Page 39 of Villainous Rise

“I believe you owe me something, Cipher,” he announced, his voice pitched to carry. Always performing. “The League has ordered you to apologize for your unprovoked assault on my person during a sanctioned event.”

The audacity of this fucker.

“You’re right,” I said, cutting him off before he could launch into what was undoubtedly a rehearsed speech about his wounded dignity. “I do owe you something.”

Valor’s eyebrows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face before settling into smug satisfaction. He actually thought I was going to grovel. Fucking incredible.

“I apologize,” I continued, my voice carrying the perfect blend of sincerity and regret, “that you have such a punchable face.”

Annie made a strangled sound that might have been a suppressed laugh.

Valor’s jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. “You think this is funny? You attacked a Hero⁠—”

“I corrected an asshole,” I interrupted. “The fact that the asshole happens to wear a cape and sucks the Alliance’s collective dick is irrelevant.”

I turned on my heel. Behind me was the sudden scuffle of movement, a grunt, and Havoc’s low warning: “Don’t.”

The sound of Valor struggling against Havoc’s restraint was music to my ears. I didn’t need to look back to know exactly what was happening. The asshole’s pride demanding satisfaction, Havoc physically holding him back, Annie watching it all with that perfect mixture of professional composure and private judgment.

I stepped onto my airship, not giving Valor the satisfaction of looking back.

CHAPTER 8

ANNIE

My head throbbed like someone was using my skull for drum practice. One solid hour of Valor’s voice, his perfect, utterly insufferable voice, had left me with the kind of headache usually reserved for hangovers and concussions.

“And did you see how they captured my profile?” Valor asked, flipping through the digital proofs on his tablet. “The lighting really accentuates my jawline.”

“Mmhmm,” I managed, which seemed to satisfy him enough to continue his monologue. I knew I should be helping him select the best shots for the upcoming press release. I needed to look for brand consistency and heroic appeal. But the hollow ache in my stomach hurt enough to drown out any professional obligations I had left.

Plus, the task was redundant. Every single photo was infuriatingly flawless. Valor’s natural aura basically guaranteed he never took a bad picture.

My stomach let out a growl. The protein bar I’d wolfed down at lunchtime had long since metabolized into nothing.

Stupid, stupid pride. There had been a delivery around lunchtime, something that smelled suspiciously like my favorite curry from that little place three blocks from the Tower. I’d sent it back unopened, just like I’d sent back every single delivery for the past week.

Because apparently starvation was preferable to accepting anything from Cipher. Even if my treacherous stomach disagreed.

My stomach growled again.

“Was that your stomach?” Valor asked, looking vaguely disgusted. As if basic human functions were beneath him. Maybe they were. For all I knew, he photosynthesized or absorbed admiration directly through his pores.

I nodded and mumbled something about skipping lunch.

God, I was hungry. And tired. And so very done with pretending Valor’s jawline was a matter of national importance.

It had been exactly one week since Cipher had kidnapped me from that party. One week of Havoc’s concerned glances and my stomach staging increasingly vocal rebellions.

For the first three days after the kidnapping, I’d made a point of feeding myself properly. Packed lunches, scheduled dinner breaks, the whole responsible adult routine. A silent middle finger to Cipher and his presumptuous food deliveries.

See? I don’t need you.

Then work started to pile up and somehow eating became that thing I’d get to “in a minute” until suddenly it was midnight and I was surviving on coffee and spite.

The deliveries had shown up like clockwork once I’d started forgetting meals. Breakfast pastries that smelled like heaven. Lunches from my favorite places. Dinners that made my mouth water even through the packaging.

I’d refused every single one.