Villainess.exe-Chapter 56: What It Takes to Be Theo Vinter

[Evelina’s POV—Vinter Mansion—That Night]

Night fell without ceremony.

No storm. No dramatic thunder. Just the slow sinking of the sun behind iron gates and taller walls—like the world itself deciding it didn’t want to witness what this place contained.

The Hartgraves were gone.

Driven away by silence, by refusal, by the simple fact that the gates never opened again.

I stood at the window of my assigned room, watching the last trace of daylight bleed into black. The glass reflected my face faintly—paler than usual, eyes sharper, steadier. Someone who had already crossed too many lines to pretend innocence still mattered.

Theo Vinter.

How should I form a bond with him? Do I need to charm him? Manipulate him? Mirror his obsession until it mistakes itself for love?

Or is it already too late for strategy? Or...did I already charm him?

The thought unsettled me more than I liked.

Knock. Knock.

"Miss..." Rowan’s voice cut cleanly through my spiral.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened without a sound. Rowan stepped inside, posture precise, expression unreadable. He closed the door behind him with the quiet finality of a man sealing off the world.

"The Hartgraves have left the premises," he reported. "They will not return."

"I know."

A pause.

"Theo Vinter instructed additional security to be placed around your hallway," Rowan continued evenly. "No one enters without authorization."

"His authorization," I corrected.

Rowan’s jaw tightened. Just slightly.

"...Yes."

I crossed my arms. "Say what you’re thinking."

He hesitated. That alone was new.

"Miss," he said finally, "Theo Vinter’s behavior today was... excessive."

I didn’t turn. "Tell me something I don’t know, Rowan."

"He spoke openly about extermination," Rowan went on. "Not as a threat. As an option."

I met his gaze through the reflection in the glass. "Does that bother you?"

"No," he replied immediately.

Then—after a breath that was just a fraction too slow—"It bothers me that he spoke as if he didn’t need your consent."

The room felt colder.

Rowan took a step forward. "Miss... If you want, I can take you somewhere no one can find you."

I turned slightly.

"Not even Theo Vinter. We...can run away, Miss," he finished quietly.

I stared at him for a long moment. Then I looked back out the window, at the darkness swallowing the grounds.

"I like your idea, Rowan."

Relief flickered across his face. He straightened. "Then I’ll prepare—"

"But," I cut in softly, "I need Theo Vinter."

The words fell heavy.

Rowan froze.

"...Why?" he asked, disbelief threading his voice. "Miss, that man is nothing but a walking cage. If you get closer to him, he will trap you. Lock you inside his world. His rules. His obsession."

"I know," I said.

"And once he does," Rowan continued, tension bleeding into steel, "there is no escape. He doesn’t love gently. He doesn’t release what he claims."

"I don’t mind." The words snapped out sharper than I intended.

Rowan stared at me.

"I don’t mind what he does to me," I repeated, my voice lower now, steady in a way that frightened even me.

My fingers clenched at my side.

Because this is the only way to end this game. The only way to return to my world. That is the price of being Evelina Hartgrave. I don’t need freedom. I need an ending."

Rowan stared at me, and he searched my face—really searched this time.

"...He will ruin you, Miss," Rowan said quietly.

"Then I’ll ruin him right back," I replied.

Something dark settled in Rowan’s eyes—not anger. Not jealousy. Acceptance.

Because if ruining each other was the end of this game—then so be it. I would form a bond with Theo Vinter.

A cursed bond.A dangerous one.A bond sharp enough to cut its own creator.

And then— SLAM!!!

THUD!!!CRACK!!!BANG—!!!!

The world shattered.

The walls shook violently, like the mansion itself had been punched. Glass rattled in its frames. The floor trembled under my feet.

We both flinched.

"What’s going on?" I demanded, already moving.

I yanked the door open—and froze.

Theo’s men stood lined outside my room, weapons raised, bodies tense, eyes sharp like hounds straining against their leashes.

"Miss," one of them said immediately, stepping forward, palm raised. "Please stay inside."

"What’s happening?" I pressed. "Tell me."

"I’m sorry, miss," he replied stiffly. "We are not authorized to inform you."

My brows furrowed.

And then—

BANG!BANG!BANG—!!!

Gunfire tore through the mansion.

Not distant. Not muffled. Close. Violent. Relentless. Shots echoed down the corridors, sharp and deafening, followed by screams that cut off mid-sound. Something heavy slammed into the walls. The scent of gunpowder crept under my door, thick and bitter.

My stomach dropped.

"Is this another assassination attempt on Theo?" I asked sharply.

No answer.

The guards didn’t even blink. They stood like statues carved from duty and blood. The gunfire didn’t stop. Minutes blurred into something worse than time. Shot after shot. Screams. Silence. Then more shots. Over and over—until midnight swallowed the sound whole.

