Chapter Fifteen

Malice

Leaning against a tree, I watched her from afar, keeping my distance. I was good at watching. A pro. She would never know I was there unless I showed myself.

Mainly, I just wanted to see what she would do next.

She never truly understood me.

She never understood my compulsion.

There was something about her that called to me. It was so strong that sometimes it felt like I didn't have any other choice in the matter. Almost as if some unforeseen force drew me to her.

It was unnerving, and I hated it.

I hated being anything where she was concerned.

I hated she was now mine. That she had this hold over me, I couldn't shake.

Mostly, I hated her.

"Here." Montana walked over, holding out a hotdog.

Looking at it, then at him, I said nothing, and I turned back to her.

"Fine, starve to death. I don't care," the annoying fucker said, right before he shoved half the damn hotdog into his pie hole.

"Why are we standing here with our thumbs up our asses watching her like some perv? Why not walk over there and drag her ass back home?"

Growling, I shook my head.

Fucking neanderthal.

Of course he would do that.

Fucker never thought about anything but his own wants and needs. Didn't he understand Arianwen was her own person? Even though I hated it, she had the right to privacy and from what I was seeing, that was all she wanted right now.

She wanted time to herself.

Time to think.

"Gentlemen."

Growling again, I hung my head and sighed.

Of course he would be here too.

What was it about my woman that had every fucking man in the city coming out in droves?

"What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?" Montana sneered.

"It's a beautiful day. Thought I'd enjoy the warm sun on my face." Maxim Fedorov smiled and took a bite of the large pretzel in his hand.

"Liar. You're being fucking nosey, as usual," Montana clipped. "But since you're here, does the name Iris Hughes mean anything to you?"

Maxim grinned. "Should it?"

"Don't fuck with me, Maxim. I'm not in the mood."

"I know. A little birdy told me that your bartender is full of surprises."

"And how the hell did you find that out?"

"My little birds are everywhere." Maxim smirked evilly as he looked around the park. "And may I congratulate you, Malice, on your choice of women? Arianwen is a lovely young woman."

I growled again, ignoring the annoying fucker. Ever since he and Illyria had gotten their shit together, the Russian fucker had done a one-eighty. He was downright personable now.

It was fucking freaky as hell, and I hated it.

"Was there a meeting I wasn't aware of?" Matthew Law asked, walking over and smiling as he bit into a cherry snow cone.

What the fuck was happening?

"Go away, Law." Montana groaned. "Don't need you here."

"Technically, you're in my front yard, dickhead. See that big building right over there? It's mine. I own it."

"Keep talking smack and my club will buy the damn thing and throw your ass into the street," Montana threatened, and Matthew threw his head back and laughed.

"Good luck with that."

"Thought you were in Florida dismantling the Trick Pony?"

"I was." Matthew nodded, while he took a quick look in Arianwen's direction. "But something here required my attention."

"Does that something have anything to do with Storm's sister?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Matthew smirked.

Ignoring the three stooges, I stood up straight and growled, halting all conversation as someone approached Arianwen.

"Who the fuck is that?" Montana glared menacingly.

"Running facial recognition now," Law stated, snapping a pic of the guy with his phone.

"Want me to kill him?" Maxim sneered, reaching inside his suit jacket. The three of us slowly turned to look at the Bloodletter.

And these fuckers were worried about me.

Shaking my head, I turned back to see the man walk away and Arianwen get to her feet.

She was leaving.

Pushing off the tree, I followed, only to stop when I heard all three of them right behind me. Turning, I looked at each man.

Each with varying degrees of merriment on their faces.

"Go away," I growled.

"Can't do that," Montana quickly said.

"Only here to help," Maxim offered.

"I'm here for the laughs." Law chuckled.

Flipping them the one-finger bird, I walked off.

Fucking pricks.

I hated them the most.

As she strolled through the city, I trailed behind at a respectful speed, ensuring not to get too close. Along the way, she paused intermittently to admire the merchandise showcased in shop windows or to offer assistance to those who appeared lost or requested some form of aid.

I thought it strange.

For years, I believed I knew everything there was to know about Arianwen. Her likes and dislikes. Favorite foods, what made her laugh. Over the years, I've seen her happy, sad, angry, upset.

However, as I continued to observe her, I came to the realization that there were still aspects of her character and personality that I had yet to uncover and comprehend. One of the things that stood out about her was the fact she took the time and showed genuine concern for the homeless. It seemed that whatever she communicated to them had a positive effect, as was evidenced by the smiles on their faces and the improved mood they displayed despite the challenges they were facing.

With a sense of confusion, I opted to stay hidden in the shadows, carefully observing her movements. While I observed the scene unfold, I witnessed her displaying a humble gesture by kneeling before an elderly gentleman and diligently jotting down a message on a tiny sheet of paper, which she graciously handed over to him. After exchanging a few more words, she tightly embraced the man, as if their bond had been forged over many years, and bid him farewell with genuine wishes for his happiness, before resuming her stroll down the bustling street.

