Villainess.exe-Chapter 65: Rob his Women

[Cassian Vinter’s POV—Somewhere Beneath the City]

Failure has a smell.

Most people think it smells like blood or smoke.

They’re wrong.

Failure smells like silence.

The kind that lingers after a phone stops ringing. After a message doesn’t arrive. After men who were supposed to report back... simply don’t.

I sat in the dark, fingers steepled, watching the city lights pulse through the one-way glass. Twenty-three floors below, people laughed, drank, and lived.

Above them all—I waited.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The phone vibrated.

Finally.

I answered without lifting it from the table. "Speak."

Silence. Breathing. Shallow. Terrified.

"...Sir."

I smiled.

Not because I was relieved. But because fear had a tone. And this man was soaked in it.

"Why," I asked gently, "do you sound like you’re about to die?"

A swallow. Audible. Pathetic, "T-The team is gone."

Gone. Such a small word for so much incompetence.

"Explain," I said.

"They... they were compromised. Theo—Theo Vinter knew. He—he turned on them. Immediately. No warning."

My fingers tapped once against the glass.

"So," I murmured, "my brother killed them."

"Yes, sir."

"And the girl?"

Another pause.

"...Alive."

Something cracked. Not outwardly.

Inside.

I stood.

Slowly.

The man on the other end started speaking faster, desperate now. "Sir, we had them surrounded. The system—our confirmation—we were certain—"

"Certain?" I repeated softly.

The word tasted amusing.

"I was certain my wife wouldn’t betray me," I continued calmly. "I was certain my parents understood succession. I was certain my daughter would die quietly."

My hand closed around the edge of the table.

Glass creaked.

"Certainty," I said, voice still level, "is the religion of idiots."

The man whimpered.

Good.

"Did you see her?" I asked.

"...W-Who, sir?"

I leaned closer to the glass, my reflection splitting my face in two—one calm, one distorted.

"The woman," I said. "Evelina."

"Yes."

My smile sharpened.

"Was she afraid?"

"...No."

Ah.

I laughed.

Not loudly. Not madly.

Softly.

Genuinely.

Of course she wasn’t. Theo had always had terrible taste in women.

"She stood her ground," the man continued nervously. "She fought. She coordinated with Theo and her bodyguard, Rowan. It was... precise."

Precise.

Interesting.

"So she’s not decoration beside Theo Vinter," I mused. "She’s a blade."

I turned away from the glass, pacing the room slowly.

"You know," I said conversationally, "when Alina was born, they put the entire empire in her name."

The man didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

"One-year-old," I continued. "Drooling. Screaming. And suddenly—everything that was meant for me belonged to her."

I stopped.

"And my brother?" I smiled. "He didn’t hesitate."

My nails dug into my palm. "He didn’t argue. Didn’t question. Didn’t fight."

I turned sharply.

"He stole her."

My voice rose then.

Not shouting.

Vibrating.

"He took my daughter and wrapped himself in righteousness like a saint with a gun." The man on the line sobbed quietly.

I inhaled.

Exhaled.

Calm returned.

"Did Theo look tired?" I asked suddenly.

"...Yes."

That pleased me. "And the child?"

"She... she clung to him."

Something twisted.

Ugly.

"She always did," I muttered. "Even when she screamed."

I pressed my fingers to my temple. Theo Vinter. The mistake my parents underestimated. The brother who didn’t want power—but became it.

And now—now he had something new.

A woman who wasn’t afraid.

A woman who chose him.

That wouldn’t do.

I picked up the phone properly now.

"Listen carefully," I said.

"Yes, sir—!"

"This wasn’t a failed mission," I continued calmly. "This was reconnaissance."

The man froze.

"You learned where he stands," I said. "Who he protects. And more importantly—who he listens to."

"...The woman."

I smiled.

"Yes."

I walked to the desk and opened a drawer. Inside lay photographs.

Theo.

Alina.

Evelina.

One image in particular caught my eye—Evelina standing between gunfire, blood on her hands, eyes clear---A picture from the Casino Party day.

Not a victim.

A catalyst.

"She thinks she’s choosing a side," I murmured. "How charming."

I closed the drawer.

"Prepare Phase Two," I ordered. "No more assassins."

The man gasped. "S-Sir?"

"Assassins fail," I said. "But systems don’t."

I leaned back into my chair.

"Cut their allies. Poison their reputation. Turn their board against them. And most importantly—"

I smiled.

"Touch nothing they can shoot."

Silence.

