Page 52 of Villainous Rise

Are you free tonight or not?

I’ll answer if you answer my question. Though I’m not sure why you didn’t just hack my schedule.

I did. But asking you personally before looking seemed more gentlemanly.

How thoughtful. Answer my question.

Another pause, longer this time. I could picture him weighing his options, deciding which answer would serve him best.

My ability to be a gentleman has officially run out. Elysium with Valor. Interesting choice. Didn’t realize fake dating required candles and champagne.

I blinked at the screen. So he was just going to look at my schedule rather than answer me. Typical.

Jealous of my fake date?

Why was I poking the bear? The extremely dangerous, morally ambiguous bear who had already proven time and again that he had no respect for boundaries or security systems?

Jealous that he gets to spend the evening with you? Yes. Jealous knowing you’ll hate every second of it? Not in the slightest.

I stared at the text, heat creeping up my neck.

It’s just an interview.

Is it, though? Because according to the brief I just read, you’ll be discussing your “blossoming relationship” over champagne and candlelight.

It’s PR. Nothing more.

I give it three weeks before Alliance PR has you two “accidentally” photographed leaving his apartment in the morning. Four weeks before a “source close to the couple” leaks engagement rumors.

That’s ridiculous.

Six weeks until they stage a dramatic breakup for ratings, then reconciliation by sweeps week. You’ll be married by Christmas, divorced by Valentine’s Day.

Seven months from now, you’ll be writing a tell-all memoir: “My Life with Valor: How I Survived Dating a Man Who Schedules His Own Reflection Time.”

I bit my lip, fighting a smile. The man was infuriating, but occasionally funny.

Stop it.

“Chapter One: The Day I Realized His Hair Products Had Their Own Closet.”

Cipher.

“Chapter Two: Why There Were Always Three People In Our Relationship: Him, Me, and His Mirror.”

You’re not funny.

“Chapter Three: The Sex Was Great Until He Started Narrating His Own Performance.”

My cheeks burned at the mention of sex.

I need to go.

“Chapter Four: How I Learned to Compete with His Reflection for Attention.”

I took a deep breath and tried again.

Seriously, Cipher. Did you cancel your match to bring me dinner?