Villainess.exe-Chapter 62: The Real Villain

[Evelina’s POV—Vinter Mansion—The Night After the Truth]

Sleep didn’t come.

It hovered.

Close enough to feel, distant enough to deny.

I lay awake on the edge of the bed, the documents Rowan brought spread across my mind like an autopsy report. Names. Dates. Decisions made by people who never planned to take responsibility for the blood that followed.

Cassian Vinter.

A father who hunted his own child. A brother who turned inheritance into a death sentence.

A family where love was leverage and children were collateral. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

And Theo Vinter—the man who stepped into hell and decided to stay there so Alina wouldn’t have to.

I closed my eyes.

So this is the man the creator deleted.

Not because he was weak.

Not because he was unlikable.

But because his existence broke the rules.

Theo Vinter didn’t fit the neat narrative of romance routes and safe affection points. He didn’t love to win. He loved to end things. He didn’t protect because it was noble—he protected because letting go meant death.

And that was exactly why the creator panicked.

This game was meant to be fluffy. Safe. A neatly wrapped love story with affection meters, blushing confessions, and predictable endings. Theo Vinter walked in and tore every rule apart with blood on his hands and a child on his back.

"So now..." I murmured into the quiet room, staring at the dark window, "What am I supposed to do?"

Right on cue—

DING!!!!!

The sound cut through the air like a blade.

A familiar blue screen bloomed before my eyes, sharp and intrusive after days of silence.

[System Notification: UPCOMING EVENT UNLOCKED] Event Title: Theo Vinter’s Parents’ Death Ceremony. Objective: Meet Cassian Vinter. Warning: High-risk interaction detected. System Note: Cassian Vinter is preparing his next dangerous move. Bonus: Teleportation spell available during event]

I stared at the words.

Cassian Vinter’s next dangerous move.

My fingers curled slowly.

"So something is going to happen," I whispered. "You never show up unless blood is scheduled."

The system didn’t respond.

Typical.

I exhaled, rubbing my temple. A funeral. Media. A public stage. A man who tried to murder his own child—and another who would burn the world to stop him.

Perfect conditions for disaster.

Then—

Knock. Knock.

I looked up.

Before I could answer, the door opened. Theo leaned against the frame, smug as sin, eyes bright with that familiar, infuriating confidence.

"Babe," he drawled, gaze flicking lazily over me, "are you changing?"

I stared at him.

Dumbfounded.

"...Are you serious right now?" I asked slowly.

His smile widened.

I opened my mouth. "Are you a—"

"Of course not," he cut in smoothly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I’m here to inform you of something. Very important."

I crossed my arms. "Then talk. Preferably before I throw something at you."

He chuckled and leaned more comfortably against the door, entirely too relaxed. "I want you to accompany us tomorrow."

"To where?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"The graveyard," he said casually.

Ah.

So that’s the event.

"For what reason?" I asked anyway.

"My parents’ death anniversary," he replied, voice flat—but not wounded. "Unfortunately, the company insists I perform public mourning. Appearances, respect, hypocrisy. You know."

I studied him carefully.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t soften.

Didn’t pretend.

He didn’t love them. And they didn’t deserve to be mourned.

"Alright," I said after a beat. "I don’t mind."

His brow lifted slightly. "That easy?"

"I’ll come as your colleague," I added calmly. "No unnecessary rumors."

Theo’s lips curved into a satisfied smile. "Good. That makes things simpler."

"Does it?" I asked quietly.

He met my gaze.

"For me?" he said. "Yes."

That answer sent a chill down my spine.

"Thanks, babe," he added lightly, already turning away. "I’ll see you tomorrow."

I nodded once.

THUD.

The door closed behind him. The room fell silent again—but not peaceful.

A funeral.

A monster.

A system warning.

And a man who had already decided how the story would end.

I stared at the empty air where the system had vanished.

Cassian Vinter.

Your move, then. Because something told me tomorrow wouldn’t be about the dead.

It would be about who was next.

***

[Vinter Mansion—The Next Day | Funeral Event]

Morning arrived dressed in black.

Not the soft, respectful kind of black—but the sharp, tailored kind that meant control. The kind worn to remind the world who still stood after the graves were filled.

The Vinter mansion was awake long before the sun finished rising.

Security doubled.

Cars lined the gates.

Men in black moved with quiet precision, earpieces murmuring threats that never reached my ears.

This wasn’t a funeral.

It was a display.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the dark coat Theo’s people had prepared for me. Simple. Elegant. No jewelry except a thin ring—unmarked, unclaimed.

Neutral.

Or so I thought.

The door opened without knocking. Theo stepped in, already dressed in black from head to toe. Long coat. Gloves. The kind of presence that turned mourning into territory.

His eyes flicked to me—and paused.

Not hungry.

Not amused.

Focused.

"You look..." he searched for the word, then smirked faintly, "...dangerous."

"I was going for appropriate," I replied dryly.

He walked closer, stopping just short of touching me. "You’ll do. Stay close today."

"That sounds like an order."

"It is."

I exhaled through my nose. "Of course it is."

His smile sharpened—not playful now, not teasing. Calculating.

"There are two things you need to know before we go to the funeral, babe," he said.

I lifted an eyebrow. "I’m listening."

"One," he said, voice lowering, "once the media leaves—do not leave my side. Not for a second. Not to breathe. Not to think."

"That serious?" I asked.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he reached inside his coat. And pulled out a gun. Sleek. Compact. Heavy enough that the moment he placed it in my hand, I felt the weight—not just of metal, but of intention.