"And sir... the girl?"

I tilted my head.

"My daughter?" I asked softly.

The word tasted strange.

"No," I corrected myself. "Theo’s weakness."

I laughed again.

"Leave her alive," I said. "For now."

A pause.

"Why?"

Because death is mercy. And I don’t do mercy.

"Because," I replied pleasantly, "I want Theo to watch the world collapse while he’s holding what he loves."

I ended the call.

The room fell quiet again.

But this time—It wasn’t the silence of failure. It was the silence before ruin. Theo Vinter had drawn his line. Evelina Hartgrave had stepped into it.

And I?

I would teach them both the lesson my parents never learned: You don’t win by protecting things. You win by proving that nothing is untouchable.

Including love.

Including children.

Including hope. And when the time comes—I’ll take back everything.

I turned back to the desk.

The city lights reflected faintly on the glass surface, fractured and distorted—like the world seen through broken morals. My hand slid into the drawer again, slower this time.

I didn’t reach for Theo.

I reached for her.

Evelina Hartgrave.

The photograph lay on top now, as if it had always known it would be chosen. She stood in the image with a gun in her hand, blood staining her sleeve, chin lifted—eyes sharp, fearless, alive. Not trembling. Not pleading.

Not breaking.

I stared.

One second.

Two.

Five.

Minutes slipped by unnoticed.

"A woman who isn’t scared..." I murmured.

My lips curved.

Slowly.

Dangerously.

Most women, when faced with power, either worship it or run from it. Evelina Hartgrave did neither. She stood inside it, as if violence was simply another language she’d learned to speak fluently.

Theo listened to her.

That thought settled in my chest like a warm infection. Theo Vinter—my brother—didn’t listen to anyone. He dictated. He decided. He destroyed.

And yet—Her.

He turned his head when she spoke. He moved when she stood. He adjusted when she looked at him a certain way.

I leaned back in my chair, fingers steepled, eyes never leaving her image.

"Interesting," I whispered.

Very interesting.

She wasn’t afraid of him. That was the most dangerous thing of all.

Because fear creates distance.

But courage?

Courage creates intimacy.

I tilted my head slightly, studying the lines of her face, the way her eyes held no hesitation—even in the middle of a massacre.

Theo had found himself a weapon disguised as a woman.

Or perhaps—A woman disguised as a weapon.

I chuckled softly.

"The woman Theo Vinter listens to..." I murmured, tasting the words. "What a beautiful prize to keep beside me."

Not just beside him.

From him.

I imagined it then—slowly, indulgently.

Theo watching as the one person he allowed close was taken from his grasp. Not killed. Not broken.

Turned.

Bent.

Standing beside me instead.

Not screaming.

Not begging.

Choosing.

My smile widened.

"She would look exquisite next to me," I said quietly. "Defiant eyes. Blood on her hands. Loyalty misplaced."

I could already see it.

Theo’s fury. His unraveling. The way his world would tilt off its axis—not because Alina was threatened again...But because Evelina was no longer his.

Because the thing he thought untouchable had been touched.

Claimed.

Rewritten.

I rose from the chair and walked closer to the desk, placing my palm flat over her photograph.

"You don’t know it yet," I murmured to the image, voice almost gentle, "but you’re exactly what I’ve been missing."

Not fear.

Not obedience.

A mirror.

Someone who could stand in the fire and smile. Theo thought he’d found salvation in her.

How adorable.

No.

She wasn’t his salvation. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

She was his lesson.

And lessons—lessons are best learned through loss.

I straightened, eyes cold now, calculations already unfolding like chess moves in my mind.

"Prepare a file," I said to the guard standing beside me. "Not on Theo."

I smiled.

"On Evelina Hartgrave. I want her details: what she’s like, what brands she loves, when she sleeps, what her relationship with her family is...every little detail about her. I want it on my desk."

The guard nodded, saying, "Yes, sir."

And SHUT—he closed the door, leaving me alone.

But I couldn’t believe I found a trump card that can flip all the damn script of Theo’s life. Because If Theo Vinter was the monster who burned the world to protect what was his, then I would be the man who proved that even monsters could be robbed.

And I will Rob...his love interest. Evelina Hartgrave.

And when she finally stands beside me—not because she’s forced. But because she chooses, I’ll let Theo Vinter watch.

Helpless.

As I take the one thing he never thought to guard against.

The woman he listens to.

The woman who isn’t afraid.

The woman who will learn—That nothing is untouchable.

Not even herself.