And then—Nothing.

No footsteps.No screams.No gunfire.

Just the ringing in my ears.

One of the guards lifted his communicator. "Yes," he said quietly. "...Understood."

He lowered it and stepped aside. "You may go now, miss."

I didn’t wait.

I walked forward, and the moment I reached the stairs, my vision shattered.

Bodies.

So many bodies.

They covered the steps like a grotesque carpet—twisted, broken, blood pooling between marble cracks, limbs bent at impossible angles. The smell hit me all at once: iron, smoke, death.

And there—at the top of the stairs—stood Theo Vinter.

Drenched.

Not splattered.

Drenched.

Blood soaked his shirt, clung to his hands, and streaked down his jaw and neck. In one hand, he held a shattered lamp, its glass cracked and glowing weakly—like a dying star.

His other arm was wrapped tightly around Alina.

She clung to him with both hands, fingers buried in his sleeve, her small body trembling violently. Her face was pressed into his side, hiccups breaking through her sobs. Theo’s posture was rigid. Forced. Like a man standing on pure will alone.

Then—He looked at me.

His golden eyes were wrong.

Cold.Dead.Exhausted beyond words.

The eyes of a man who had killed too much tonight.

And then—he smiled.

"Babe..." His voice was low, hoarse, and barely holding together. "Did I disturb you with the noise?"

Something in my chest cracked.

Why—why did it look like he would collapse any second now?

I didn’t think.

I moved.

Rowan tried to stop me... "Miss...it can be dangerous—"

But I didn’t listen to him. I stepped onto the stairs, my shoes sinking into blood, into bodies, into death. I didn’t care. I didn’t look down. I ran.

Theo’s knees buckled.

His eyes fluttered. Before he could fall—before Alina could be dragged down with him—I caught him.

My arms wrapped around his blood-soaked body, his weight slamming into me hard. He was heavy. Too heavy. A man who had been standing only because stopping meant dying.

"Are you okay?" I asked urgently, gripping him tighter.

He didn’t answer.

Alina lifted her tear-streaked face and looked at me.

"Aunty..." she sobbed, reaching out with shaking hands. "Where were you...? I was scared..."

She clung to my other arm, small fingers locking around my sleeve as if letting go meant the world would end.

And suddenly—I was holding them both. Theo Vinter—drenched in blood, barely conscious, a man who had just turned his home into a battlefield.

And Alina—trembling, broken, hiding in the only place she knew was safe.

My arms felt too small.

Too weak.

What is this?What kind of existence did he live—where a child learned to cling through gunfire, where blood stained staircases like routine decor, and where protection meant slaughter before midnight?

Theo’s head dipped slightly, resting—just barely—against my shoulder.

For a fleeting second—He looked human.

Not a mafia king.Not a monster.Not the deleted male lead who broke the game.

Just a man who carried death on his back... and still shielded a child with his body.

"I handled it..." he murmured faintly, breath warm against my neck. "They won’t come again. He won’t send them again."

He?

I tightened my grip without realizing it.

And in that moment—standing in blood, holding a man the world feared and a child who only knew him as "uncle"—I understood the cruel truth behind the curse.

Theo Vinter’s life wasn’t just dangerous.

It was hidden.Layered.Darker than the game itself.

This world tried to frame him as a monster.

But monsters didn’t shield children with their bodies. They didn’t stand upright through gunfire just to make sure someone smaller survived.

Theo’s existence was a battlefield no one ever saw—and tonight, I had stepped onto it.

Alina’s arms tightened around me, her small body shaking as exhaustion finally caught up with fear. Theo’s weight pressed heavier against my side, his breathing uneven, his strength draining by the second.

I didn’t push them away.

I didn’t hesitate.

I let them cling to me.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t calculating affection points or routes or survival flags.

I was choosing.

"Take them to my room," I said quietly.

Rowan stepped forward immediately, eyes sharp, assessing Theo’s condition in one glance. The guards moved in perfect coordination—clearing the path, opening doors, shielding us from the blood-soaked hall like it was routine.

Just like that, the mansion shifted.

From battlefield to refuge.

Theo leaned into me, his head dipping slightly as if my presence was the only thing keeping him upright. Alina buried her face against my shoulder, her sobs fading into shallow, exhausted breaths.

And without another word—I took them both with me.

Into my room.

Into the only space that felt safe enough to breathe.

Behind us, the doors closed softly.

But the truth stayed.

Heavy.

Unavoidable.

If this was the life of the deleted male lead—then bonding with Theo Vinter didn’t mean escaping the game.

It meant stepping fully into the darkest route of all.