Darling Villain (Forbidden Fruit #1)

Chapter 4

Tiffany

T he city lights flash by in a blur, casting erratic shadows inside the sleek, black car as it speeds down the rain-slicked streets. The hum of the engine does little to drown out the relentless drumming of my heart.

The restaurant, where I had left Adrien not five minutes ago, looms in the rearview mirror like a beacon summoning me back to his intoxicating presence. His touch still lingers on my skin, his piercing blue eyes imprinted in my memory.

Empire Heights lights continue to streak by in a hypnotic blur, but no matter how fast we go, I can’t outrun the truth—Adrien Leroy is trouble. And as much as I crave the chaos he promises to bring, I have more pressing matters to deal with—a sister’s wedding on the horizon, a family business sinking fast, and an uncle whose secrets threaten to unravel everything.

With a sigh, I turn my attention back to my phone, but even technology seems intent on failing me tonight. The phone screen flickers as the device struggles for its dear life.

After a few futile attempts, I give up and toss it back into my purse, resigning myself to the silence. Leaning my head back against the car seat, I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to calm down.

Only when the city lights give way to the darkness of the countryside, do I realize something is wrong.

This is not the route to my apartment.

“Joel, are we lost? This isn’t the way to my place,” I ask, searching for his face in the rearview mirror. But instead of his familiar warm brown eyes, I see cold steely black ones with a hint of malice.

My heart drops as I realize the driver isn’t Joel. The man behind the wheel is unfamiliar, and I have the sudden, overwhelming sense that something is horribly wrong.

In a frenzy, my mind frantically tries to make sense of this sudden turn of events. I scan the car for any trace of Joel but find none. I turn back to the driver, hoping to get an explanation, but he just glares at me saying nothing.

The voice in my head that told me to turn around and go back to Adrien Leroy seems like a distant memory. This is what happens when I get lost in my thoughts.

“Who are you? Where are you taking me? Where’s Joel?”

The driver says nothing, his gaze never leaving the road ahead.

I’m officially scared out of my mind.

“I think I mixed up the cars,” I tell the man in the mirror. “You can just let me out here. I’ll call a taxi.”

But the car doesn’t stop.

It doesn’t even slow down.

I’m not one to jump to conclusions and freak out, but right now, right here, my life is flashing before my eyes. There’s truly no way to rationally explain the situation, even though a tiny part of me hopes that this could be a prank or a misunderstanding. I’m almost sure I’m about to be dragged down to a basement to be killed by a psychopath.

“Please, stop the car. I want to get out,” I repeat.

Panic tightens my chest and I sink my nails into my palms, trying to ignore my body’s irrational response to the fear and focus on the problem at hand. I’m alone in the car with a strange man and my phone is... My phone, I remember, is in my purse. It contains my phone, keys, and any other essentials I might need. I reach for it cautiously, fearful that my movements may draw attention to myself.

I rummage through my purse, trying to find my phone. My hands tremble, but eventually, I find the smooth surface of my phone and slide it out of my purse.

I take a deep breath and press the unlock button, praying that I can make a call without being detected.

As the light of the screen illuminates my face, I spot the driver’s reflection in the rearview mirror. His eyes flicker to the source of the light, but I don’t let that deter me. I dial 911.

“Stop this car this instant or I’ll call the police.” My fingers clench around the phone, desperately hoping for a fast connection.

“Don’t worry, Miss Carter.” The man smiles menacingly. “Your phone cell signal is jammed, so there’s no point in you trying to call anyone. This is only a precaution, nothing more. Just sit back and relax, enjoy the ride, and we’ll get you to your destination soon.”

I’m in the hands of a madman.

The man in the driver’s seat brazenly admits to jamming my cell phone signal, making any attempts to get help impossible. I desperately search for a way to escape, but the realization that I’m in the countryside, far from any help, only adds to my terror. I slump back against the seat, utterly helpless.

“I don’t know what this is about. All I want to do is go home. Please let me out.”

My eyes search for a way out, but all I see are trees and darkness. Out of pure desperation, I even press the button to lower the window, but nothing happens. It’s locked, as is the door.

This is the end.

I’m going to die at the hands of a stranger in the middle of nowhere.

I force myself to inhale deeply and calm my racing heart. I’ve gotten myself into serious trouble before, plenty of times, but each time I’ve gotten out. It was never as dire as this, but Olivia would never forgive me if I didn’t try to fight my way out of this situation.

