The Villainess Resigns

The concrete floor bit into my hip. Cold. Damp.

A wet, metallic cough ripped through my chest. I couldn't stop the convulsions.

Hot, metallic fluid flooded my throat. A wet, heavy thud. A puddle of black blood stained the grey concrete.

My eyes drifted to the TV mounted high on the wall, just out of reach.

Xavier and April.

They were beaming, waving to a cheering crowd. The chyron scrolled beneath their perfect faces: The Grand Celebration. Welcome, Twins.

My vision swam red. I stared at the screen. At the golden couple who had everything.

In the last few seconds of my life, I made a vow.

Never again.

I would never be the damn villainess in their story again.

This was what I got for fighting the main characters? Betrayal. Ruin. Death.

No!

I gasped. My eyes snapped open.

Air. Real air filled my lungs.

Cold sweat soaked my spine. My fingers were cramping around something damp.

I looked down. I wasn't in a cell. I was clutching a dirty rag in a dim, beer-stained karaoke room.

Chapter 1

Six months. That was how long I had been wiping tables and dodging grabby hands in this dive.

Then, clarity hit me like a truck.

I was in a book. A cheesy, billionaire romance novel. And I was the designated bitch.

The villainess.

The plot was already written in my head. Tomorrow, my biological father, Thomasa billionaire I didn't know existedwould find me.

Then came the script. The tearful reunion. The arranged marriage to a man who felt absolutely nothing for me. The cold violence of a loveless home.

Meanwhile, April would meet Xavier. They would get the fairy tale. The pampering. The obsession. The entire world handed to them on a silver platter.

And me? I would spend my days jealous, unhinged, trying to sabotage them until I ended up rotting in prison while they celebrated their perfect little twins.

Seriously? Who wrote this trash?

Rich. Idle. A husband with a black card. Why would I throw that away to chase after a man who hated me? Why ruin my life for plot?

No.

The script said I had to go back to Thomas. Fine. It said I had to marry Declan, the cold-hearted husband. Fine.

But the rest?

I was rewriting it.

I chose the money. I chose the quiet life. I chose not to be insane.

Declan stood by the door, adjusting his cuffs. He was going to see her. Elise. His one that got away.

"Take flowers," I said, not looking up from my phone. "Elise loves white roses. Don't buy the red ones."

Declan froze. He turned slowly, a question mark stamped on his face. He looked confused, and I could see the gears turning.

According to his villain wife manual, I should be screaming. I should be clinging to his leg, begging him not to go. In my old life, marriage meant loyalty. You didn't stray. You didn't share.

But that was before. Now? I only loved one thing. And it wasn't him.

"Let's make a deal," I said, flashing a business-casual smile. "To keep the peace."

"What kind of deal?" His voice was wary.

"You play. I keep your secrets. You pay."

I tapped my fingers on the table.

"Per visit."

Declan stared. Silence stretched, heavy and awkward.

"Isn't this how you rich people operate?" I asked, tilting my head. "Marriage is a merger. Feelings are optional. Everyone has a side piece, right?"

He stayed silent for two seconds. A long time for a man who usually ignored me.

"Open marriages are common in our circle," he said, his tone flat. "Asking your husband for hush money isn't."

I threw my hands up. "Men aren't reliable, Declan."

I grinned.

"Cash is."

He didn't reply.

Chapter 2

Declan had barely cleared the driveway when my phone buzzed.

April.

Right on cue. According to the timeline, she had just officially locked down Xavier. I knew the script. She would gush about how Xavier spoiled her rotten. Then, she'd throw in a pity question about my life.

"How are you doing, Fallon?"

Knowing full well Declan was off warming Elise's bed.

In the original story, I would have snapped. I was the bitter, jealous heiress losing to the Cinderella story. I would have raged.

Now? I checked my nails.

"I'm packing," I said, cutting off her monologue about Xavier's credit limit.

April paused. "Packing? Did you and Declan fight?"

Her voice dripped with that fake, wide-eyed concern.

"I don't have time to fight," I said, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder as I threw bikinis into my Rimowa. "I'm going on a trip."

