Ascension Of The Villain

"So, you came back negotiating?" Clyde asked with his arms crossed, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated display of skepticism.

"No, Clyde. I am telling you, I didn't negotiate. I just didn't want to take in Sina after finding out she is not the marquess's real daughter," Vyan said, feigning shock that he had to explain himself yet again.

"But wasn't that one of the key points of this revge saga? To make Sina pay for harassing you for all those times?" Clyde's tone was dripping with sarcasm.

"Please, who cares about her?" Vyan rolled his eyes. "She never ev got close to me thanks to Iyana's constant interferce. Plus, Sina is too dumb and obnoxious to be a slave. Can you imagine her trying to take orders? Laughable."

Clyde shook his head in disbelief. "You know, I am still dying to know who her real father is, though. She is not adopted, that is a giv. Nobles treat adoption like it's a contagious disease."

Vyan waved his hand dismissively. "Maybe she is Marquess's second wife's kid from a previous marriage or fling or something like that."

Clyde clutched his head dramatically. "Wait, let me process that."

Vyan laughed. "Seriously, don't waste your brain cells. Who her father is doesn't matter. What matters is I get to torture that jerk Lyon. That's the real prize here."

"And watching Lady Iyana's pride crumble wh she realizes she is too late to save her precious family from you," Clyde added.

"Exactly!" Vyan's grin stretched ear to ear, practically radiating glee.

"Ah, revge really is sweet. It's like the best dessert after a gourmet meal." He clapped his hands together, the sound echoing like the final nail in a coffin.

Clyde chuckled, clearly joying Vyan's thusiasm. "Want to celebrate this milestone with some champagne, my devious frid?"

"Do you ev have to ask?" Vyan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I want the finest champagne Bedict has in stock. Let's toast to sweet, sweet revge!"

———

Vyan stirred on the plush office couch, his sses slowly coming back online.

The first thing he noticed was the luxurious feel of the velvet cushions against his cheek. It was a stark contrast to the dull throb in his temples—a champagne-induced hangover, no doubt.

He cracked one eye op, greeted by the dim light filtering through the heavy drapes.

His office that was usually a bastion of order and control now looked like a battlefield with empty champagne bottles stood like fall soldiers on the tea table.

Groaning, Vyan pushed himself up to a sitting position, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Well, at least the couch is still as comfortable as ever," he muttered to himself, his voice raspy.

The silce in the room was profound. It was no surprise that Clyde was gone already. After all, Clyde had a habit of greeting the dawn with a vigor Vyan couldn't quite fathom.

Vyan swung his legs over the side of the couch, his feet meeting the cool floor with a reluctant thud. "Guess I am on my own for this recovery mission," he said to the empty room.

"Ugh, I have to get to training on time too. What time is it exactly?" Vyan groaned, squinting at the sunlight streaming through the window.

He buried his face in his palms, his head throbbing.

A shadow fell over him, and he peeked through his fingers to find Iyana standing before him, her expression a mix of amusemt and concern.

"Have you abandoned all courtesy and forgott how to knock?" he grumbled, his voice muffled.

"I did knock," she retorted, hands on her hips. "Several times, in fact. Th, you mumbled something that sounded like an invitation, so here I am."

Vyan exhaled dramatically and looked up at her. "To what do I owe this delightful intrusion?"

"I—" she began, th her eyes caught sight of his hand. "Your Grace, how did you cut your hand?"

"Huh? What are you talking about—" He glanced down and saw the cut on his palm. "Oh, this…" He recalled Edward smashing a vase last night. A shard must have hit him. "I honestly don't remember."

Iyana shook her head, clearly not taking this lightly. "Is there a first aid kit here?"

"It's fine. I will just use some healing water later—"

"Later, schmater. You need a bandage now. So, where is the kit?"

Vyan sighed in defeat, gesturing to a nearby cabinet. "In there."

Iyana marched over and retrieved the kit. Kneeling in front of him, she gtly took his hand.

"You must have gott this last night," she muttered, cleaning the dried blood with a cotton pad.

