The Villainess & The Apex: Heisting the System

The death countdown screamed inside my skull. I tilted my glass, letting the dark red wine spill directly over the toe of my white stiletto.

I pointed at the stained leather and ordered the man standing in front of me to get on his knees and lick it clean. If I failed this task, I would die.

The entire room plunged into a dead silence.

Everyone held their breath, fully expecting this onceuntouchable billionaire to snap, choke the life out of me, or hurl me—shoes and all—straight through the penthouse's floortoceiling windows.

Instead, his eyes locked onto mine. A dark, dangerous smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.

Then, under the horrified stares of everyone in the room, he dropped to one knee and lowered his head.

Chapter 1 A cold, mechanical voice bombarded my skull. [2…] [1…] An invisible hand gripped my heart, squeezing until I couldn't breathe. [Eradication sequence initiating…] Fuck!

Don't! I screamed internally. Yet, I forced my facial muscles to hold the arrogant, vicious smirk of a textbook villainess. "Cyrus, what are you waiting for?

Do you need a formal invitation?" I sneered, tapping his jaw lightly with the tip of my shoe—an act of ultimate humiliation. Gasps echoed around the room.

My dear sister, Tiffany—the fake heiress pampered by the family for twenty years—immediately stepped forward, tears welling in her eyes. "Jade, how could you treat Cyrus like this?

Hasn't he suffered enough?" She planted her fragile frame in front of him, acting like a mother hen protecting her chick. Suffered? My ass!

The balance in his bank account could buy out this entire family! You're the pathetic one here, getting played and still thanking him for it.

I scoffed in my head, but outwardly, my lips curled into a wicked sneer. "Move," I commanded. "One more word, and I'll humiliate you too." Tears instantly spilled down Tiffany's cheeks, dropping one by one like pearls.

My socalled father's face turned rigid. He lowered his voice into a furious hiss. "Jade, are you out of your mind! Do you have any idea what you're doing?

You are destroying this family's reputation!

Apologize to him immediately, or you won't see another dime of your trust fund!" My supposed mother pulled Tiffany into her arms, cooing with heartache before shooting me a venomous glare. "Don't cry, sweetheart.

Oh God, we never should have brought this wild brat from the slums back to the Upper East Side." Look at them. These were my "family" members after a year of living together.

In their eyes, I—the biological daughter who had been left on the streets for twenty years—was just a classless, vicious brat who didn't belong.

Meanwhile, Tiffany, the imposter who stole my life, was their one and only precious daughter. [Ding—Family betrayal detected.

Hatred value +10086.] [System task completion under evaluation…] The mechanical voice chimed again. I didn't have time to deal with these blind idiots.

All my attention was locked on the man kneeling before me. Cyrus.

The male lead of this novel—the man who would endure unimaginable humiliation, ultimately return as an untouchable king, reclaim everything, and slice me, the villainess, into a million pieces.

He kept his head raised. His gaze pierced straight past Tiffany's shoulder and landed precisely on my face. There was no humiliation in his eyes. No burning rage.

Just a fleeting shadow of helpless indulgence. It was as if he was silently telling me: Hurry up, I'm ready to go home and eat. Just bear with it a little longer, baby.

Once we pull off this massive stunt, I'll buy you the best massage chair on the market! I frantically sent him signals with my eyes.

The corner of his lips twitched into an almost imperceptible curve. He gently pushed Tiffany out of his way. The movement looked soft, but it carried an undeniable, absolute force.

Tiffany stumbled back, staring at him in disbelief. "Cyrus…" Cyrus didn't even glance at her. He remained focused on that striking red stain on the tip of my stiletto.

Then, under the dead silence of the room, he slowly leaned in. His warm breath brushed against my ankle, sending a violent shiver up my leg. Holy shit, holy shit!

Don't actually lick it! That bastard system never said anything about using tongue! My toes curled tight inside my shoes.

Yet, Cyrus simply buried his face low, using a flawless angle to block everyone else's line of sight. I only felt a scorching heat against the tip of my toe.

