Page 119 of Villainous Rise

With one last concerned look, Havoc stormed out of the office and left me alone with the shadow on the screen.

“Well, Annie Bishop,” Wraith said. “It’s just you and me now.”

I straightened, refusing to show how unsettled I felt. “What kind of secret are you looking for?”

“Something personal. Something you’ve never told anyone,” the shadow replied. “Something that would hurt if revealed.”

“And what guarantee do I have that you won’t use it against me later?”

“None whatsoever.”

I stared at the shadowy figure on the screen. What secret could I possibly give that would satisfy this digital phantom? Something personal. Something I’d never told anyone.

My fingers found the cuff on my wrist, tracing its smooth edge. The weight of it had been a constant companion for almost two decades now. A prison and a protection all at once.

“I’m waiting, Annie Bishop.”

“When I was fourteen,” I began, my voice barely above a whisper, “I tried to kill myself.”

The shadow on the screen went perfectly still. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t gauge his reaction, but the silence felt different.

“I’d been living with Havoc for four years by then,” I continued, the words spilling out now that I’d started. “Four years of wearing a version of this.” I lifted my wrist slightly, the cuff catching the light. “Four years of knowing what would happen if it ever failed.”

My throat tightened, as memories threatened to drown me. I forced myself to keep speaking.

“I couldn’t handle it anymore—the weight of it. The knowing. The fear.” My voice cracked. “I didn’t want to be responsible for what might happen if I lost control. I didn’t want to be the monster I was afraid I’d become.”

The shadow remained silent, waiting.

“So I decided to end it. I thought it would be better for everyone if I just... disappeared. If the thing inside me disappeared with me.”

I clenched my eyes shut, remembering the cold determination I’d felt that night. The strange calm that had settled over me once I’d made my decision.

“I wrote a note. Took a shower. Put on clean clothes.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “I was always so concerned with doing things properly, even then.”

My fingers tightened around the cuff. “I had it all planned out. But Havoc found me before I could do anything. He just knew. Somehow, he knew.”

The memory of his face that night, the fear in his eyes when he’d burst into my room, it still haunted me.

“I hated him for it,” I admitted, the confession burning my throat. “For months afterward, I hated him for stopping me. For making me continue living with this thing inside me that I never asked for. I never wanted.”

The walls of the office felt like they were closing in. I was peeling back my own skin and letting a faceless phantom watch me bleed. I looked directly at the shadow, as if I could see through the digital mask to the person behind it.

“I’ve never told anyone that. Not even—“ I caught myself before saying Cipher’s name. “Not even the people closest to me. It’s the most shameful thing I’ve ever done. Not the attempt itself, but hating the man who saved me. Who’s only ever tried to protect me.”

The silence stretched between us.

“Is that enough?” I finally asked, my voice hollow. “Is my adolescent trauma sufficient payment for your help?”

Wraith remained motionless for several seconds. When he finally spoke, the modulation seemed less severe, as if he’d adjusted it to sound more human.

“Yes, Annie. That will do.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling strangely empty. Like I’d given away something vital and irreplaceable.

“Why did you tell me?” Wraith asked. “You could have made something up. I never would have known.”

I blinked, surprised by the question. Why had I told him?