"A honeymoon?"

"Solo trip."

"Oh!" She sounded scandalized. "But you guys are newlyweds! Shouldn't you be you know trying for a baby?"

My hand froze over my suitcase.

A baby? With Declan? The man who looked at me like I was a tax audit?

"Pass," I said.

I mumbled a vague excuse and hung up.

A second later, my phone pinged. Bank notification: Transfer received. Declan's hush money.

I grinned. I grabbed my bag and headed for the airport.

Declan came home that night to a pitch-black house. My phone rang while I was sipping a coconut on a private deck.

"Where are you?" He sounded bewildered.

"Maldives," I said, watching the orange sun dip into the turquoise water. "Watching the sunset."

"???"

I could practically hear the question marks popping out of his head. I hung up.

My peace lasted exactly twenty-four hours.

The next day, a private jet landed. April and Xavier.

April claimed she missed me.

"It's been so long!" she squealed, clinging to Xavier's bicep. "I made Xavier bring me here to see you!"

Right. She missed me. Or she needed an audience. It didn't take long to figure out which one it was.

For the rest of the day, I was the third wheel in their romance movie. They were glued together. Constant touching. Whispering. Giggling.

And April

"Fallon, can you pass me that sunscreen?"

"Fallon, hold my bag for a sec?"

"Fallon, could you grab us some drinks?"

She wasn't treating me like a friend. She was treating me like the help.

I watched them feed each other fruit and felt a headache building behind my eyes.

Nope.

I stood up. "I'm changing hotels."

April blinked, looking up from Xavier's chest. "What? Why? Is it the money?"

She frowned, her expression innocent. "You spend so much, Fallon. Doesn't your husband get mad?"

The implication hung in the humid air. She was judging me. Little Miss "My Boyfriend Bought Me This Island" was judging my spending.

I looked at her. Really looked at her.

"Declan and I have a business marriage, April," I said, my voice cool and even. "He's my partner. Not my sugar daddy."

April's face fell. The color drained out of her cheeks. The word "sugar daddy" hit a little too close to home.

I didn't wait for her to recover.

"Have fun," I said.

I walked away.

I was the villainess in this book. But I refused to be a supporting character in her life.

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. And I was done drinking their Kool-Aid.

Chapter 3

Two weeks of paradise later, my phone buzzed. Declan. The vacation was over.

There was a gala. A big one. The kind where family politics played out over champagne and fake smiles. He needed a prop.

"Take Elise," I said, twirling a cocktail umbrella. "She's female. She owns a dress. Problem solved."

Silence on the other end. Heavy, irritated silence.

"Fallon." His voice was a warning. "My parents will be there. Your parents will be there. It's a joint appearance."

"Tell them I have the plague. Leprosy?"

"You want to stay there that badly?"

"I'm just getting started."

Declan let out a cold, sharp laugh. "I've never met a woman who actively pushes her husband into another woman's arms. You're a real piece of work, Fallon."

I rolled my eyes at the ceiling. Was he serious?

In the original script, this was the part where I screamed. I would have flown back, stormed into the gala, thrown wine at Elise, and got slapped by Declan in front of the city's elite. Then he would have ghosted me for months.

Is that what he wanted? Hysteria? Men are such masochists.

"Fine," I said. "I'll play the dutiful wife. But I have conditions."

"Name it."

"April's birthday is coming up. You're coming with me. And you're going to be charming."

April. I planned to cut ties, but I owed her.

Back when we were scrubbing tables and smelling like stale beer, a drunk patron tried to drag me into a bathroom. April threw herself between us, taking the hit meant for me. She saved me.

I wasn't going to be her bestie, but I wouldn't let her lose face on her big day.

"Fine," Declan said. "See you tomorrow."

My flight was delayed. Three hours.

When I finally walked out of arrivals, Declan looked like a thundercloud in a bespoke suit. He was leaning against the car, checking his watch for the fiftieth time.

I stopped in front of him. "You look thrilled," I said. "Should I turn around and fly back?"

Declan didn't speak. He opened the car door and shoved me inside. A garment bag landed in my lap.

"Put it on. We're late."

