Kissed by the Killer

Chapter Three : Dangerous Desires Violet Virgilson The faint metallic smell of blood clung to the air as I helped Vincent Virenson into the guest room. My hands shook slightly, though I'd like to pretend it wasn't from his injury-or from him. "Careful. I'm not as fragile as I look," he muttered, one eyebrow arching in that infuriating, arrogant way that made my pulse spike. "But... apparently, I am in Marco's incompetent hands." I ignored him and guided him onto the bed, stacking pillows behind his back. His blazer was ruined, his shirt soaked in blood, his jaw clenched like he was daring me-or the world-to challenge him. "Don't worry," I said, masking the tremor in my voice. "I know what I'm doing." "You'd better," he rasped, eyes glinting with mockery. "I wouldn't want my death to be caused by... nervous hands." I bit back a retort, reaching for the torn fabric. Every inch of him radiated danger and arrogance. My eyes lingered a second too long on the sharp line of his jaw. My pulse betrayed me. "Vincent," I said firmly, "stop pretending you're indestructible. You're bleeding." "Do I look hurt?" he smirked. "I look... annoyed. That's much more my style." I rolled my eyes, but a reluctant smile tugged at my lips. He was impossible. When my fingers brushed his skin as I cleaned the wound, he hissed-whether from pain or something else, I couldn't tell. "Careful, sweetheart," he drawled, voice low, teasing, dangerous. "Keep touching me like that, and I won't let you stop." I froze. My heart jumped, but I masked it with sarcasm. "Vincent Valentino Virenson, if you say one more ridiculous thing, I swear-" "You'll what?" His smirk deepened. "Tell me off? Adorable." I huffed and focused on the bandages. "Why did Marco run? Why did he leave you like this?" Something flickered in his eyes-hurt? Rage? He hid it quickly, but his jaw tightened. "Marco made a mistake," he said coldly. "A very, very expensive mistake. And when he realizes what he's done..." His voice dropped, lethal. "...there will be blood." I swallowed hard. Even broken, he radiated power. "Violet," he said suddenly, his tone soft but sharp, "you shouldn't be here. Stay, and you'll burn. Leave, and I'll still find you." The possessiveness in his words made me flinch... yet shiver. "You're done," I said finally, tying the last knot in the bandage. "Now rest. You've had enough adventure for one day." "I don't rest." I arched a brow. "So you're going to lie there, bleed, and look heroic while I watch you suffer?" "Exactly." He smirked, even pale and exhausted. "Infuriating," I muttered. --- Vincent Virenson She thought she was untouchable, standing there glaring at me. But Violet Virgilson was dangerous in a way I hated to admit. Not the kind that killed with knives or guns-but the kind that killed slowly, with care. With eyes that made me want to trust. "You know," I murmured, "you could have killed me." She froze. "Excuse me?" "One wrong stitch, one slip..." I let the words hang. She bristled, exactly as I expected. "But you didn't. So I guess I owe you." "Don't start." Her voice trembled-proof she cared. Dangerous. Problematic. Addictive. "You should sleep," I told her, watching her try to walk away. "I don't sleep." "Then I'll have to make you." --- Violet Virgilson I was halfway to the door when his voice caught me. "Violet... sleep on the bed with me." I froze. "Excuse me?" "Don't play games. It's either here, or the sofa with Caroline." My cat. The judgmental furball who'd glare at me all night. "Fine," I snapped, crossing the room. I perched stiffly on the edge of the bed. He smirked. "Relax. I won't do anything you don't want. I'm too tired. Plus, injured." My cheeks burned. I stared at him, stubbornly refusing to melt. --- Vincent Virenson She sat rigid, pretending I didn't affect her. But her breath gave her away. Her pulse betrayed her. "Violet," I murmured, brushing my shoulder against hers, "staying here changes everything." She flinched. "I'm not-" Her voice faltered. I smirked, satisfied. "Shh. You'll be fine. Just sleep." But as her eyes finally fluttered shut, I wasn't looking at her. I was staring at the window. Because in the reflection of the glass- -I saw a shadow. Someone was watching us. --