Chapter 2 He swiftly wiped the red wine from the tip of my shoe with his long, powerful fingers. Then, he brought the finger stained with dark red liquid to his lips.

His eyes locked dead onto mine as he licked it clean with a wicked, predatory slowness.

The movement was as fast as a phantom, yet slow enough for that stupid, purely visualbased system to capture the act of "licking." [Ding—Task completed!] [Reward: Ten million dollars.

Transferred.] [Eradication sequence deactivated.] The familiar chime of a bank notification echoed in my skull. My suspended heart finally slammed back into my chest. Nailed it!

I fought back the overwhelming urge to grab Cyrus and kiss him senseless. Sticking to my villainess persona, I kicked him away with a look of utter disgust.

Lightly, of course. "Get out of my sight. You're polluting my air." Cyrus played right along, collapsing onto the floor.

His head dropped, shoulders trembling slightly, painting a picture of pathetic misery. Tiffany lunged forward to hold him, her voice cracking. "Cyrus!

Are you okay?" My socalled parents charged over, pointing their fingers at me, their curses escalating. "You animal! You are a complete sociopath!

How could this family ever produce a daughter like you!" The surrounding guests pointed and whispered, their contemptuous glares slicing into me like knives. Keep cursing.

The louder you scream, the better I feel. After all, every single insult that hits my ears is just the beautiful sound of a massive direct deposit.

I let out a cold scoff and flipped them a crisp, immaculate middle finger.

Then, I turned on my tenmilliondollar redbottom stilettos and, amid the collective gasp of the room, strutted out of there like a true queen. I didn't go home.

I headed straight for the "dump" Cyrus and I shared.

A rundown apartment in a highcrime neighborhood with zero security, where the stairwell perpetually reeked of cheap booze and stale cigarettes.

I had specifically rented this place to "torture" him for the system's viewing pleasure. The second I unlocked the door, a massive force yanked me inside.

The door slammed shut with a deafening crack. He pinned me ruthlessly against the heavy wood.

A blistering, punishing kiss crashed down on my lips. "Jesus… are you a damn Rottweiler?" I shoved him back, touching my numb, bruised lips. Cyrus let out a low, dark chuckle.

He rested his forehead against mine, his voice a gravelly rasp. "Felt good kicking me back in that ballroom, didn't it?" I guiltily averted my eyes. "I was just doing it for the mission…" "Hmm?" The end of his word curled upward.

His fingers gripped my jaw, forcing my gaze back to his. "One kick, ten million. Jade, you make money way too easily." He's jealous. The man is jealous.

He's definitely pissed that I'm raking in cash faster than he is. I cleared my throat, adopting an entirely unapologetic tone. "We're partners!

What's mine is yours, right?" Cyrus raised an eyebrow. "Oh?

Must have missed that memo." "Well, consider yourself notified!" I stood on my tiptoes and planted a hard kiss on his lips. "You did great today, VIP. Name your price.

What's your reward?" The dark pools of his eyes deepened.

His long fingers began kneading my waist with a calculated, heavy rhythm. "Reward?" He leaned in, his scalding breath ghosting over my ear. "Let's start with that leg you used to kick me." My face flared with heat.

Damn it, I knew he was up to no good! This Alpha control freak! An hour later. I lay paralyzed on the couch, convinced my legs were no longer attached to my body.

Cyrus, looking refreshed, strolled out of the bathroom holding my phone with a smug grin. "Transfer successful." He waved the glowing screen in my direction.

It displayed a crisp fivemilliondollar outgoing wire transfer. My heart practically bled as the phantom pain of losing that money hit me. Chapter 3 "Cyrus!

You've got to be kidding me! We agreed on a seventythirty split! Why the hell are you taking half?" I deserved the lion's share of that payout!

Cyrus walked over, scooped me smoothly into his arms, and rested his chin on the top of my head. "I sold out my dignity and my face. You just lifted a leg.

Fiftyfifty is more than fair." "Bullshit!

I barely tapped you!" "But I knelt," he murmured, his tone dropping low and dangerous. "Do you have any idea who these knees have bowed to, other than you?" That shut me up instantly.

Played by him again.

