The Villains Must Win-Chapter 318: Apocalyptic Romance 28

Chaos was coming.

Violence was rising.

People were desperate.

All it needed was a single push — and Alvaro would be the one to shove.

Alvaro cracked his knuckles with a low chuckle.

"Let’s see how this prison likes a riot."

He’d burn the Bastion to the ground if that was what it took to walk back into Sasha’s arms.

Alvaro got his chance sooner than expected.

Chaos exploded inside the Bastion — again. Soldiers beat civilians for food. Civilians retaliated with stolen tools. The unrest turned into a wildfire of fists, knives, and desperate screams.

And the guards? They only cared about shutting everyone up.

Alvaro slipped through the fray like a shadow.

With the alarms blaring and soldiers distracted, he sprinted toward the gate. The undead outside, drawn by nights of noise and chaos, already pressed against the defenses.

Perfect.

He disabled the locking mechanism, the gate creaked open—

and death poured in like a flood.

Screams multiplied. Gunshots sparked everywhere.

Instead of running from the horror, Alvaro ran to the armored van he’d memorized the location of.

Thanks for the van, Sasha. Hot-wiring was easier than expected — especially with undead chewing soldiers behind him.

He slammed the accelerator.

"Hold on, Angel... I’m coming."

====

Cloud was back in the shower — for the third time today.

Sasha tried not to roll her eyes.

Cloud had been brooding for days. Yes, he was handsome when serious... but four days of brooding? Annoying.

He needs a push, she decided.

Cloud, meanwhile, stood under the warm water wrestling with guilt and identity.

I swore to protect them. Abandoning the Bastion... would make me a traitor.

Yet—

Every time he tried to tell Sasha he’d go with her, the words died in his throat. Honor and survival fought inside his chest like wild beasts.

He had been a soldier all his life, and to suddenly turn his back at that fact . . .

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice his fresh shirt slipping onto the wet floor... completely soaked.

Fantastic.

He reluctantly stepped out — bare chest dripping, towel lazily thrown across his shoulders. His pants hung low, showing a scandalous V-line that had no business being that sexy.

He expected Sasha to hand him a shirt and move on.

He did not expect her reaction.

Sasha froze mid-game, console slipping from her fingers.

Holy muscles.

She had seen Cloud fight, sweat, bleed — but clean and half-naked?

That was a different kind of apocalypse.

His shoulders were broad enough to carry armies.

His torso carved like he was personally sculpted by the universe to ruin self-control. And the droplets tracing his abs... unfair. Extremely unfair.

"Is there... a problem?" Cloud asked, genuinely confused.

Sasha snapped out of her trance toward... opportunity.

She was baffled as how Cloud was so ignorant of his own charms. It was almost too cute and she felt a little guilty for preying on him.

She stood with the confidence of someone about to commit a crime of passion.

"You shouldn’t walk around like that," she scolded, closing in.

"You’ll catch a cold."

Cloud blinked, startled by her sudden proximity. "I—uh... just need a shirt. Mine’s wet—"

But Sasha wasn’t listening.

She plucked the towel from his head.

And tiptoed closer.

And closer.

Cloud suddenly forgot how to breathe.

Sasha was close — too close — and his usually sharp instincts were failing him spectacularly.

His pulse hammered in his ears like drums before war. Every time her fingers brushed his hair, a spark shot down his spine. He’d faced monsters without flinching... yet this tiny woman with a towel was his greatest threat.

Why is my heart reacting like this?

Why does she feel like danger?

...Why don’t I want to move away?

It didn’t help that Sasha was still wearing her sleepwear — a thin shirt and cotton shorts. Comfortable. Casual. Entirely illegal for his sanity.

Her silhouette was soft and feminine, the kind of softness Cloud had nearly forgotten existed in this ruined world. Her warmth pressed close, her scent clean from the water she’d splashed earlier — sweet, floral, alive.

His gaze slipped — for just a moment — toward the gentle shape of her curves beneath the thin fabric. Her nipples strained against the fabric.

Focus. Soldier. Focus.

He snapped his eyes back to her face, but that was even worse — because Sasha was smiling. A knowing, quiet, devastating smile that told him she understood exactly what she was doing.

"Sasha..." Cloud said, trying to steady his breathing.

His voice betrayed him — lower, rougher, too honest.

"Yes, Commander?" she murmured, her breath brushing his jaw as she continued drying his hair.

He shut his eyes for a second. "You’re... distracting."

"Am I?" Her tone was pure mischief.

He opened his mouth to argue — but then their eyes met.

Really met.

And everything else — the apocalypse, the undead, the betrayal — disappeared into the background.

For a heartbeat, the world was just her reflection in his eyes.

Soft. Warm.

Dangerous.

Cloud stepped back, or tried to — but the wall was already behind him.

Sasha leaned in, one hand resting lightly on his chest to balance herself — and Cloud nearly jumped out of his skin.

He could feel the rapid beat of his heart slamming against her palm. She felt it too — because her eyes widened slightly, surprised.

For once, Sasha was the one caught off guard.

Water rolled from his hair, gliding over the ridges of his muscles before disappearing beneath his waistband.

Cloud’s breath hitched.

He could face a horde of undead without blinking.

Yet one small woman drying his hair had turned him into a malfunctioning system.

"Sasha..." His voice was low. Warning. Begging. Unsure.

"Yes?" she asked innocently, still towel-drying him like she owned him.

"You’re... very close."

"Should I be farther?" she whispered — and did not move an inch.

He swallowed hard. "Maybe... just a little."

She ignored him entirely.

"You’re tense," she observed. "Relax."

"That’s... not easy right now," Cloud murmured, ears turning red.

Sasha smiled — slow and victorious.

Push delivered, and for the grand finale.

Cloud’s breath stuttered — uneven, uncontrolled — as Sasha leaned in even closer.

"You’re so tense, Commander...," she whispered, voice like velvet sliding over a blade. Her fingers traced the firm line of his abdomen, stopping just above the waistband of his pants.

Every muscle in Cloud’s body locked.

Her touch wasn’t rough. It wasn’t forceful.

But it was addictive — and it demanded his full attention.