Villainess Retreats, Billionaire Begs

A line of blinding text suddenly slashed across the empty air right in front of me: [ Still kissing him? Can't you see he's so disgusted he's about to throw up? ] I froze.

My fingers were still tightly gripping my boyfriend's dress shirt.

The glowing comments kept scrolling in a frantic blur: [ The little sister of his perfect first love is parachuting into the executive suite tomorrow.

The second tomorrow hits, he is absolutely dumping your highmaintenance, toxic ass! ] I instantly let go. Blankfaced, I peeled myself away from his burning hot chest.

The next second. A large hand clamped around my wrist. The grip was bonecrushing. I snapped my head down, stunned.

The billionaire who supposedly felt sick to his stomach every time he touched me was now staring at me with the eyes of a predator.

The corners of his eyes were flushed a deep, dangerous red. His chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths. "Had your fill already?" Chapter 1 I wet my lips.

After a heavy beat of silence, I stammered, "I'm… I'm good." The words left my mouth, but my eyes betrayed me, drifting right back to his halfopen robe.

Faint scratch marks stood out starkly against his defined abs. Evidence of me being an absolute menace just moments ago. Alistair's dark gaze locked onto me. "Let's go again.

Don't wake up regretting it in the middle of the night." A deep, telltale flush still crawled up his neck and tipped his ears. Guilt prickled the back of my neck.

I looked away. "Never mind. I'm tired." I didn't think he'd actually catch me getting handsy while he was asleep. So why the hell was he faking it? My arms were sore for nothing.

Did he really hate my touch that much? Alistair's jaw ticked. He narrowed his eyes, studying my face for two solid seconds.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he pushed off the bed in silence and headed to the master bathroom to clean up. The sound of running water echoed through the heavy door.

Unbidden, the image of him slick with water flashed through my brain. My mouth went desertdry.

Lusting after his ridiculous body was a lethal poison, and I was clearly hopelessly addicted. I let out a defeated exhale. God, I'm pathetic. He took an incredibly long shower.

So long that by the time I finished scrubbing myself down in the guest bathroom, he still hadn't come out. Whenever we finished, he never offered to carry me to the shower.

Not unless I clung to him like a stagefive clinger and demanded it. The glowing text from earlier flashed in my mind. I dropped my gaze to the floor tiles.

Was he seriously holding back bile every time we touched? With that level of endurance, the man could conquer the world.

By the time he finally stepped out, I had my eyes squeezed shut, faking sleep.

Normally, I'd be wrapped around him like a greedy vampire, leaving an endless trail of lingering kisses across his lips and jawline before letting him rest. Not tonight.

Not ever again. The room plunged into darkness. The mattress dipped beside me. I bit down hard on my lower lip. A sharp, phantom ache twisted right under my ribs.

The comments weren't lying. What a coldblooded bastard. He killed the lights at lightning speed the second he thought I was out.

Like he was terrified of another sneak attack from my mouth. Spite flared in my chest. I yanked the comforter entirely to my side, leaving him practically bare.

Deep down, a pathetic part of me hoped he would bridge the gap and pull me into his chest for warmth. Instead, the rustle of fabric echoed in the dark.

Alistair smoothly reached under the bed, pulled out a spare duvet, and draped it over himself. He even tossed a generous corner over my legs. Perfect.

It was like punching a marshmallow. I dug my nails into my palms, fuming.

The floating comments materialized out of thin air again, zero regard for the vibe: [ Wow, did that toxic psycho traumatize our cold, untouchable billionaire so badly he actually has PTSD? ] [ What kind of stunt is she pulling now?

Playing hard to get? Bit late for that since she practically threw herself at him on day one. ] [ Ugh, girls need selfrespect. Look at her.

Men never value what comes too easy. ] Alistair's breathing evened out beside me. My mind started to drift.

Who the hell started the rumor that I was still throwing myself at Zane, that arrogant hothead? I needed to sue for emotional damage. The "main couple" and I used to be classmates.

Chapter 2 Ever since I woke up and realized I was living inside a novel as the toxic villainess, I stayed a million miles away from the main couple. I dodged them like the plague.