I’m strong, I can do this. I repeat the mantra in my head, over and over again.

“Why are you doing this? Where are we going?” I ask, attempting to buy time and also to gauge his psychological state. It’s important to know who my enemy is as I plan my escape.

“We are almost there. You’re going to be just fine.”

The car rounds a sharp curve in the road, and I catch a glimpse of a large, ominous building rising in the distance. I glance around the car, searching for anything that could be a tool to help me escape. I refuse to die without putting up a fight.

“You know, you can’t just kidnap people and call it a ‘precaution.’ That doesn’t make any sense,” I say, my brain-to-mouth filter nonexistent. “What is it you want from me? Money, a ransom?”

“I’m just following orders. Mister Leroy will explain everything to you.”

“Adrien Leroy?”

That bastard wouldn’t dare to do this, would he? Am I a pawn in some kind of corporate plot? He threatened me earlier, but what could he possibly want from me? Could this be just a huge misunderstanding? Either way, people at the restaurant saw me coming to meet Adrien. I’m sure the police and my uncle will come looking for me if I’m not home by tomorrow.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, the car suddenly comes to a screeching halt.

“Here we are.” The driver’s voice is cheerful. “Out you get.”

The doors open, and the muzzle of the gun gets pressed into my temple.

I freeze.

“Get out of the car,” a hoarse voice of a man barks out. I try to move as fast as possible, but my limbs are numb and uncooperative.

“Hurry,” the voice growls as one man grabs my elbow and forces me out of the car. Another man pushes a gun into my back, their faces obscured by the darkness.

“What are you doing?”

“Just walk.”

The gravel squeaks under my feet as I begin to walk in the direction the guards are pushing me. Slowly, my eyes adjust to the darkness as I try to take in the surroundings.

The moonlight struggles to penetrate the thick trees that loom above us, casting deep, ominous shadows. The air is thick with tension and fear, broken only by the occasional hoot of an owl.

The men force me to walk even faster. The gravel moves under my feet, making it difficult to walk with high heels. After a few minutes of uncoordinated stumbling, I see the contours of a house illuminated by an array of windows glowing in the night.

My heart beats faster and sweat breaks out on my forehead as I realize the gravity of the situation. I’m being taken to a remote house, and it seems clear that my captor has some sinister plans for me.

“Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone anything, I promise. Just let me go.”

“No, can’t do that, Miss Carter,” the man in front of me chuckles. “You’re coming with us.”

“But why? Are you working for Adrien Leroy? What does he want with me?”

The man turns to me, revealing his dark grey eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, little Miss Reporter. You ask too many questions.”

“Come on, let’s go, let’s go,” the second man says, waving his gun at me. “Time is running out. We don’t have all day.”

They drag me toward the house, through the large black gates, past the rows and rows of perfectly trimmed green hedges. I trip, but they don’t seem to care.

“Faster,” the second man mutters and pushes me towards the house.

I walk faster and try to hold my tongue. Arguing with these men does me no good and I know that at the end of the day, they have no say in what is going to happen to me. Clearly, they enjoy being in power. Or at least feeling that they are, when the actual puppeteer is Adrien. So, there is no point in angering them. The man I need to negotiate with is Adrien. I need to stay calm and composed, and find a way to communicate with him and people inside that house, so I can plead my case and find a way out of this mess.

As we reach the entrance of the house, the light from the windows allows me to see more of my surroundings. The house is very modern and not a horror movie-style house I expected. Instead of an abandoned hut in the middle of a dense forest where crazy lunatics keep their victims, I’m standing in front of a three-story house more reminiscent of a billionaire’s holiday getaway. Enormous windows and modern lightning fixtures illuminate a large wraparound porch and manicured garden.

When I inspect our final destination, I start feeling a lot better. Maybe a painful death is not in my near future. After all, Adrien would not bring me to his expensive and well-maintained house just to kill me. He wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if he wanted me dead. He wants my cooperation, and that gives me an opportunity to negotiate with him.

The men open the door, but the barrel of the gun is still pressed against my back.

“Go on.”

I try to move and walk into the house, but my feet are rooted to the ground.

“Go on, I said, or I’ll open this door with my gun.”

“Don’t … don’t shoot,” I mumble and step into the house.

Once inside, I blink rapidly to adjust to the sudden brightness.

The interior of the house is as tasteful and elegant as it looks from the outside. The high ceilings, hardwood floors, modern art pieces, and a giant chandelier in the foyer practically scream that its owner has loads of money.