I thought back to when I first transmigrated into this ridiculous book and got chained to this parasitic system that threatened to kill me if I didn't complete its tasks.

The very first mission was to track down Cyrus in a foreclosed, halfbuilt concrete shell after his family supposedly went bankrupt, find him living on the streets, and brutally humiliate him.

I had shown up terrified, only to discover this ruthless apex predator wasn't broke at all.

The whole "fallen billionaire" routine was a masterfully orchestrated front to smoke out the moles in his corporate empire. And worse, he had already awakened.

He knew perfectly well he was the male lead in a fictional universe. Us two "awakened" anomalies just stared at each other.

Finally, under the looming threat of the system's eradication sequence, we hammered out a highly lucrative partnership.

I played the vicious villainess, and he played the humiliated, broken victim.

Together, we aggressively milked the system for every last dollar it had. "What's going through that head of yours?" Cyrus pinched my cheek, pulling me back to the present. "Just wondering… when we'll finally be able to nuke this trash system," I sighed. "Putting on a show every single day is exhausting, okay?

Especially when dealing with those absolute psychos in my socalled family." Cyrus let out a low chuckle. "Soon." He fished a sleek flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to me. "What is this?" "Ironclad proof of Richard's company being involved in transnational money laundering and forged financial statements." Cyrus delivered the news with the same casual tone someone might use to discuss the weather. "And the bank statements showing Tiffany embezzling corporate funds to fund her luxury shopping sprees over the years." My eyes lit up.

I bolted upright. "Holy shit! Where did you get this?" "Did you forget what I do?" It hit me then.

Before his fake bankruptcy, Cyrus wasn't just a corporate shark; he was one of the most lethal hackers operating in the shadows of the tech world.

Pulling this kind of dirt was child's play for him.

Thrilled, I clutched the flash drive and kissed it. "You are incredible!" Cyrus narrowed his eyes, tracking the movement with a dangerous glint. "You kiss a piece of plastic, but not me?" I immediately leaned in and planted a massive, exaggerated kiss on his cheek. "You're the best!

Number one apex predator in the world!" A satisfied smirk curved his lips as he pulled me firmly back against his chest.

The icy mechanical voice rang out in my skull again. [Ding—New task issued.] [Task scenario: Torrential rainstorm.] [Task objective: Kick Cyrus out of the apartment with a 104degree fever and force him to stand in the rain all night.] [Reward: Thirty million dollars.] [Penalty: One hour of electric shock.] I stared blankly at the wall.

Cyrus stared blankly right beside me. We exchanged a look, speechless. Thirty million? This garbage system is really bleeding out its capital for this one.

I rubbed my chin, sizing Cyrus up. "We doing this?" Cyrus grabbed his phone and checked the weather app. "Severe thunderstorms tomorrow." He paused, lifting his gaze to meet mine.

A dark, calculated fire burned in his eyes. "We're doing it.

However…" His tone smoothly shifted gears. "I want seventy percent this time." What the fuck? "Cyrus, don't push your luck! It's just standing in the rain!

You're really trying to jack up the price right now?" Chapter 4 "A 104degree fever, plus standing in the rain all night," he dragged out his words with a lazy drawl. "That falls under hazard pay.

I need a raise." I stared at him. Fine, you ruthless bastard. The next day, the sky hung low and bruised, practically threatening a torrential downpour.

Cyrus, committed to the bit, genuinely fell "ill." I spent half the day pressing hot towels to his forehead. His skin radiated heat, a sick flush painting his sharp cheekbones.

The thermometer locked in exactly at 104 degrees. Give this man an Oscar. The dedication to his craft is insane. I carefully fed him water while running the numbers in my head.

Thirty million. Even giving up seventy percent, I'd still walk away with a crisp nine million.

Not bad at all. "Cough…" Cyrus let out two weak, rattling coughs, his voice a raspy whisper. "Jade… I feel awful." The corners of his eyes were rimmed with red.

He looked up at me with glassy, damp eyes, looking exactly like a massive, abandoned golden retriever. My heart practically melted on the spot. Don't worry, baby.

