wide grin the one guy gave her told me that he is her boyfriend. Whether it was Josh or Taj, that’s yet to be determined. I didn’t stick around long enough to figure out who either of them was. But I’d bet any amount the one I bumped on the way out was him if the look of disgust on his face was any indication.

  It was probably for the best that she left the bar alone, because had he been with her, I would have killed him in front of her. Then my plan would have unraveled before it ever started. And there’s nothing I hate more than a ruined plan—that and knowing some other asshole is spending time with my woman. So, fate aligned, and I didn’t have to murder anyone.

  I trailed her closely that night, staying far enough away that she never noticed me on the opposite side of the street. The walk to the small house she shares with Kyla is only a few blocks from campus and the bar. And I know this because I’ve watched her long enough to observe Kyla entering the home with a key of her own.

  Along the way, I couldn’t help but notice how skittish Siân was, glancing over her shoulder every so often with her arms wrapped tightly around her frame.

  She can thank me for that, too.

  My poor topolina, so small and afraid in this big, bad world. The sadist in me loves it. The thought shouldn’t bring a grin to my lips, but it does. The meekness, the constant fear and desire to flee—it’s like music to my soul. If I didn’t have plans for the two of us, I would have chased her down and reminded her of the little games we used to play before I had to leave her.

  Instead, I waited until she disappeared into her home and watched for the light to flicker on upstairs. And every day since, I continued to observe. Her bedroom window is within a perfect view from the lamppost across the street. Unfortunately, only her silhouette is visible because she keeps her blinds closed. I wondered just how many neighborhood boys have gotten off to her naked shadow.

  She tries to go unnoticed, except when you try that it makes you the most visible. Those who live their lives openly aren’t who people want. It’s the shy type that intrigues people the most. Their reserved personalities speak the loudest. Even if they tiptoed through life, they’d never be able to hide.

  Siân’s routine is the same: the coffee shop, school, home, and the occasional night out with Kyla. Rinse and repeat. Safe and boring.

  I decided to give her more time and allow her to enjoy what’s left of this pathetic existence she’s chosen. Besides, it gave me the space I needed to figure out everything I could about this new version of her. That time is up now, and today, we start phase two of my plan.

  Make her fall in love with me.

  And that brings me here—the coffee shop. A place I’d never step foot in otherwise. The flood of voices, the loud buzzing of brewing equipment, people typing away on their computers, and the smells—bitter coffee grounds, spices, and steaming milk. I hate it all. But I’m here because of Siân. She’s the reason for everything.

  “What can I get you?” the petite barista asks.

  She smiles and runs her gaze along the length of my frame. There’s a gleam in her eyes, one I’m used to. The lust, the need—they’re all the same, blinded by their libido and a handsome face.

  “What’s good here?” I question. Not that I care, but appearance is important if I want this to go off without a hitch.

  “Well,” she sing-songs, and from my peripheral, I notice her shifting from one foot to the other. “I guess that depends on what you want.” She leans in and pokes her chest in my direction, drawing my attention to the extremely low neckline of her uniform shirt.

  Here we are, another girl displaying all the signs that she’s looking to get laid. It would be a lie if I said she didn’t have a nice rack, but I remain unfazed by her blatant attempts. There’s only one woman for me, and she is far from being her.

  To move things along, I pick the first thing I see on the menu. “I’ll take a cappuccino.”

  She rings up my order, and I pay her in cash, then step out of the way for the person behind me. I nestle into a booth in the far corner. According to the clock on the wall behind the register, Siân will be here any minute now.

  As if on cue, I see the top of her little brown head over the fence as she turns the corner. With her head down, she walks with her purse hanging from one shoulder, a backpack dangling from the other, and her attention on her
phone.

  A moment later, she enters the loud coffee shop and blends in with the other customers. Instead of standing in line like everyone else, she heads straight for the pick-up desk, and I soon realize her drink is already waiting for her.

  I leave my seat and stroll across the room. The floor is sticky, music plays through the overhead speakers, and thankfully the shop is busy. Planting myself directly behind her, I run my fingers through my hair and pull the wax mold from my back pocket. Siân continues to converse with the barista, completely oblivious to my presence.

  She flips her hair and offers the girl behind the counter a grim smile. “Thank you, Angela. It’s a good thing I ordered ahead today.” She makes small talk.

  Thanks to her wide-open purse, I easily slip her keys from the bag. That’s another thing I’ve noticed about her. As guarded as she seems to be with herself, she isn’t the same way with her belongings. Every time I’ve watched her, she hasn’t bothered to secure her bag. If someone wanted to mug her, they’d have no problem doing it.

  Angela goes on about how busy they’ve been as Siân pretends to be interested. She goes with the flow to appear as normal as everyone around her. A part of me wants to feel a little sad that she hasn’t yet figured out that people like us don’t get to be normal. But I push the thoughts aside and steal an imprint of her house key with the mold. But Siân is on the move again before I put her key ring back where it belongs.

  “Thank you, Angela. I’ll let you get back to work and will see you tomorrow.” Siân nods and raises her drink to the woman.

  “Shit,” I mutter to myself. If I don’t act fast, she’ll most likely figure out her keys aren’t where they’re supposed to be.

  Thinking on my feet, I do the only thing I can do and bump into her, purposely knocking her cup out of her hand. The piping-hot liquid splatters across the floor and on the toes of my boots.

  “Dammit,” Siân curses.

  She immediately snatches napkins from the dispenser on the counter, then squats to clean up the mess I made. She’s so focused on the spill that she sets her bags down next to her.