Darling Villain (Forbidden Fruit #1)

Chapter 8

Adrien

A fter my conversation with Daniel, I force myself to push any thoughts of Tiffany Carter out of my mind and focus on more pressing matters.

I have a chance to invest in the European real estate market, which will diversify my earnings further. Pierre Benoit, a real estate mogul, and old acquaintance, has been hesitant to partner with me given my connections with the criminal underworld, but I have assured him that I can manage my investments without compromising his safety or integrity. The potential for steady and secure income, along with growth opportunities, make this investment too good to pass up.

I work into the late hours of the night, reviewing contracts and financial projections. Eventually, the words on my computer screen begin to blur together, signaling that it’s time for me to call it a night.

After stretching my stiff muscles, I turn off the lights and leave the room. The hallway is empty and quiet except for the sounds of security guards patrolling outside.

My bedroom is dimly lit by moonlight peeking through the curtains, but despite the darkness, I know this room like the back of my hand.

I strip off my clothes and step into a hot shower, letting the water wash away the stress of the day. Once finished, I towel off and slip into a pair of gray sweatpants. While drying my hair, I hear a rustling noise and stop in my tracks.

Holding my breath, I listen carefully, straining my ears against the heavy, suffocating silence. Convinced it was just my imagination, I continue until I hear the noise again, coming from the adjoining room.

I unlock the connecting door and bright light floods into my dark bedroom. Tiffany is curled up on her bed, her blonde hair fanning out around her head as she stares at the ceiling, deep in thought. Her full lips are slightly parted as her chest rises and falls with each breath. My fists involuntarily clench at the sight of her flawless skin, curves, and long legs.

I almost forgot she was staying in the next room over.

I close the door behind me; the sound snaps Tiffany out of her reverie. She looks up, eyes widening in surprise and panic as she sees me standing in the doorway. She freezes before scrambling to sit up.

It’s an instinctive response to danger—a primal emotion. My sweet and cautious Tiffany knows that danger is always lurking nearby; her uncle isn’t the only one capable of violence. She understands she can never truly relax in predator’s territory.

Her reaction pleases me. It’s good that she’s afraid; there’s still some self-preservation left in her after all.

But her words, spoken in the same sweet tone as before, grate on my nerves.

“Thank you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “For what?”

Tiffany licks her lips and curls up into a ball, resting her chin on her knees. “The guards brought me food after you left,” she says. Her bright blue eyes meet mine.

My jaw clenches as I remain silent, fighting the urge to lash out. My father would have found this situation amusing. The ruthless Adrien Leroy is drawn to the one woman he should see as an enemy.

Tiffany watches me closely. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“You can ask. But that does not mean I will answer.”

Instead of sitting beside her, I choose to take a seat at the other end of the bed. I need to keep some distance between us. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep myself in check if we’re too close.

“What did my uncle do to make you so angry?”

I observe her body language, searching for any signs of deceit, but she doesn’t waver. Her blue eyes are soft and determined. Kind.

“I will eventually find out.” She holds my gaze with intensity. “I won’t ask much of you, but I need to know this. Please tell me the truth.”

I stay silent, staring back at her.

“Please.”

I grit my teeth and open my mouth, ready to shut her down, but something stops me. Maybe it’s her gentle tone, the sadness in her eyes, or the way she clutches onto her knees with trembling hands. Or perhaps it’s just the fact that I want Tiffany to trust me.

“He betrayed me.”

When I offer no more information, Tiffany inches closer to me, her hand reaching out, but I catch her wrist before she can touch me.

“How?”

“Dean double-crossed me and put me and my men in a precarious position.” I stare down at her hand in my grasp—her delicate skin, her soft fingers. My other hand clenches into a fist, the knuckles turning white. I can feel myself on the brink of unraveling, just like the night I found my father’s lifeless body at our villa in Italy. “That’s all you’ll get for now.”

“I’m sorry,” Tiffany whispers.

I study her face. She looks genuinely sad and apologetic—I can’t bring myself to believe it. Yesterday, she was angry and defiant. Today, she’s vulnerable and remorseful.