No catfights, no pathetic chasing, no romance. I just focused on living my own stupid, peaceful life.

Because according to those damn prophecies, my role as a toxic villainess who loses her mind over a man would end with me losing my family inheritance and rotting away in the worst prison imaginable.

Pathetic. I used to think the universe letting me get away with murder was a sign of favoritism. Now I realize it was just lining up the sniper shot.

Besides, the male lead's brooding face wasn't even my type. I practically prayed for the sunshine female lead to speedrun her little "I can fix him" rescue mission.

But the second male lead, Alistair? He was a walking thirst trap perfectly engineered to ruin my life. He transferred to our class the second semester.

Standing at the front of the room, he was tall, lean, and ridiculously striking. His lips moved. What was he saying? No idea. It was just white noise.

All I could think was: I want a bite. Too bad he only had eyes for the female lead, Maeve. To every other girl in the school, he was an equalopportunity block of ice.

To get him to talk to me, I deliberately faceplanted on my desk and faked a coma right when he was collecting group assignments. Alistair called my name.

When I didn't budge, he curled his fingers and rapped his knuckles against my desk twice. "Wake up," he sighed.

Knowing when to quit, I lifted my head, blinking like I'd just been yanked from a deep slumber.

I shot him a playful wink, acting like he had just ruined my beauty sleep. "I was right in the middle of a date with a hot guy in my dreams, and you just brutally interrupted it.

How are you going to compensate me?" That stiff, cheap blazer with zero tailoring. Alistair somehow wore it with the repressed, untouchable vibe of a highfashion model.

Fashion really was carried by the face. He was standing, I was sitting. It was a notoriously unflattering angle, yet his sharp jawline remained flawless. My selfcontrol snapped.

I couldn't resist reaching out and stroking his hand resting on my desk. "You have really pretty hands," I purred. Alistair froze, staring at me like I was a straightup predator.

A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. I slid my pinky finger forward, tangling it deliberately around his pale knuckles. His expression darkened instantly.

He snatched his hand back, the tips of his ears flushing a faint red. "Lin Siyuan, boundaries." I brushed off the rejection, leaning in closer with a bright grin. "You know my name?" Alistair dropped his gaze to the plastic ID tag pinned to my chest, then dragged his eyes back up to my face.

A beat of dead silence passed. He gave me a flat look. "You didn't do the homework, did you?" My brain shortcircuited. When it finally clicked, I wanted to laugh.

So I'd just spent the last five minutes throwing myself at a brick wall? Time rolled on.

From the sidelines, I watched the female lead execute her perfect arc with the brooding male lead.

I also watched Alistair orbit her like a satellite, taking care of her every need with sickening devotion.

The moment the main couple finally made it official, a strange wave of relief washed over me. The invisible chains of the plot just snapped.

I found Alistair out by the lake behind the school. He was sitting on a bench, staring blankly at the glassy water.

His profile was cool and detached, giving absolutely nothing away. I figured his heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

I stared at his profile, carved like a masterpiece by God himself. His long, powerful fingers gripped the edge of the bench so hard his knuckles turned a restrained, ghostly white.

In that moment, I wanted to tear apart the woman who broke his heart, but more than that, I wanted to be the only reason he ever lost control.

I walked up and planted myself right in front of him. "Don't be sad. I like you." My eyes were glued to his face.

No matter how many times I looked at him, his ridiculous good looks still made my chest stutter. Alistair didn't reject me. He didn't say yes, either.

Shock rippled across his features. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say, he swallowed it right back down.

Chapter 3 It took six months of relentless, shameless badgering before I finally wore him down and claimed my prize. I'd always been a spoiled brat.

After we started dating, I couldn't stop picturing the way he used to look at Maeve. The comparison was automatic, toxic, and entirely my own doing.

In this relationship, I was suffocatingly possessive. Zero security.

The only way I could prove he was completely mine was through endless, desperate demands and skintoskin contact, confirming it in every ragged breath. Seven years.

We dated for seven solid years. Every birthday, every anniversary, I held my breath, waiting for him to drop to one knee and pull out a ring. Never happened.

