The Villain Duet by Bella J.

Prologue

Charlotte

Present

Silence.

It was a precious sound. A sound so many took for granted. A sound no writer or poet could put into words. It could only be experienced. Appreciated. Longed for.

People claimed to know what silence sounded like. But to most, silence was merely the absence of noise. To others, it was that time when you were finally able to hear your thoughts.

To me…it was this. This moment. This point in time when there was nothing, not even the sound of a single breath. The few seconds of peace when my mind was free of every thought. Free of the troubles that stirred the disquiet in my soul.

Free of the pain.

I settled my feet flat on the ground, my body relaxed yet posture firm. For thirteen years, every muscle was trained to release the tension so nothing hindered my pursuit of perfection. And no matter the chaos that surrounded me, or the pain that crippled me, there was nothing more important than that.

Perfection.

I held the bow between my fingers, leaned my head a little to the left as I focused on the smooth touch of the wood and the scent of rosin. That pine smell alone had the power to calm a thousand storms that raged in my veins. So familiar. Calming.

During these moments, I never thought about what would come next. The road ahead was always dark, unknowing, and uncertain. But that was the part I loved the most. The mystery, the excitement of wondering what perfection would look like this time. It was never the same. Constantly bending and shaping differently than it did before.

I let out a breath and slowly moved the bow across the strings, the first note causing chills to flow down my back as the anticipation started to build. The deep yet soft sound reached inside my chest, allowing me to feel it—to feel the music that escaped my heart only to echo off the strings and create the most beautiful melody that had the power to make souls weep. Even the cruelest and wickedest couldn’t resist the seduction of music.

With every move of my fingers along the neck of the cello, the sound, the vibrato swept me away—out of this room, out of this world, far away from the pain.

Far away from…him.

Soon the music entranced me, the cello and I moving as one. Note after note, I laid my every fear, my every dream out on the ground beneath my feet, because there was no place for anything but the resonating tenor of the instrument that rested against my heart.

With my eyes closed, I moved the bow flawlessly across the strings, the music filling the room, touching the walls as it built—louder, stronger, more powerful. I would solely exist to help it find its way toward the crescendo it deserved. And once it did, it would explode into fragments of unsurmountable splendor.

This was my life. This was what defined me.

Music.

As the final note played, I lifted the bow away from the strings and exhaled. Silence slowly smothered the sound until there was nothing left of the music I had just played.

My chest rose and fell, my skin electrified and sweat beading at my temples. I opened my eyes and stared out in front of me, straight at him.

The man who demanded I play for him.

The man who took me.