"Here?"

Declan pressed a button. The partition between us and the driver slid up with a soft whir. "Privacy mode. Get changed."

I looked at him. "You're still here."

He turned his head, staring aggressively out the window. "I'm not looking."

"The window is reflective, Declan. Close your eyes."

He inhaled sharply. The patience was fraying. He whipped his head back around, glaring at me.

"We're married, Fallon. I have a license that says I can look at whatever I want."

"Is that a threat or an invitation?"

I dropped the garment bag. My fingers went to the hem of my shirt.

"Go ahead then. Look."

I pulled the shirt over my head. No hesitation. No shyness.

Declan froze. His eyes went wide. Then, a flush crept up his neck, staining his jaw red. He slammed his eyes shut and turned his head so fast I heard his neck crack.

Amateur. Trying to outplay me? I'm the one who knows the entire script.

I smirked as I unzipped the dress. Declan was a bully. If you fought him, he crushed you. But if you threw the doors wide open? He didn't know what to do with himself.

I took my sweet time changing, watching him squirm in the reflection.

Chapter 4

The limo rolled to a stop at the red carpet. I didn't wait. I slipped my arm through Declan's, locking him into the picture-perfect couple pose.

"Nice performance," he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"I accept tips," I whispered back, smiling at the cameras. "A million should cover it."

Declan fell silent.

Inside, I was electric. I worked the room like I was born in couture, not a damp cell. I charmed the investors. I dazzled the mothers.

The 'poor, lost daughter' narrative? Gone. I was pure, polished gold.

Declan watched me. At first, he looked confused. Then, the look changed. His eyes tracked my movements. Dark. Heavy.

Wait. Was that interest?

A shiver of warning shot down my spine. The second we were back in the privacy of the car, I killed the vibe.

"This was a transaction, Declan," I said, kicking off my heels. "I help you. You help me. Don't overthink it."

Declan didn't answer immediately. He had downed too much scotch. He leaned back against the leather seat, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. His fingers hooked into the knot of his tie, loosening it with a sharp tug.

He looked like a devil in a designer suit.

"Did you really marry me just for the money, Fallon?" His voice was a low rasp.

I looked at him. "Obviously," I said, deadpan. "Did you think it was for your sparkling personality?"

Declan flinched. My honesty was a physical blow. Anger flashed in his eyes, overriding the alcohol. He reached out, snagging my wrist and yanking me across the seat.

"Look at me," he growled. "If you don't like this face, whose do you like?"

I didn't blink. "Xavier's."

The air left the car.

"Xavier?" Declan's grip tightened. "Your best friend's man?"

"So?" I shrugged. "Guard against fire, theft, and best friends. I'm the villain, remember? Stealing is what I do."

Declan stared at me. My moral bankruptcy had actually rendered him speechless.

"Fallon," he breathed. "Your husband is right here."

"And?"

That snapped the last thread of his control. He ripped his tie off and threw it to the floor. Then he took my hand. He slammed it against his chest. Then lower. Against his stomach.

Through the silk shirt, I felt it. The hard, defined ridges of muscle. The heat radiating off his skin. Granite wrapped in luxury. The texture was insane.

My breath hitched. Damn it. Was he really trying to seduce me with his abs?

"What what are you doing?" I tried to pull my hand back.

He didn't let go. He smirked, a dangerous, predatory curve of his lips. He leaned in. He kept coming until my back hit the car door and he was everywhere. His scentexpensive whiskey and cedarfilled my lungs.

"Tell me you like another man to my face again," he whispered against my ear. "Do you have a death wish, Fallon?"

The tension was thick enough to choke on. His thumb brushed my pulse point.

For a secondjust a split secondI thought he might actually kiss me. I thought he might actually want me.

Buzz.

A phone screen lit up the dim cabin. One word.

"Elise."

The spell shattered. The intimacy evaporated.

Declan looked at the screen. He didn't answer. He hit decline and tossed the phone aside. But it was too late. I was sober.

I let out a short, cold laugh. "Doesn't the CEO also love another woman?" I asked softly.

Declan froze. I used the moment to shove his chest. Hard.