I'll toss you out as gently as humanly possible. I promise you won't even get a scratch. I smoothed his hair back, murmuring softly, "Be a good boy.

Just hold on a little longer." By nightfall, galeforce winds whipped against the building. Massive drops of rain hammered the glass in a chaotic rhythm. It was time.

I took a deep breath, letting the villainess persona bleed into my veins. I hurled my glass onto the floor. It shattered with an earpiercing crack. "Cyrus!

Stop playing dead!" I ripped the blankets off the bed and roughly grabbed his collar, hauling him up. "Sick? Then take your virus and get the hell out of my apartment!

This isn't some free homeless shelter!" Cyrus stumbled weakly as I dragged him toward the door.

He threw a "frail" hand onto the doorframe, gasping for air as he begged, "Jade, it's pouring outside… I feel like I'm dying… Please, don't kick me out…" A thick sob choked his voice, making my chest tighten.

Keep acting. Seriously, Hollywood is robbing you blind. Maintaining my stonecold facade, I peeled his fingers off the frame. One by one. "Begging me?

What gives you the right to beg me?" I sneered. "Right now, you're nothing but a dog I keep on a leash!

When I tell you to get out, you get out!" With that, I shoved him out the door with everything I had. Slam! I threw my weight against the heavy door, shutting it tight.

The world finally fell quiet. [Ding—Phase one of the task completed.] [Host must maintain the villainous persona and ensure the target remains in the rain all night.] I leaned against the door, listening to Cyrus pound on the wood with "desperate" thuds and let out "agonizing" wails.

Dude, wrap it up. The neighbors are going to call the cops. I pulled out my phone and fired off an iMessage. [Me: Head down to the underground garage.

There are clean clothes, cold meds, and latenight takeout waiting in the RollsRoyce.] [Cyrus: Copy that.] [Me: Make sure you turn on the heater and dry your clothes.

Don't actually catch a cold.] [Cyrus: Got it, bossy.] I tossed my phone onto the counter and headed straight for the shower in a fantastic mood.

An hour of electrocution sounded terrifying. Milking the system for cash was infinitely better.

But the second I stepped out of the steaming bathroom, the doorbell started ringing frantically. I furrowed my brow. Who the hell is that? Leaning in, I peered through the peephole.

It was Tiffany, flanking Richard and my socalled mother.

The three of them were soaked to the bone, dripping wet like drowned rats, standing outside my door with their jaws set and eyes glaring.

Tiffany's screech pierced through the wood. "Jade! Open this door! I know you're in there!

How could you treat Cyrus like that!" Richard immediately joined in, slamming his fist against the wood. "Open the door! You ungrateful bitch!

We are going to teach you a lesson tonight!" Chapter 5 I stared blankly. Did these psychos install a GPS tracker on him? How do they always show up right on cue?

I couldn't be bothered with them. I spun around, ready to head back to my bedroom. The system's blaring warning siren went off in my head. [WARNING! WARNING!

Key plot characters detected!] [Host must open the door immediately and humiliate the male lead in front of them to solidify the villainous persona!] [Failure will trigger double penalty!] I stopped dead in my tracks.

Double penalty? Two hours of electrocution? Fuck. I resigned myself to my fate, marched back, and yanked the door wide open.

Outside, Tiffany had her mouth open, gearing up for another screeching match. She froze when she saw me.

Then, her eagle eyes locked onto Cyrus, who was collapsed against the wall in the stairwell. He was drenched to the bone. Freezing rain dripped from his dark hair.

His face was ghastly pale, and his lips had taken on a terrifying shade of blue. He looked like he was going to flatline right there on the concrete. Dedicated. Way too dedicated.

The man absolutely earned his seventy percent cut. Tiffany's tears broke the dam once again. She threw herself at him, her voice hitting a hysterical pitch. "Cyrus!

Cyrus, what happened to you!" Richard and my mother rushed over, hands trembling as they checked his breathing and felt his forehead. "He's burning up!

He's burning up!" my mother gasped, her hands shaking. "Jade!

