Page 59 of Heroes & Villains: The Complete Dark Romance Duet

“Whoa, Barbie. Calm down.”

“Don’t call me Barbie. I’m not that.”

“You are when you look like this. The way they want you to look.”

“If you came here to ruin my night, you’re too late.”

His expression, what I can see of it through the mask that covers one half of his face, grows serious.

“I came to see if you’d come to your senses yet.” He makes a point of feeling my ring finger, which is empty, and smiles. “Ophelia Hart, don’t tell me you grew a backbone?”

“Fuck off, Silas,” I say. I try to break away but of course he doesn’t let me.

“Let’s go.” Without waiting for me to acquiesce and in the middle of the dance, he whisks me off the floor, and I realize the whole time we were dancing he was leading me through the crowd and to the edge of the dance floor. Silas Cruz is as calculating a man as any I know.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m done with men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who have an ulterior motive. Men who are only with me because it somehow benefits them.” Because that’s what Ethan was doing too. He was with me because it’s what his parents decreed for him, not because he wanted to be with me. I wonder if he’s secretly relieved that I broke it off. He’d never have done it. “And I’m done playing the fool.”

“Good. It’s about time,” Silas says, eyes intent on me.

“I wasn’t looking for your approval.”

“Yes,” he says.

“No, I⁠—”

“Yes, I bought your house,” he says. I stare up at him, my mouth agape.

“Why?” I finally manage to ask.

“Come, Ophelia,” he says, a note of tenderness in his tone.

“Why would you do that?” He overbid on the house. The buyer paid almost double what it’s worth.

He shrugs a shoulder as he leads me to a staff corridor. This time, he doesn’t have to force me along. He opens the door at the end of the hall. “It’s yours, isn’t it?” he asks.

“I don’t understand.”

“I may not be a good person, Ophelia, I may be the villain you accused me of being, but I will always be there to rescue you, whether you think you need me or not.” I am stunned into silence. What he said feels raw, naked. Honest. I wonder if he’s been thinking about my calling him a villain ever since I said it.

I wish he wasn’t wearing that mask. I wish we were somewhere quiet and alone, and we weren’t wearing masks at all, and I could see if what I think I see is real. And he could see that ache that I know is written on my face. If he did, he would see that for me, it’s more real than anything else in my life. He can’t know how much those words he said to me after finding the ring in my pocket hurt. How much they still hurt. The wound they left is still raw. And right now, all I want is for him to know that.

“Silas?”

He takes a deep breath in, then turns to lead me up the stairs. The room is located above the stage upon which the orchestra is situated. From here you can see out into the ballroom while remaining unobserved. I wonder if this was where he’d been watching me from, like some sort of phantom. It’s a storage room of sorts full of dusty curtains and tablecloths, boxes upon boxes of dinnerware, crystal and silver service, the works.

“Do you remember what happened the last time we were here?” he asks, turning me to face him so the small window is at my back. He unties the ribbon that holds my mask in place and sets it aside, taking his off and placing it beside mine on the empty stool nearby.

God. He’s so beautiful. Even with his crooked nose and the scar on his temple.

“Do you?” he prods.

I bite my lip, nod. Of course, I remember.

He’d been up here when I’d come last time.