There are more men inside, all of them armed and waiting for us.

I ignore them, not showing any fear or intimidation. In negotiations, it’s key to appear confident and composed.

A tall, athletic man with blond hair stands up from the couch. It’s clear he holds a higher rank here, as all the other men stop their conversations and turn to him.

“Good evening, Miss Carter.” The blond man’s smile is accommodating, but the expression in his eyes shows he is enjoying this situation a lot more than I’m comfortable with.

The blond is a sadist. Lovely. Seems like I’ve met quite a few of those today.

“My name is Daniel,” the blond—Daniel—continues, his gaze focused on me. “You’ll have the pleasure of spending some time in our company, so it’s only proper to introduce myself first.”

Right, my ‘stay’.

I suppress my immediate instinct to roll my eyes and go straight to the question that interests me the most.

“Where is Adrien? When will I be able to talk to him?” I meet his eyes, refusing to be intimidated. Daniel is not the one giving orders. He might appear powerful in this setting, but everything is up to Adrien. And I won’t waste my energy on anyone except him.

“Mister Leroy is busy at the moment. For the time being, you’ll have to make do with our company.” Daniel grins and the hair on my skin stands up. “Now, let’s not waste our time. I’ll show you the room you’ll be staying in.”

“And how long will I be staying in this ‘room’? How soon can I leave?”

As Daniel’s eyes scan over me, I recognize the look in them. It’s a man appreciating what he sees, and it sets off warning bells in my head. I make a mental note to avoid being alone with him, although I know that may not be entirely within my control anymore.

“I know as much as you do, little Tiffany. But I have a feeling I’ll enjoy your company.” His voice drops an octave. His eyes linger on my mouth for a few seconds too long before he turns to the guard who escorted me here and instructs him to take me to the room upstairs.

At least I won’t have to spend much time with Daniel. But that also means I won’t have a chance to talk to any of them or find out what’s going on.

As the guard leads me up the grand staircase, I look around, trying to memorize everything about this place and the people around me.

The house is certainly well-maintained. The hardwood floors shine, the furniture is clean, and the tables and walls are so spotless that I could use them as mirrors.

The second floor is just as clean as the first. With doors flanking the hallway, the guard guides me to its end. He pulls out a key from his pocket and unlocks one door, swinging it open for me.

“This will be your room,” he says gruffly and ushers me through the door.

I step into my new temporary living space and take in the grandeur of it all with wide eyes. The room is massive and dominated by a king-sized bed in the center, adorned with a white bedspread and an abundance of pillows. Two nightstands flank the bed, each with its own lamp. The sturdy and elegant wooden furniture gives the room a luxurious feel. There are windows on either side of the bed, but the darkness outside obscures any view, save for my reflection.

The walls are painted in a warm hue of beige, creating a comforting atmosphere. There are two doors—one likely opens into a closet while the other probably leads to the bathroom.

Overall, the room is strangely... luxurious, not a place to hold kidnapped people. It’s nothing like a giant cell or a cage; instead, it resembles a beautifully decorated guest bedroom.

But what do I know about abduction protocols? Maybe this is the standard for keeping abducted women when the kidnapper is a billionaire. At least they aren’t keeping me in some dark and dingy dungeon.

“I’ll be back later. A guard will always be posted outside, so don’t even think about trying to run away,” the guard says before walking out, leaving me completely on my own.

Alone.

I am left alone with my own thoughts, my fears, and my imagination.

I wander around the room, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The bathroom is just as luxurious as the bedroom, with a large Jacuzzi tub and a separate shower stall stocked with toiletries. I attempt to open another door, hoping to find a closet, but it’s locked. Continuing to explore, I find a spacious closet in the opposite corner containing only a few hangers with white shirts. It’s still big enough to fit my entire wardrobe, not that it matters, since I have nothing except for what I’m currently wearing.

Returning to the bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed and contemplate my next move.

There’s no TV, no books, nothing to distract me from my swirling thoughts. And even if there was something, I doubt I could focus on it amidst all the unanswered questions.

Why am I here? What does Adrien Leroy want from me? Most importantly, how can I escape?

I need to talk to Adrien. Perhaps by understanding his motives, I can negotiate my release.

One thing my sister and I learned from Dean Carter is that there’s always room for negotiation. And if talking doesn’t work, staying calm and seizing the right moment is key.

I will play my part in his game, be nice, charming, and polite until I get him to trust me enough to let his guard down.

And then, I’ll escape.