You are an absolute sociopath with zero empathy!" Richard pointed a trembling finger at me, a thick vein bulging in his neck. "If he dies out here tonight, the cops will slap handcuffs on you and throw you straight into prison!" I crossed my arms, coldly watching their little theatrical performance. "Oh?

Prison?" I let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "I don't give a shit if he lives or dies.

Honestly, I wish he'd just drop dead and get it over with." Without missing a beat, I grabbed the heavy bucket of cold water I kept by the shoe rack for my plants. Splash.

I didn't hesitate for a fraction of a second. I hurled the entire bucket of icecold water directly onto Cyrus and the three idiots crowding him.

The stairwell plunged into a dead silence. "Ahhh!" Tiffany clamped her hands over her ears and let out a raw scream.

Her precious, limitededition white sundress was now plastered wetly to her body, stained with the filthy stairwell grime. She looked like an absolute wreck.

Richard and my mother froze. They wiped the freezing water from their faces and stared at me in disbelief. Like they were looking at a total psychopath. Right. I'm a psychopath.

Driven insane by you absolute morons. I tossed the plastic bucket aside.

It hit the concrete with a loud, hollow crack. "What the hell are you screaming for?" I snapped. "Are you holding a funeral outside my apartment in the middle of the night?

If you want to cry, take it down the block. Stop polluting my hallway!" My voice wasn't loud, but every word slammed into them like an ice pick.

Tiffany shook with rage, pointing at me. "Jade!

You… you're completely unhinged!" "I'm unhinged?" I looked at her like she had just told the funniest joke of the century. "The three of you run to my apartment in the dead of night, barking orders at me about my boyfriend's life choices, and I'm the one who's unhinged?" "He is your boyfriend!

You should treat him properly!" my mother spat back. "How I treat him is my damn business." I sneered, raking my gaze over the three of them. "Who do you think you are? His dad?

His mom? Some longlost relatives?" "I…" They choked on their words, silenced. I walked down the short flight of stairs, step by step.

My heels clicked sharply against the raw concrete. Clack. Clack. Clack. It sounded like I was stomping directly on their fragile nerves.

I stopped right in front of Cyrus, crouched down, and gripped his jaw, forcing his head up.

Chapter 6 The freezing water drained the last bit of color from his face, leaving only a faint trace of red on his lips. He looked up at me.

His eyes were "weak" and "helpless," droplets of water clinging to his long eyelashes. A tragic masterpiece. Keep acting.

Seriously, the tortured indiefilmlead vibe is completely wasted here. I didn't break character. I twisted the knife deeper. "See that, Cyrus? There's your precious little sister.

Your wonderful aunt and uncle. What can they actually do besides cry, scream, and point fingers at me? Can they hire you a doctor?

Can they pay your medical bills?" I paused, leaning in until my lips were right next to his ear.

I dropped my voice to a whisper meant only for him. "Can they give you thirty million dollars?" The muscles in Cyrus's back went completely rigid for a fraction of a second.

Then, a broken, threadlike breath slipped past his lips as he played right along. "Jade… stop talking…" "Why should I?" I straightened up, looking down at him and the three absolute idiots hovering behind him. "You actually think they're here to save you?

Don't be naive. They're just using your misery to show off how kind and noble they are. Look at Tiffany crying her eyes out.

If I didn't know any better, I'd think her parents just dropped dead." Tiffany's face drained of color. "And you two." I shifted my gaze to my socalled parents. "Instead of wasting your night crying over someone else's boyfriend, you should go home and worry about your own company.

I heard the IRS has been keeping a very close eye on the offshore accounts of shell companies like yours lately." The color drained from Richard's face. "How… how do you know that?" "How I know doesn't matter." I smiled. "What matters is, if you don't get the hell out of my hallway right now, your tax fraud won't be the only thing hitting the morning news." I pulled out my phone and tapped play on a video.

The screen lit up.

In the video, it was Tiffany going on a crazy shopping spree for limitededition Birkins on Rodeo Drive, maxing out the company's black card without a care in the world.

Time, location, and the exact dollar amount—all clearly stamped on the screen.