He never even entertained the thought. The floating comments had nailed it—I was the one practically throwing myself at his feet.

We hadn't even been together a month before I dragged him into bed. I mean, look at his face. Resisting that should be a crime. After that, I had zero filter.

I practically forced him to roleplay my favorite anime characters. I thought we were just having fun. Turns out, it was entirely a onewoman show.

Looking back, every single time I climbed onto him, his first reflex was to raise a hand to stop me. But I was too busy chasing my own high to care.

His resistance just fueled the fire, making me push harder, dominating him until he gave in. The more I replayed it, the tighter my chest got.

A suffocating knot formed in my throat. I was a massive joke. I rolled over, yanking the heavy duvet up to my chin. My nose burned.

For the first time in recorded history, I woke up at the crack of dawn. I dug through my closet and pulled out the most conservative, fullycovered outfit I owned.

I made damn sure I was fully dressed before Alistair even stirred.

I even gathered up all the Victoria's Secret lace lingerie that was as thin as air, shoved them into a trash bag, and chucked them mercilessly into the bin.

On a normal morning, I'd be wrapped around him like an octopus, trapping him in bed.

I'd parade around in those tiny scraps of lace just to mess with him, absolutely refusing to let him leave until I got what I wanted.

I made him late for work more times than I could count. I was unhinged, totally shameless, constantly whispering the dirtiest things in his ear. I'd scream whatever came to mind.

Half the time, he'd have a vein popping in his forehead as he scrambled to clamp a hand over my mouth.

A bitter taste coated my tongue. "Where are you going?" Alistair's voice shattered my thoughts. He was just waking up, his voice rough with sleep.

He narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on my outfit. Normally, after my morning routine, I'd pass out until noon.

Seeing me fully vertical before 9 AM was practically a glitch in the matrix. Before I could say a word, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

His tone softened a fraction. "You don't need to dress up that much just to go to the office." I blinked. I looked down at my basic cardigan and slacks.

To a straight guy, I guess it looked like a pantsuit. Did he think I was tagging along to micromanage him again?

I frantically waved my hands, physically backing away. "I'm not going to the office with you." Alistair didn't say anything. His dark eyes flickered.

Then, he reached a hand out toward me. I stared at it, my brain stalling out. What did he want?

After a few seconds of calculation, I grabbed his hand with both of mine, braced my feet, and hoisted him off the mattress with everything I had.

I let out a huff of air, genuinely asking, "Did your legs fall asleep?" Alistair's tall, explosive frame pitched forward violently from the sudden yank.

He dropped to one knee on the soft mattress, the hard lines of his chest faintly visible beneath his rumpled shirt. It was intimidating, yet dangerously sexy.

Chapter 4 His brows pulled together. "No?" [ Oh my god! I feel bad for the second ML.

The villainess has him trained like a literal dog. ] [ He thought she was starting another roleplay. Reaching out to get it over with fast. ] [ Right?

Why isn't she eating him alive this morning? Finally realizing she needs to spare his kidneys? ] [ Too late.

Those two are like tireless machines, their mattress is probably in heaven shedding tears of sheer exhaustion. ] I dropped my gaze. Heat crept up my neck.

I didn't expect the comments to broadcast my business like that. Mortifying. When I didn't react, Alistair's jaw clenched. His dark eyes locked onto mine.

His voice dropped, losing its icy edge. "I'm sorry. I didn't perform well last night. I'll make it up to you. Twice." [ Help me, he's an actual angel.

She plays hard to get for five seconds and he immediately thinks his bed game was weak. ] [ Ugh, that's what happens with overly responsible guys.

Even if he doesn't love her, he can't bring himself to dump her. ] [ Don't rush it.

Once the female lead's little sister shows up, he's going to hand over his entire net worth to the villainess as a breakup fee.

He just doesn't have the resolve yet! ] Reading those words felt like swallowing a mouthful of ash.

After seven years of being by his side, was I still nothing more than a cheap standin for his perfect high school sweetheart?

I forced down the lump in my throat. "I don't want it." I looked up, forcing the lie out of my mouth. "I'm not going to beg you for it anymore, either." Who wouldn't want a morning workout so intense it felt like tearing each other apart?