“For what?”

“I want to apologize for my uncle’s actions. I can’t undo the harm he has caused, but I truly am sorry.”

“Love, you don’t even understand what you’re apologizing for. And even if you did, I don’t need pity or empty apologies,” I say. Her eyes fall to the sheets before meeting mine again with innocent doe-like eyes. I shake my head. “Now, it’s my turn to ask you something.”

Tiffany blinks, taken aback by my sudden change in mood. She waits for me to continue, her full lips parted and shallow breaths filling the air.

“Did you truly think you could fool me?” I ask.

Her eyes widen in confusion, and she tilts her head to the side. “What are you talking about?”

“The innocent, vulnerable girl who pours her heart out to a stranger to gain their trust. Did you expect that it would work on me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, there’s no need to pretend.”

Tiffany raises her eyebrows and opens her mouth, about to respond, but I cut her off.

“Your demeanor. Your words. That pleading look in your eyes. Did you think it would sway me?”

Instantly, Tiffany’s gaze drops to the ground, and she bites her lip, cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

“Well?” I press.

“You cannot fault me for using what I have to get on your good side.”

“By pretending to be something you’re not?”

“We only met two days ago. Don’t act like you know me.”

“I knew right away—you’re too stubborn and honest to manipulate. I was sure you’d tell me what you think without sugarcoating it. That’s why I expect you to be angry at me, not to act as a saint.”

“You want me to be honest with you? Fine, I will.” Tiffany takes a deep breath and crosses her arms, drawing my eyes to her curves—to her breasts, her stomach, and the slim waist that dips down to her hips.

Tiffany Carter is the worst type of distraction.

“Since meeting you, I’ve been through a lot. I’ve been lied to, deceived, and I’ve been threatened. I will not let you treat me like I’m some piece of property that you can just take, use, and throw away. I’m a person. I’ll do whatever it takes to improve my situation and I refuse to apologize for that. Does that answer your question?”

Tiffany’s words aren’t what I wanted to hear. I hoped she would deny my accusation, get angry, and fight back. But she doesn’t. Instead, she gives me an honest, straightforward response.

Turning towards her, I settle against the bed and make myself comfortable. This kind of conversation is new to me—open and honest. I’ve always been one to keep my true intentions hidden. But here, in this room, with Tiffany beside me, I reveal more than I ever have before.

“You’re not what I expected.”

“I’m not?”

“No.”

I take my time studying her face, committing every detail to memory. She sits on the bed, tense and guarded, hugging her legs tightly to her chest. Her breathing is shallow and quick.

“Are you scared?” I ask, curious.

Tiffany blinks in surprise at the question. Her eyes briefly catch the light, turning silver before she glances away, a faint pink blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Yes.”

Reaching out, I gently grasp her chin and turn her face back towards mine. Our eyes lock again.

“Good. Rule number two: don’t try to manipulate me. It won’t work.” I release her chin and I let my fingers trail down her jawline. “You think you’re clever.” My fingertips brush through her hair. “I don’t care. Play your games with the guards all you want. They enjoy it when you act innocent and helpless.” Tiffany tenses as I run my fingers along her neck. “But I won’t fall for it.” I lean closer to her, our faces just inches apart. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she replies quickly.

“Good.”

I lean back, our eyes still locked together.

“Now, I’ll be going back to my room. I need some rest. Breakfast is at eight; the guard will take you to the dining room. Don’t be late.”

She nods.

“Oh, and Tiffany? If you’re good to me, I’ll be good to you. So don’t try anything stupid. Guards are patrolling the grounds. The gates are locked with barbed wire, and I have cameras monitoring the entire perimeter. If you try to run, you won’t get very far.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” I stand up, walk towards the door, and cast one last look at her for the night. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Adrien.”

As I close and lock the door behind me, I can’t help but notice how small and innocent she looks sitting on the bed. But I know that looks can be deceiving.

I press my forehead against the cool wood of the door and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly through my nose.

Tiffany’s presence will make my life a lot more complicated in more ways than one.