Villainess.exe-Chapter 61: The Wicked Family

[Evelina’s POV—Vinter Corporation—Later]

"An envelope, huh?" I murmured, turning it lazily between my fingers. The Hartgrave seal stared back at me—desperate, pretentious, already cracking.

I smirked. "What should I do," I mused aloud, "play with her a little?"

The thought tasted sweet.

"I wonder," I added, voice light and wicked, "how she’d look kneeling on the ground."

Warmth slid in behind me.

Not the room. Him.

A broad hand settled at my waist with infuriating familiarity—gentle, heavy, claiming. Theo’s presence wrapped around me like smoke. His chin rested on my shoulder, breath warm against my ear.

"Say the word, babe," he murmured, voice low and dangerous, velvet dragged over steel. "Who do you want to see kneeling? I can make that happen."

I glanced back at him, unimpressed. "Will you stop touching me so casually?"

He didn’t move his hand.

Instead, he smiled—slow, shameless, and unapologetic.

"Casual?" he echoed softly. "No. Intentional."

His thumb pressed, just slightly, like punctuation. "In my world, I don’t touch anything I’m not prepared to defend with blood."

I rolled my eyes. "You say that like it’s romantic."

"It is," he replied easily. "If you’re alive in my world."

I turned fully then, stepping into his space instead of away from it. The envelope tapped once against his chest. "You enjoy this too much."

Theo’s gaze dropped to the seal, then lifted back to my eyes—dark, amused, and predatory. "You’re thinking about breaking her before she ever realizes she’s lost," he said. "That look? I know it."

"And?" I asked.

"And I like it," he said frankly. "You don’t beg. You don’t chase. You dismantle."

He leaned closer, voice lowering. "If you want to toy with her, I’ll clear the board. If you want to end her clean, I’ll handle the paperwork and the bodies."

I scoffed. "Always so dramatic."

"Efficient," he corrected. "There’s a difference."

I slipped the envelope into my bag, eyes gleaming. "Relax. I’m not asking you to ruin her."

Theo arched a brow. "Yet."

I smirked. "I want her to watch it fall apart. Slowly. To understand that I didn’t come back for forgiveness—I came back to finish it."

His hand tightened at my waist, approving. "That’s my girl."

I shot him a warning look. "Don’t start."

He laughed under his breath, shamelessly. "Too late. You said kneeling. I heard a prayer."

I stepped past him, heels clicking, wicked smile intact. "Behave, Mr. Vinter."

Theo followed, unbothered, eyes lit with hunger and amusement. "No promises," he said lightly. "Especially when you look like you’re about to rewrite someone’s ending."

And behind us, the office lights hummed—bright, clinical, complicit—while I decided just how much mercy I was willing to fake today.

Theo’s phone vibrated.

Once.

That was all it took.

The shift in him was instant—like a blade sliding free of its sheath. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by something sharp, cold, and murderous. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening, then looked away from me.

"I’ll see you later," he said.

Not a question.Not a promise.

A statement.

He stepped past me, already walking, already elsewhere. As he passed, his fingers ruffled my hair—casual, possessive, familiar—like he was grounding himself before violence.

Then he clenched his fist.

I felt it.

That pressure in the air. That suffocating, predatory aura that made the room feel smaller. Like something terrible had just been given permission to exist.

Theo Vinter didn’t slam doors. He didn’t raise his voice. He simply walked away—and death followed later.

"I wonder what it is," I murmured to myself, eyes lingering on the corridor he disappeared into.

Two weeks.

Two weeks inside the Vinter world had taught me more than any system warning ever could.

First—Theo’s brother, whoever he truly was, was forbidden from stepping foot inside Vinter Corporation. Not banned. Not restricted. Erased.

Second—Theo didn’t just hate his brother. He loathed him with a depth so violent it bordered on devotion. The kind of hatred that didn’t scream—it waited. The kind that planned.

Third—Yes. Theo abducted Alina.

But not for power. Not for leverage.

To save her.

From a father who wanted his own daughter dead.

And fourth—The Vinter family conflict wasn’t tragic.

It was routine.

Here, killing each other wasn’t betrayal. It was inheritance. Just another Sunday dressed in blood and suits.

That was the world Theo came from. And slowly—dangerously—I understood something. To form a bond with Theo Vinter, I couldn’t stand on the sidelines.

I had to step into his war.

That was why his casual touch didn’t bother me anymore.

Why his claim—mine—didn’t feel like a cage.

Because this wasn’t romance.

This was alignment. Completing the final episode of this cursed game didn’t require affection. It required commitment. Once I formed a true bond with him—once the system acknowledged it—I would leave this world.

So I wasn’t wasting time.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I knew by memory.

Rowan.

It rang once.

"Did you find out?" I asked the moment he answered.

"Yes, Miss," Rowan’s voice came through, precise and controlled. "Every detail. Nothing left out. Exactly as you requested."

I smiled.

Not soft.

Not kind.

"Good," I said. "You did very well, Rowan."

Silence stretched on the line.

Then—quietly, carefully—"Thank you, Miss."

There was something heavier beneath those words. Acceptance. Resignation. Maybe regret. I didn’t acknowledge it.

I looked out through the glass walls of the office, down at the city that pulsed beneath Vinter Corporation—small, fragile, unaware of the monsters standing above it.