"Second," Theo continued calmly, as if he’d just handed me a pen, "keep this with you."

Rowan stiffened behind me.

"A gun?" Rowan asked sharply, eyes locked on the weapon. "Is there a threat at the graveyard, Mr. Vinter?"

Theo glanced at him sideways, golden eyes unreadable.

"Threat?" he repeated softly. Then he smiled. Not kindly. Not reassuring.

"No."

He leaned slightly toward Rowan, his voice almost conversational. "There’s just a mad person coming."

A pause.

"And you know what mad people do," Theo added. "They go crazy over very small things."

The air went cold. I looked down at the gun in my hand, then back at Theo. "You’re really selling the funeral experience."

"If I wasn’t serious," he replied, "you wouldn’t be holding that."

I slid the gun inside my coat without another word. "Alright. If you say so."

His smile returned—slow, satisfied. Like a man who’d just confirmed a piece on the board.

Theo straightened and turned sharply to his guards. "Strengthen the perimeter around Alina," he ordered. "No gaps. No assumptions. If anyone breathes wrong near her, remove them."

"Yes, sir."

The men moved instantly, voices low, hands already on weapons.

Then—"I’m ready!"

Small footsteps echoed down the hall. Alina came dashing out of her room, dressed in a black coat too neat for a child, hair tied back, eyes bright and unaware of how close the world hovered to violence.

Theo’s expression shifted the moment he saw her.

Not softer.

Focused.

He crouched just long enough to scoop her up, settling her against his chest like she belonged there—like that was the only place she ever should have been.

"Alright," he said, brushing a hand over her hair. "We’re leaving."

Alina nodded seriously. "I won’t let go."

"I know," he replied.

I watched them for a second longer than necessary.

Then I moved. We followed Theo down the corridor, guards falling into formation around us, the mansion doors opening wide like a mouth swallowing its own breath.

The cars waited.

The graveyard waited.

And somewhere out there—so did Cassian Vinter.

I tightened my grip inside my coat, fingers brushing cold metal.

So this is it, I thought.

Not a funeral.

Not mourning.

A stage.

And I was about to meet the villain in Theo Vinter’s life—the one mad enough to challenge a man who had already burned the world once and survived.

***

[Graveyard —Later]

The graveyard was already awake when we arrived. Rows of black umbrellas dotted the misty grounds like silent sentinels. Marble headstones gleamed under the pale sky, names carved deep enough to survive centuries—just like grudges.

The moment Theo stepped out of the car, the air changed.

Cameras clicked.

Shutters screamed.

Flashes burst like gunfire.

"Mr. Vinter—look here!"

"Chairman Theo—just one statement!"

"How does it feel returning after so long?"

Theo didn’t slow.

Didn’t answer.

He walked forward with Alina in his arms, his spine straight, his face carved from ice. I followed half a step behind him, exactly where he’d told me to stay. Guards fanned out instantly, forming a moving wall of black suits and cold intent.

The media ate it up.

The tragic heir.

The orphaned child.

The grieving family.

They didn’t see the truth.

They never did.

Theo stopped before the graves.

Two headstones. Side by side. Names I didn’t bother to read. He lowered Alina carefully to the ground. She held his coat with both hands, knuckles pale.

"Stay here," he murmured quietly.

"I will," she whispered back.

The cameras went wild.

Flash.Click.Flash.

Theo bowed his head just enough to satisfy tradition. Just enough to sell the image. I watched his shoulders—not slumped, not heavy.

Not grieving.

Waiting.

Then—The air split.

Not with sound.

With presence.

Every guard stiffened at once. Theo’s jaw tightened.

And Alina—Alina flinched.

Hard.

Her small body jerked like she’d been struck, and she lunged forward, burying herself against Theo’s chest with a sharp, frightened gasp.

"Uncle—!"

Theo caught her instantly, one arm wrapping around her like a shield forged from bone and fury. His hand cradled the back of her head, pressing her face into him.

"It’s alright," he said softly. Too softly. "I’ve got you."

I turned.

And saw him.

Cassian Vinter.

He stepped out from between two black vehicles like a shadow peeling itself free. Tall. Immaculate. Dressed in mourning black that looked rehearsed, perfected. His smile was thin, measured—polite in the way predators were polite right before striking.

But it wasn’t the smile that froze the blood.

It was the eyes.

Sharp. Curious. Amused.

They landed on Theo first. Then slid to Alina.

And lingered.

Something inside me went cold.

Cassian tilted his head slightly, as if admiring a painting he’d once owned.

"Well," he said mildly, his voice carrying just enough to cut through the murmurs, "isn’t this... touching."

Theo didn’t turn fully.

Didn’t move.

But the air around him dropped ten degrees. Alina’s grip tightened, her fingers digging into his coat as if she could disappear inside him if she tried hard enough.

Theo’s hand tightened at her back.

A warning.

Not to her.

To Cassian.

I felt it then—clear and undeniable.

This wasn’t a family reunion.

This wasn’t grief.

This was a battlefield disguised as marble and flowers.

Cassian smiled wider, eyes gleaming with something ugly and delighted. And I understood—This man wasn’t here to mourn the dead.

He was here to test whether Theo Vinter would finally lose control. And judging by the way Theo’s body had gone utterly still, utterly lethal—Someone was going to regret stepping into this graveyard.

The cameras kept flashing.

The world kept watching.

And right there, between the dead and the living, between a child shaking in fear and a man built for war—The real funeral was about to begin.