Page 47 of Villainous Rise

The urge to point out that I had listened to the stylist for the retirement party and he’d hadn’t liked what they’d chosen warred with my desire to end this conversation to get to my coffee. Professional Annie won.

“I’ll take their opinions under advisement.”

I turned toward my office before he could launch into whatever speech about “image coordination” was clearly brewing behind those green eyes.

“Great! The stylist will be here at four.”

Fantastic. Just enough time to question all my life choices then.

I pushed through my office door and paused.

There was a cup of coffee already on my desk and beside it was a single purple rose.

Cipher had been here. In my office.

I touched the velvety petals of the rose. All the thorns had been meticulously stripped away, leaving the stem perfectly smooth. My mind flashed to the last time he left me a thornless rose, right next to Baron Ash’s severed hands.

My eyes drifted upward to the highest shelf of my bookcase. Tucked away in the shadows, invisible to anyone wandering into my office for a chat, sat the glass preservation box. Inside rested those massive, calloused hands. I still wasn’t entirely sure why I hadn’t had Simmons incinerate them but looking at them settled something dark and fractured inside me. They were the undeniable proof that one of the monsters who haunted my nightmares could never hurt me again.

I glanced back at the rose. After our conversation the night before, I recognized it for what it was—a silent declaration that the Tower’s security was nothing but a minor inconvenience to him. A message delivered with all the subtlety of a brick through a window as he claimed his territory right under Havoc’s nose. I was here. I could have done anything. But all I did was bring you coffee.

I hated that knowing a monster could slip into my office undetected made me feel infinitely safer than the dozens of Heroes occupying the lower levels of the Tower.

I pulled out my phone and stared at his contact.

My thumb hovered over the keyboard. Part of me wanted to text him just to make a point: Nice security breach. Havoc would be thrilled to know his impenetrable fortress can be penetrated by anyone with a coffee cup and zero respect for boundaries.

But that would be giving him exactly what he wanted—my attention.

Nope. Not happening.

I pocketed my phone and picked up the coffee instead.

“Breaking and entering to deliver caffeine,” I muttered to the empty office. “How romantic. Next time maybe try not committing felonies as foreplay.”

I took a sip, hating that it was exactly what I needed this morning.

As I sorted through the morning’s paperwork, I kept looking at the stupid rose sitting there, all innocent and thornless. Like removing sharp objects somehow made breaking into the Tower less invasive.

“This isn’t about security,” I told the rose as if it might relay the message. “It’s about you thinking rules don’t apply when you’re ‘taking care’ of someone.”

The rose, predictably, offered no defense for its courier.

I finished my coffee and tucked the rose into my desk drawer. Out of sight, but not entirely out of mind, much like its sender.

The morning slipped away in a blur of meetings, paperwork, and trying not to think about Cipher. By noon, I’d managed to clear most of my inbox and fit three press appearances into Valor’s already packed schedule.

Lunch consisted of a sad desk salad, because I wasn’t going to tempt fate by forgetting to eat, while I reviewed Helios’s training schedule. Unlike Valor, he’d submitted his preferences with a polite note thanking me for my time. The contrast between the two men was enough to give anyone whiplash.

At 1:45, I packed up my tablet and headed to Havoc’s office for the scheduled viewing of the Granite versus Toxica match. The annual Alliance rivals’ fights were always a spectacle, drawing massive crowds and viewership numbers that made the Alliance PR team drool.

I found Havoc already settled in his oversized leather chair, the wall-sized screen displaying the pre-match commentary. Helios stood by the window, his golden hair catching the afternoon light in a way that made him look like he was glowing from within.

“Annie!” He smiled warmly. “I brought cookies from that bakery you mentioned.”

I spotted the familiar box on Havoc’s conference table and felt a rush of appreciation.

“You’re officially my favorite protégé,” I said, reaching for a chocolate chip cookie that was still slightly warm.