Page 78 of Villainous Rise

The remaining minutes of our drive stretched into an eternity before the car pulled up to the Tower.

Cipher still hadn’t spoken. His profile was carved from stone, jaw tight, eyes forward.

I reached for the door handle, suddenly desperate to escape the tension I’d created.

“Thank you for the ride.” The politeness sounded absurd after what I’d said.

“You’re welcome.” Cipher’s voice was flat, mechanical. Nothing like the warm, dangerous purr I’d grown accustomed to. Just empty syllables.

I hesitated, my hand on the door handle. An apology worked its way up in my throat—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it wasn’t just fucking to me—but I swallowed it down. This was what I wanted, right? Distance. Space. Boundaries.

I stepped out of the car. Cipher didn’t look at me, just stared straight ahead.

“Goodbye, Cipher.” The words felt inadequate, empty.

He nodded once, a barely perceptible movement.

I closed the door and watched as the car pulled away, disappearing into traffic as the knot in my stomach tightened.

This was good. This was progress. I’d hurt him, and he deserved to hurt after what he’d done to me.

Except it didn’t feel good at all.

I turned toward the Tower, my sanctuary of rules and order and professional distance. The place where Annie Bishop, competent Keeper, worked and definitely didn’t think about Villains with silver eyes and clever hands.

I was such a fucking liar.

CHAPTER 13

ANNIE

I’d spent two hours watching Valor preen for cameras and potential donors while barely acknowledging my existence except to drag me around like a fashion accessory. Two hours of my feet screaming in my stupid heels. Two hours of smiling so hard my face hurt.

But we were finally, finally, heading toward the exit.

I’d never been so grateful to see a doorway in my life.

Valor had been insufferable all evening, correcting my posture, criticizing my laugh.

At least Cipher hadn’t shown up. Small mercies.

It had been a week since that car ride with Cipher, since I’d told him our relationship meant nothing. A week of hiding at the Tower like a coward.

Damn him for being right. I’d run, exactly as he predicted.

My old room at the Tower had become my sanctuary this past week. A place Cipher couldn’t reach me, couldn’t kidnap me, couldn’t force me to confront the mess of feelings I’d been avoiding.

The memory of that day still made my stomach twist. I’d been so upset, so determined to push him away, that I’d forgotten to eat lunch while running errands for Havoc. When I’d finally collapsed into my office chair, exhausted and lightheaded, I’d found a delivery waiting.

He’d sent it even after I’d been an asshole to him. Even after I’d lied to his face and essentially told him he meant nothing to me.

I’d sat there staring at that stupid container of food, feeling lower than dirt. Because while I was busy trying to convince myself I didn’t care about him, he was still making sure I ate.

Being a heartless bitch is apparently harder than it looks.

“Remember, no press if you’re going out. We’ve had enough exposure for one night.” I reminded Valor as we reached the valet stand. At least I didn’t have to ride back with him to the Tower.

Valor waved dismissively, already chatting up a starlet who’d recognized him.