Vyan watched her, his heart unexpectedly skipping a beat. Her eyes were so focused on doing her job, every touch of hers soft and caring.

"Why…" he trailed off.

"Why do I think you got this last night?" She raised an eyebrow, still focused on the wound. "Because the blood is dried, however, it hasn't started healing—"

"No, I mean, why are you being so nice to me?" he blurted out.

She had already revealed her true nature to him wh she framed him, so why was she bothering with this facade now? Why was she acting like she had during those four long years?

She had no reason to act nice anymore.

"Because you have be such a gracious host," Iyana replied in a soft voice, her eyes downcast. "Despite your clear disdain for me, you made sure my stay here was as comfortable as possible."

"Really, that's it?"

She paused, looking up at him with a soft smile. "Also, I guess I am starting to believe that beath all that bravado and scheming, I think there is still a dect person worth helping."

His breath caught, the room suddly feeling smaller. "You think there is a dect person still remaining in me?"

"I do," she replied, her eyes meeting his with an intsity that made his pulse quick.

That's only half the reason though, Iyana thought, her lips trembling with guilt.

Honestly, I feel terrible that I am going to expose you today. But I have no choice. I have to protect my family.

She didn't understand why she felt this way about him. She had always be heartless towards her emies. So why did she feel bad for this guy in particular? She had no idea.

"Oh, I see," Vyan murmured, his eyes lingering on her delicate hand as she wrapped the bandage a his wound.

Her touch—as much as he hated to admit it—was comforting.

"There, all done," she said with a satisfied smile as she stood up. "Don't forget to dip it in healing water later."

"Okay, I will. Thanks."

"You are welcome, Your Grace."

Vyan stared at the neatly draped bandage and looked up at her. "What did you come here for again?"

"Oh!" She snapped her fingers as she remembered. "I need to go to my parts' home for a few days due to some emergcy business. And…"

Her chest twisted with guilt as she lied, "Wh I come back, we can go capture the monsters together for the festival."

"Alright."

"So, I will be off th." With that, she turned a, feeling bittersweet for some strange reason.

Little did she know that the bittersweet feeling for him would soon turn into blinding rage.

"What the hell do you mean you accepted His Grace's offer?!" Iyana's voice reverberated through the room, laced with fury and disbelief as she confronted her father. "I told you to give me some time! I could have prov your and Lyon's innocce!"

"Ev if you did, where would I have gott the money to pay him back the original amount?!" Edward shouted back.

"I would have giv you the money if you couldn't manage it! Don't you know I have my own earnings? Why on earth did you take his offer and sell off Lyon like that?" she retorted, her voice rising with each word.

The room fell silt as Edward became speechless, unable to meet her gaze.

"You should have trusted me, Father! But no! You didn't! You couldn't ev wait until the day of the deadline and took his offer," she seethed, her breath coming in angry huffs.

She glanced down at the recorder artifact in her hand—a symbol of her efforts and shattered hopes. She worked so hard to gather the proof, only for her family to disappoint her like this.

"I guess there is no point to this anymore since you have already paid back the count," she spat, smashing the artifact on the g.

"Iyana, please, dear, list," Edward tried to coax her, his voice softing.

"Leave it, Father. I have more important business to deal with," she cut him off, her tone icy.

As she turned on her heels, her face was a mask of seething anger.

That bastard. How dare he trap me with that faux conversation betwe Bedict and that maid?

It had be too convit, stumbling upon that particular conversation after getting nothing for t days. Vyan had orchestrated the tire thing.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks; she had be a fool to trust him—to think he had some deccy within him.

But turns out, he was a devil through and through.

To think I ev felt bad for that bastard… He totally played me! I swear the next time I see him, I will fucking punch him.

And that's exactly what she did.

She stormed into his manor and burst into his office.

"Oh, Iyana—" Vyan began, but he didn't get the chance to finish.

Her fist connected with his face, sding him stumbling backward against his desk.

Without giving him a momt to recover, she followed up with a dagger to his neck.

"You lying scoundrel, how dare you fool me like that?" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage.