Page 19 of Villainous Rise

Dawn’s eyes darted between us, her eyebrows lifting as a knowing smile spread across her face.

“Well,” she said, drawing out the word. “I think I’ll go sit with Hunter. You two clearly have things to discuss.”

“The match is about to start,” I said quickly, desperation leaking into my voice. “We should all sit down.”

Dawn patted my arm, ignoring my plea. “Take your time.” She winked, actually freaking winked, and retreated to her seat beside Hunter, leaving me stranded in no-man’s-land with Cipher’s attention fixed on me.

I turned to follow her, desperate to escape.

“Running away so soon, Sparks?” His voice wrapped around the nickname like a caress. “And here I thought we were just getting reacquainted.”

My spine stiffened. “Don’t call me that.”

“Would you prefer Ms. Bishop? Or perhaps Keeper? Though I seem to recall you preferred much more intimate forms of address.”

Heat flooded my face. The bastard was deliberately trying to get under my skin, and it was working.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Any word I chose would be the wrong one, either too cold or too revealing. Instead, I turned and walked back to my seat, feeling his gaze burning into my back with every step.

Dawn shot me a questioning look as I sat down, but I avoided her eyes. My hands trembled slightly in my lap, and I curled them into fists to hide the evidence of my distress.

The announcer’s voice sounded through the arena again, mercifully drawing everyone’s attention to the combat floor. But I couldn’t focus on anything except the rage building inside me, mingling with hurt.

I caught Hunter’s eye and the guilt written across his face confirmed every suspicion. He knew Cipher would be here. Of course he knew. His best friend was sitting in the next box, and this whole evening was a setup.

Hunter winced under my death glare, having the decency to look ashamed as he mouthed what looked like “sorry.”

Sorry didn’t begin to cover it.

The arena lights dimmed dramatically as the combatants were announced. Dawn squeezed my arm, misreading my rigid posture as excitement for the match. “This is amazing! We should do this more often!”

The floor beneath us pulsed with light as the combatants entered. The crowd’s roar grew louder, but it felt distant.

I stared at the arena without seeing it.

He hadn’t contacted me once. Not a text, not a call, not even a cryptic message through Havoc. Nothing.

Because everything he’d said that night on the rooftop had been a lie.

My love isn’t gentle.

The memory of his words scraped against my raw nerves. What a performance that had been. The intensity in his silver eyes, the roughness in his voice, the way his thumb had traced circles on my wrist.

A metallic crash echoed through the arena as one fighter slammed the other into a platform. Dawn jumped beside me, then cheered. Hunter’s arm tightened around her shoulders.

“Did you see that? That was amazing!” Dawn gasped and grabbed my arm, shaking it excitedly.

I nodded mechanically, willing my eyes to stay focused forward. I would not look at him. He would be invisible. Irrelevant and forgotten.

Breathe from your diaphragm. Ground yourself in the present moment. Name five things you can see.

My therapist’s techniques weren’t working. Nothing worked. My fingers itched with the urge to reach across Dawn and strangle Hunter.

Instead, I let the spectacle fill my vision. Razorwire’s bladed limbs sliced through the air, each movement leaving faint light trails in the specially designed atmosphere. The Mechanic’s defense systems whirred audibly even from our distance, the sound cutting through the bass-heavy background music.

The Mechanic unleashed an impressive barrage of micro-drones, their metallic bodies forming a shimmering cloud around him. Razorwire countered with a sweeping gesture that sent hundreds of metal shards slicing through the air.

Time seemed to slow as I watched a stray cluster of Razorwire’s metal shards veer off course, slicing through the air toward the sidelines. The Keeper stationed there raised her hands instinctively, her personal shield flickering to life.