Page 147 of Villainous Rise

I barely held the tears back as he was destroying me. I couldn’t take another second of his perfectly modulated, agonizing cruelty. The pain in my chest mutated into a sudden, blinding flash of fury.

I snapped.

I wrenched my hand upward, aiming a vicious slap directly at his arrogant cheek.

Cipher didn’t even blink. He caught my wrist in mid-air, his fingers clamping down over my bones with bruising, inescapable force. He smoothly transitioned the block into a dramatic dip, bending me backward over his arm.

To the donors watching, it was a breathtaking piece of choreography. To me, it was captivity. He held me suspended over the floor, completely at his mercy.

“Careful,” he whispered. “It would look terribly inappropriate for the happy bride to strike a donor, Ms. Bishop. We must consider the optics.”

We moved across the floor in perfect rhythm, his body guiding mine. I could feel myself shaking, fine tremors running through my limbs despite my best efforts to stop them.

“Why did you even come here tonight?”

His hand tightened on my waist, fingers digging in just shy of painful. “I came for you. But clearly, I came for nothing.”

I turned my face away, unable to bear the coldness in his eyes, but a traitorous tear escaped despite my best efforts. Before anyone could notice, Cipher spun us in a smooth movement, positioning himself between me and the crowd.

I swiped at the tear quickly, mortified. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He didn’t respond. Just kept moving us across the floor, his body rigid against mine. The silence between us stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Say something. Anything.

“I couldn’t make a scene,” I tried again, desperation creeping into my voice. “The Alliance PR team⁠—”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Alliance PR team.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. Not angry anymore. Just empty. “And I certainly don’t give a fuck about your excuses.”

The music swelled around us. Couples swayed nearby, lost in each other’s eyes while we danced on the edge of a knife.

“Cipher, please...”

“Please what, Annie?” His voice dropped lower, cruel in its softness. “Please understand why you let another man kiss you? Please pretend I don’t want to rip his throat out every time he touches you?”

The song was ending and our time running out. I panicked as I realized this might be the last time I’d ever be in his arms. The coldness in his eyes, the rigid set of his shoulders, this was someone who was done with me and not the man who’d said he loved me.

The song ended, the final notes hanging in the air between us. Cipher’s hand released my waist but kept hold of my fingers for one beat too long.

“Enjoy your engagement, Ms. Bishop,” he said. “You deserve it.”

He released me, stepping back with cold formality.

I opened my mouth, to say something—anything—that would erase the hurt in his eyes that he was trying so hard to hide behind anger.

But before I could speak, a woman appeared at his side. Tall, willowy, with cascading dark hair and a dress that looked painted onto her curves.

“Thomas,” she purred. “I’ve been hoping to catch you.”

The transformation was immediate. Cipher’s entire demeanor shifted, his mouth curving into that devastating smile that made my heart ache. The one he gave me.

“Ms. Winters,” he replied, his accent wrapping around her name like a caress. “You look absolutely stunning tonight.”

She laughed, the sound musical. “I was hoping you might spare me a dance? Unless you’re otherwise engaged?”

Her eyes barely flicked to me dismissively before returning to Cipher.

“I would be delighted.” Cipher took her hand, bringing it to his lips just as he had done with mine.