I walked over to the man, feeling confused, and asked him directly, "The woman who was just here. What did she say to you?"

"What's it to you?" the weathered old man challenged, his voice filled with years of experience and determination.

Reaching for my wallet, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. "Tell me and it's yours."

"She was sweet. Said she didn't have any money on her, but if I ever got hungry, I could find her behind the big warehouse on Pier 81. Said to knock three times and she would give me food."

As I dropped the hundred in his lap, I quickly turned my attention to her, my eyes searching for her figure amidst the bustling crowd.

Observing that she wasn't in a hurry, I slowed down my pace to match hers, taking in the surrounding scenery.

She was never in a hurry.

Not in anything she did.

It was one of the things that confused me about her. Arianwen delighted in the vibrant scenery, the melodic sounds, and the fragrant aromas, as if she was reluctant to let the experience come to an end. She seamlessly integrated into club life, becoming a natural part of the lively and electric atmosphere. She never complained, handling everything with a calm and collected demeanor. Without skepticism, she took people's words at face value, never questioning their intentions.

She was trustworthy, honest, and loyal to a fault.

Even when I showed up at her place in the dead of night, she didn't fight me. Despite knowing what was about to happen, she accepted the situation and went on to defend me afterwards. If it was any other woman, I would be in jail for the actions I took against her. Deep down, I had a strong realization that I had subjected her to an ordeal comparable to rape. However, when everything was said and done, she never held me accountable. Even upon my return to the clubhouse, I noticed her presence right beside me, persistently attempting to convince Montana to see reason.

He was right, though. Had I been a more honorable individual, I would have readily surrendered my brand to him at that precise moment. Although I believed I deserved all the actions he wanted to take against me and then some, Arianwen stood in his way and stopped him.

It was the first time I ever saw her stand up to Montana.

"Why are you following me?"

Coming to a halt, I turned my gaze to the right and found her standing there, her eyes fixed on me, anticipating my response. There was no trace of anger in her gaze. It was like she had a silent understanding that I would be trailing behind her, as she never bothered to check if I was there.

"You left."

"Because you sent me to my room like an errant child."

With a deep breath, she glanced around the street, her gaze drifting aimlessly without fixating on any specific object.

She was angry.

I could see that now.

"Is this how it's going to be between us, Malice? You give me an order and expect me to obey like an obedient dog."

I growled.

She huffed.

"Answer me this. Why did Torment give Montana a gold coin?"

"To save my life."

"I see," she whispered. "And why did he do that?"

"I don't know."

"Nobody knows anything," she clipped before continuing on her walk. Following closely behind her, I didn't bother with hiding. She knew I was there. What was the point?

Making her way into Davenport Tower, she briskly walked past me, not wasting a moment as she headed directly toward the elevators. As we rode the elevator up to her floor, neither of us exchanged a single word with each other. When we entered her penthouse, the only sound that broke the silence was the soft click of her footsteps when she walked over to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water.

Unsure of what to do, I remained rooted in front of the door, anxiously awaiting any sign from her about how to proceed.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she let out a long, exasperated sigh. "This will not work if you don't talk to me. I can't read your mind. I don't know what you're thinking. Give me something, Malice. Are you having second thoughts about claiming me? Do you want out of whatever this is? If so, all you need to do is say the words."

"No."

"No, you won't say anything or no, you don't want me?"

"Mine."

With a roll of her eyes, she turned her gaze toward me and gave me a piercing glare. "New rule, Malice. When I ask a question, I get more than a one-word response."

"You're mine. I'm not giving you up."

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

I growled.

Shaking her head, she walked over to the brand-new sofa and sat. "I don't know what to say here, Malice. This is new for me too. All I know is that one minute you hated me and the next you claimed me. Then you took off, leaving me to deal with Montana's crazy ass. Where did you go?"

"To see my mother."

She looked away.

I hated that I couldn't see her face.

Feeling uncertain, I inched closer to her when the jarring sound of a door being forcefully kicked open caused me to flinch as it collided with my back. Reacting instinctively, I swiftly turned, my fingers tightening around the grip of my gun as I directed it towards the intruder.

"WHOA!" Montana shouted, holding up his hands.

"Get out," I snarled.

"Not going to fucking happen, asshole."

Cocking my gun, I sneered, "Now."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Arianwen cursed, stepping in front of me. "That's it! I've fucking had it. Since neither of you know how to be truthful and tell me what the fuck is going on, I'm done. I am washing my hands of the both of you. Montana, got mad love for you, but this is my place. Unless you are here to tell me it's no longer mine?"

Montana slowly shook his head. "No. It's yours."

"Then leave and take Malice with you."

"No," I growled.

She abruptly turned her attention to me and spoke in a clipped manner. "What did I just say about one-word responses?"

"I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Too fucking bad," she said, pushing me and Montana out the door. Once we were in the hallway, she didn't hesitate to slam the door in our faces, leaving us shocked and bewildered.

I could feel Montana's intense stare piercing through me with hostility. "Now see what you've done."