Tiffany looked like she had just seen a ghost. "You… you investigated me?" "What did you expect?" I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "Did you think I was just collecting souvenirs?" The three of them stood there, paralyzed.

They probably never imagined that the submissive, punchingbag country girl they walked all over was actually holding a loaded gun to their heads.

I took a moment to enjoy the way their eyes darted and shoulders stiffened.

Then, I slowly shifted my gaze back to the "unconscious" Cyrus. "As for him…" I raised my foot and nudged his arm with the tip of my heel. "He's not going to die.

And even if he does, I'll dig the hole myself.

You don't need to worry about it." I practically roared the words. "Now, get out." Terrified by my unhinged display, the three of them scrambled out of the stairwell like their lives depended on it.

The hallway finally fell dead silent, leaving only Cyrus, me, and a massive puddle of freezing water on the concrete. [Ding—Unexpected event resolved.] [Villainous persona successfully solidified.] [Task continues.] I let out a long breath, crouched down, and patted Cyrus on the cheek. "Hey, VIP, cut the act.

They're gone." Cyrus slowly opened his eyes. There wasn't a single trace of weakness left in them. They were sharp, dark, and predatory.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me flush against his wet chest. "Jade." His voice dropped into a gravelly, pitiful hum. "I'm freezing." I stared at him.

You entirely brought this on yourself, you lunatic! Chapter 7 I dragged Cyrus back inside, shoved him into the bathroom, and ordered him to take a hot shower.

Meanwhile, I suffered through the absolute misery of mopping up the freezing, muddy disaster I'd made in the hallway.

By the time I dragged my exhausted body back into the living room, Cyrus had already changed into clean loungewear.

He was sitting on the couch, casually sipping the hot ginger tea I'd brewed for him.

Seeing me walk in, he crooked a finger in my direction. "Come here." I marched over, out of patience. "What?" He grabbed my waist, pulled me smoothly onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around me from behind.

Grabbing the hairdryer, he started running his fingers through my damp hair. The warm air felt incredible against my scalp. My razorthin nerves finally started to unwind.

I leaned back into his solid chest, too lazy to move a single muscle. "Earlier… thank you." Cyrus's voice rumbled against the top of my head, low and muffled. "Thank me for what?" "For taking my side.

For getting even." I let out a sharp scoff. "Don't flatter yourself. I did that entirely for my own sanity. I hate them.

Just looking at their faces pisses me off." Cyrus didn't say a word, but his fingers massaged my scalp with an even gentler rhythm.

Once my hair was dry, he clicked off the dryer and rested his chin heavily on my shoulder. "What's your plan for Richard and the rest of them?" "What do you mean, what's my plan?" I examined my fresh manicure with absolute indifference. "That evidence you handed me is more than enough to lock Richard in a maximumsecurity federal prison for the rest of his miserable life.

As for Tiffany, the trust fund fraud paired with massive corporate embezzlement is enough to ensure she spends the rest of her days rotting in a cell." "You're planning to send them all to prison?" "What else am I supposed to do?

Keep them around as pets?" I rolled my eyes. "You know exactly how they treated me.

I'm not some bleedingheart saint." Cyrus let out a low, dark chuckle and pressed a hot kiss to the side of my neck. "I know. My Jade always collects her debts.

I love that." The heat crept up my neck. I shoved at his chest. "Alright, alright, enough with the sweet talk. We need to sleep.

We've got a massive battle tomorrow." According to the system's strict requirements, Cyrus had to be left "standing in the rain" all night long.

Even though he could sleep comfortably in his car, he had to emerge the next morning looking like he had survived a literal hurricane.

That was entirely going to depend on his acting skills.

Cyrus refused to let go, clinging to me like a massive, overgrown cat. "Jade, don't you think my workplace injury tonight requires a little extra… compensation?" I eyed him with immediate suspicion. "Thirty million, and you're taking a seventy percent cut.

That's not enough?" He shook his head slowly. The dark pools of his eyes burned with a dangerous heat. "Business is business.

Compensation is compensation." He leaned in, his breath scalding my earlobe. "Tonight, I'm on top." I stared at him. I fucking knew it!

This opportunistic, absolute Alpha control freak