Page 3 of Villainous Rise

I straightened, ignoring the knot forming between my shoulder blades. “That’s not necessary.”

“It wasn’t a question of necessity, Annie. It was a question of preference.”

“I’m fine.” The words came out clipped. “This is what I do.”

Havoc didn’t push, but I felt his eyes on me as we continued walking. The weight of his gaze made the back of my neck prickle. He knew what had happened between Cipher and me, not necessarily the intimate details, thank God, but enough to understand why I might want distance.

I lied about many things, Annie. But never about wanting you. Never about needing you.

The memory of his voice sliced through me, as sharp and unexpected as the day he’d said it. My fingers tightened around my tablet until my knuckles ached. I hated that his words still echoed in my head sometimes, usually at three in the morning when sleep refused to come.

I took a deep breath. “The Nemesis contract is a significant career milestone for you. For both of you. I won’t let personal history interfere with that. I’m a professional,” I added, as if I needed to remind myself as much as Havoc.

Havoc’s knowing look said he wasn’t fooled. “Just remember, Annie. Professional distance is one thing. Pretending he doesn’t exist is another.”

I forced a smile. “I’m perfectly aware he exists. My therapist’s yacht payments depend on it.”

Havoc placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle. “Annie, it’s okay to admit when something’s difficult. No one expects you to be unaffected.”

I nodded mechanically, but my mind had already drifted elsewhere. To him.

Three months.

Three whole months without a word from Cipher. Not a text, not a call. Nothing. The silence had its own weight, pressing against my chest whenever I let myself think about it.

“I’m fine,” I repeated. “It’s just work.”

But it wasn’t just work, and we both knew it. The promotional materials for their Nemesis fight meant I’d have to see his face again, that infuriating smirk visible beneath his mask, the only part of his face he ever showed to the world.

Except he’d shown me more, hadn’t he? He’d shown me everything.

And then nothing. Complete radio silence for three months.

Which was fine. Really. Absolutely fine. So fine that my jaw ached from clenching it every time I thought about him. So fine that I’d developed a special talent for dropping things whenever someone mentioned his name. So fine that I’d created an entire system for organizing my apartment at 2 AM when memories of him kept me awake.

What could I possibly have to say to the man who’d lied to me from almost the moment we met?

Except fucking everything.

I wanted to demand he tell me why he’d disappeared so completely. I wanted to know if he ever thought about the nights when his hands had moved over my skin like he was memorizing every inch of me.

The phantom sensation of his touch still burned sometimes, a ghost I couldn’t exorcise.

I wanted to ask if he’d meant it when he said he loved me. Those words, thrown at me like a last-ditch effort after everything had fallen apart.

The words that should have meant everything but came too late to mean anything at all. They were words that still managed to twist something sharp between my ribs whenever I thought them.

I wanted to force him to his knees and make him confess exactly what it cost him to leave me terrified in the dark. I wanted him to beg for my forgiveness.

My anger felt like a living thing sometimes, coiled tight in my stomach, hot and venomous. Other times it was just exhaustion, a bone-deep weariness at having been so completely, spectacularly wrong about someone. And beneath it all, there was a humiliating undercurrent of something that felt dangerously like missing him.

“Do you need a day off?” Havoc asked, breaking into my thoughts. “The paperwork can wait.”

I straightened my jacket again, pulling myself back to the present. “No. I’ve got this.” I gave him my best fake smile, the one I’d perfected in the mirror until not even Havoc could tell it wasn’t real. “We should see about your new Protégés. I’ve got plenty of room in my schedule for new catastrophes.”

CHAPTER 2

CIPHER