Ugh, whatever. I just have to endure it. Alistair's gaze darkened. A dangerous spark ignited in his eyes, so intense I had to look away.

After a long beat, he stood up without a word and threw his clothes on.

Before walking out the bedroom door, his heavy gaze swept over my face one last time. "Next time I work late, I'll text you," he said, a strange grievance clipping his words. "Don't say things like that again." I blinked, stunned.

It suddenly hit me—he'd come home an hour late last night. I completely forgot. I mean, the second he walked through the door, I'd pounced on him.

We were right in the middle of it when the floating text popped up. Then I bolted. And then. He stormed into the bathroom, jaw ticking, looking like murder.

Did he seriously think I was punishing him for being late? Talk about overthinking. I smacked my forehead. Wow. I really had treated him like garbage these past few years.

I purposely stalled in the bedroom. Opening drawers, shifting hangers. Making a ridiculous amount of noise just to look busy.

At exactly 9:00 AM—well past his usual commute time—I let out a breath and stepped out.

Only to find the man who should have been at the office sitting leisurely at the dining table, eating breakfast.

Seeing me, he stood up, walked into the kitchen, and set a steaming plate of food right in front of me. Fuck. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

Alistair finished his meal with methodical precision. Dressed in his sharp tailored suit, he stood by the entryway. His usually calm eyes were dark and unreadable.

My mind was racing too fast. The food tasted like cardboard in my mouth. I didn't even notice him standing by the door for a solid five minutes.

Chapter 5 The floating text finally did me a favor and tipped me off: [ What is the villainess doing? Look up at the second ML! ] [ Don't ask. She's just a bottomless pit.

In more ways than one. ] [ The second ML really does have survival muscle memory now. Look at him, standing by the door like a good boy waiting for his goodbye kiss.

Remember that one time he left without kissing her? She stormed his office and rode him for hours. ] [ Too bad the system autocensors whenever they get down to business. ] [ +1.

Such a waste. This toxic psycho might be annoying, but her body and face are straightup Victoria's Secret supermodel tier! They even censor their heavy makeout sessions!

I'm filing a complaint with the censorship board! ] A vein throbbed at my temple. Would it kill these commenters to go one day without roasting me?

But a quiet breath of relief slipped past my lips. At least this mysterious system wasn't entirely unhinged. I finally lifted my gaze to the entryway.

In his tailored suit, Alistair looked untouchable—a cold, aristocratic billionaire with a dangerously repressed vibe. Which, to be fair, he was.

After college, he launched a startup with family money and a little bit of his own elbow grease. In just two years, he'd become the tech world's newest golden boy.

I snapped back to reality. I thought about it for a second, then raised a hand and gave him a stiff wave. "Drive safe." Let's see how he handles me playing dumb.

Alistair turned his head.

His dark eyes narrowed, scanning my face. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I shook my head blankly, playing up the innocent confusion. "Did I?" He really underestimated me.

I could forget my own name before I forgot how good he looked in bed. But things were different now.

The thought of him tossing me aside the second his true love's sister showed up… it made looking at his perfect face incredibly annoying.

But I didn't want to be the one to pull the plug. Finding another guy who perfectly matched my aesthetic and my appetites would be a nightmare.

And I was way too lazy to go through the whole "getting to know you" phase with someone new. Just thinking about it exhausted me. Alistair clearly hadn't expected that answer.

A microscopic flinch rolled through his broad shoulders. Silence stretched between us. His eyes burned into mine. "You're mad." Staring at his sharp, angular face, I faltered.

But my mouth just kept running. "I'm not mad. I just think we need to start protecting our kidneys. I've been thinking. We've been together for seven years.

I've been way too clingy, forcing you to do everything for me.

You deserve some space." I remembered all the times his friends called to hang out, and I'd snatched his phone right out of his hand to snap a rejection.

Eventually, people stopped calling. Everyone knew Alistair lived with a psycho, possessive control freak. I pressed my lips together.

My voice was quiet, but crystal clear. "I won't force you anymore—" A dark, violent storm erupted in Alistair's eyes