Theo Vinter had just walked away with murder in his hands.

And I?

I was about to walk straight into his past. Because bonds like this weren’t formed with comfort. They were forged with blood, secrets, and shared enemies.

And I was done pretending otherwise.

***

[Evelina’s Chamber — Vinter Mansion — Late Night]

The knock came after midnight.

I didn’t ask who it was.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened soundlessly. Rowan stepped inside, coat still on, hair damp from the night air. In his hands—thick files. Not digital. Paper. The kind you only used when you didn’t trust systems, servers... or people.

He closed the door behind him and stood there for a moment. Then he walked to the table and placed the documents down.

"This is everything," he said quietly. "Everything about Theo Vinter."

I didn’t sit.

I stayed where I was, arms crossed, spine straight. "Talk."

Rowan nodded once.

"Theo Vinter," he began, voice low and steady, "never truly lived with the Vinter family."

My brow twitched.

"He was raised by his grandparents. From early childhood until their deaths. The Vinter estate... was not his home. After his grandparents passed," Rowan continued, "Theo was brought back to the main family. That was when everything changed."

"He was not welcomed."

I felt it then. That familiar pressure in my chest. The quiet dread that comes before truth.

"His elder brother," Rowan said, "—Cassian Vinter—believed Theo was a threat."

Cassian, huh?

"The family assumed Theo would inherit the empire," Rowan went on. "He was intelligent. Ruthless. Calculated. Everything a successor should be. But Cassian couldn’t tolerate that. He bullied Theo. Constantly. Not as children do—but strategically. Isolation. Humiliation. Provocation. Every act designed to break him."

I clenched my jaw.

"Cassian believed Theo had returned to steal what was his."

Rowan’s voice hardened.

"Cassian later married into a prestigious family. A powerful alliance. His wife was well-known. Respected."

A pause.

"And one night," Rowan said, eyes darkening, "she was found dead in her bedroom."

"Dead?" I asked.

"Yes. No witnesses," he continued. "No clear cause. The case was sealed internally. Officially—an accident."

Unofficially...

Rowan didn’t say it. He didn’t need to.

"That was when Theo’s parents realized something," he said. "The elder son would bring ruin to the Vinter family. They feared Cassian actions. Feared his ambition. Feared his lack of restraint."

I stared at the files.

"So they didn’t give the empire to Theo," I murmured.

"No," Rowan replied. "They gave it to someone Cassian could never openly destroy. A one-year-old child."

Alina.

"They signed over the entire Vinter business empire," Rowan said, "to Alina Vinter and made Theo Vinter her guardian."

Silence swallowed the room.

"Cassian believed," Rowan continued, "that the empire would be transferred to Theo as her guardian."

But that didn’t happen either.

"Theo was named protector," Rowan said. "Not heir. Not controller. Protector. And that was when the attempts began."

My nails bit into my palm.

"Cassian couldn’t kill his daughter openly," Rowan explained. "So he tried to give her... a natural death."

My stomach twisted.

"Suffocation during sleep," Rowan said. "Slow poisoning. Contaminated medicine."

I closed my eyes. How can a father...be so cruel?

"Each time," Rowan continued, "the nanny intervened. She saved Alina. Again and again."

A beat.

"Until the nanny died."

Silence.

"Natural causes," Rowan said flatly. "At least, that’s what was recorded. After that...Cassian escalated."

I pictured it without wanting to.

"A child," Rowan said, "learning to hold her breath. Learning not to cry. Learning that sleep was dangerous."

My chest hurt.

"Theo discovered the abuse recently," Rowan continued. "Physical signs. Behavioral changes. Medical discrepancies."

I whispered, "That’s why he abducted her."

"Yes, Miss."

Rowan looked at me directly now. "Theo Vinter did not hesitate. He took Alina and disappeared."

And since then...

"Assassins," Rowan said. "Not random. Not opportunistic. Ordered."

"To kill them both," I murmured.

"Yes."

Theo Vinter.

A man who killed without blinking. Who burned worlds without remorse. But who drew the line at a child being erased by her own father.

Rowan lowered his gaze.

"He is not protecting Alina for power," he said. "He is protecting her because... she is the only innocent thing left in that family."

Silence crushed down.

I stared at the documents, at the life carved into blood and decisions that were never choices.

"...That’s why he never lets her out of sight," I said quietly.

Rowan nodded.

"And that," he added, "is why he will burn the world before letting her die."

The room felt unbearably still. Theo Vinter wasn’t just fighting his brother. He was fighting fate.

I exhaled slowly.

"...You can leave the documents," I said.

Rowan placed the files on the table. Then hesitated.

"Miss," he said quietly, "once you step fully into this... there is no clean exit."

I smiled.

Not softly.

Not kindly.

"I know."

Rowan bowed his head. And when he left, the door closing behind him, I stood alone with the truth.

Theo Vinter wasn’t a villain the creator feared.He was a man born into a family where love was a weapon, children were leverage, and survival meant becoming something monstrous.

And now—The system wanted me to form a bond with him.

Not to save him. But to survive the ending he was headed toward. I looked toward the dark hallway where his room was.

And for the first time, the question wasn’t how do I bond with Theo Vinter?

It was—

How much blood will that bond cost?