Page 9 of Villainous Rise

I picked up the cuff prototype again, turning it over in my hands. I’d built it to protect Annie, yes—but also to bind her to me. To ensure that even in separation, a piece of me remained imprinted on her life.

The pain of losing her was a constant, physical presence—a hollow ache behind my ribs that no amount of work or planning could silence. But pain was information, and this particular agony told me everything I needed to know: she wasn’t something I could let go.

I would give her the illusion of choice. I would let her believe she was making her own decisions. But in the end, she would come back to me. Because while I might not deserve her, I needed her. And what I needed, I took.

CHAPTER 3

ANNIE

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to focus on Havoc’s speech instead of the growing list of to-dos screaming in my head. The press conference room buzzed with reporters and cameras, all pointed at the three figures standing on the stage. Havoc in the center with Helios and Valor flanking him like golden bookends.

“—commitment to mentoring the next generation of Heroes,” Havoc was saying, his voice carrying that perfect mix of authority and charm that made people forget he used to level city blocks for fun.

My tablet pinged with another message about the stupid upcoming Nemesis match and my stomach twisted.

“And now, I’d like to introduce Helios,” Havoc continued, gesturing to his left where Helios stood beaming like an actual ray of sunshine.

I should be paying attention. This was an important, career-defining moment for these Heroes. But all I could think about was whether Cipher would acknowledge our history or pretend nothing happened when I finally had to face him again. Would he smirk at me across the room? Avoid eye contact? Pass me notes like we were in high school?

Dear Annie, Do you still hate me? Check yes or absolutely.

“—harnessing the power of solar energy⁠—”

Focus, Annie. Focus.

I took a deep breath. Professional. I would be nothing but professional when I had to see him. Cool, collected, clipboard-wielding Annie Bishop, who definitely wasn’t having a minor breakdown about seeing her ex-whatever-he-was.

Valor stepped forward now, his perfect hair catching the light at exactly the right angle.

My tablet pinged again. Another list of security measures for post match interviews.

It was fine. Everything was fine. I just had to get through this press conference. That was all that was pressing at the moment. It’s not like I was going to see Cipher anytime soon. Well, soonish. The match was in two weeks.

I had plenty of time to prepare myself to face him without either punching him or having an emotional meltdown.

My tablet pinged again. The Alliance’s proposed schedules for Helios and Valor appeared on my screen, and I had to close my eyes and count to ten. They’d double-booked and, in one case, triple-booked Helios and Valor for appearances.

It was hard to breathe. The room felt too small, too hot, too everything. I’d buried myself in work hoping to avoid thinking about Cipher, but now I was just thinking about Cipher while drowning in spreadsheets.

The walls seemed to inch closer and the collar of my shirt felt like it was slowly choking me.

I scanned the room. Four junior Keepers stood along the wall, tablets in hand, looking appropriately serious and professional. They could handle this for five minutes without the world ending. Probably.

I slipped out the side door and found the hallway blissfully empty. I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to remember how normal breathing worked as I gulped down air.

“Get it together, Bishop.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache blooming behind my eyes. I spotted a bench further down the hall and sank down onto it. I tried to will my muscles to relax but exhaustion had settled into my bones long ago making it almost impossible.

My tablet pinged again. I briefly considered throwing it out the nearest window, but that would mean filling out an equipment replacement form, which would require three signatures and a blood sacrifice to the Alliance bureaucracy gods.

I sighed, thinking back to simpler times when my biggest problem was making sure Havoc showed up to his press conferences on time.

Back then, when stress piled up, I’d retreat into my guilty pleasure—scrolling through ShadowSnap, hunting for new photos of Cipher. I’d spend hours analyzing every shadow in his latest battle shots, every hint of that infuriating smirk beneath his mask.

God, I’d been pathetic.

But there had been something soothing about being a faceless fan, bookmarking those explicit fanfictions under KeeperOfRules, imagining playing out all of those sexual fantasies.

Then I’d met the real Cipher, discovered who he was beneath the mask, and everything had gone from fantasy to complicated reality.