"Don't forget, Declan," I said, smoothing my dress. "This is a business merger. Nothing else."

In the original book, he used that line to destroy me a thousand times. Using it on him felt fantastic.

The fallout, however, was icy. Declan spent the next few days treating me like invisible furniture. Silent treatment. Cold shoulders. The works.

Until the day of April's birthday party.

I walked into the living room. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Declan looked up from his tablet, his eyes frosty. "If I don't go, you'll go alone?"

"No," I said, checking my reflection in the mirror. "I'll find a date."

His jaw clenched. "Male or female?"

I turned and looked at him. I didn't say a word. I just gave him a look that questioned his entire genetic lineage and IQ.

The silence screamed louder than any insult.

Chapter 5

Declan exploded.

"You dare find a man to take you? I'll call the police!"

""

Was he insane? Call the police? For what?

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My wife is going to a party with a date."

The second-hand embarrassment would kill me before the cops even arrived. But between the shouting and the threats, I heard the surrender. He was willing to go.

I didn't push my luck. I wasn't here to fight; I was here to win. I plastered a bright, fake smile on my face and grabbed his hand.

"Let's go then."

Declan wasn't expecting the contact. He stumbled a step, pulled off balance by my sudden grip. As we walked to the car, he didn't pull away. He looked down at our interlaced fingers. Then, he looked away.

But I saw it. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

April's birthday party was a spectacle. Xavier had clearly spared no expense to show the world how much he adored her.

But the guest list was telling. Aside from me, everyone else was Xavier's crowd. His business partners. His friends. His world.

April spotted us and dragged Xavier over. The two men stood face to face. The air temperature dropped ten degrees.

Declan extended a hand. "Xavier," he said, his voice smooth but laced with arsenic. "You certainly are charming."

Xavier looked bewildered. April looked at me, confused.

My stomach dropped.

Oh god. He remembered. He remembered my lie about liking "someone like Xavier." Is he going to start a brawl right here?

I flashed an apologetic smile at the couple. Then, I reached around Declan's waist and pinched him. Hard. Right between the ribs.

Declan whipped his head around, glaring at me. Saved by the bellsomeone came over to kiss Xavier's ring.

I grabbed Declan's arm and dragged him into a dark corner. "What are you doing?" I hissed. "You agreed to cooperate."

Declan gave a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "How exactly do you want me to cooperate, Fallon?"

He took a step closer, invading my space. "Should I drape myself over you like he does with her? Should I cling to you?"

He leaned down, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble.

"Or should I call you Wife?"

The word scraped over my nerves like sandpaper. Goosebumps rose on my arms. I stared at him.

He looked jealous. Actually, genuinely jealous. But why? We didn't have that kind of relationship.

Before I could dissect his neuroses, a business partner spotted him. Declan looked annoyed, but money called. He walked off to play CEO.

I didn't wait. I beelined for April. At least Xavier was busy, so I wouldn't have to watch them perform their mating rituals.

April told me she wanted to invite more friends, but the Xavier family name was too intimidating. She was afraid normal people wouldn't fit in. I nodded, smiling politely.

"So," I said, changing the subject. "What about your career? We have resources now. We have connections. We don't have to scrub tables anymore. What do you want to build?"

I was ready to talk strategy. Investments. Power.

April looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. "I don't really have a plan," she said earnestly. "I just want to be with Xavier. He has a sleep disorder, you know. He has terrible insomnia."

She lowered her voice, blushing. "He can only sleep if I'm there holding him."

""

I blinked. I was naive. I tried to talk business with a character written to be a human pacifier.

I wanted to talk about empire-building. She wanted to talk about being a prescription drug substitute.

I opened my mouth, then closed it.

Sickening.

I was choking on their PDA again.

Chapter 6

Then, it got worse.

Xavier finished his business talk and circled back, gravitating toward April like she was the only source of oxygen in the room. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

"Tired, angel?" His voice was molten honey.

April giggled, shaking her head. "Not tired. You're the one working so hard for us."

Xavier: "As long as you're happy, it's worth it."

""

I felt bile rising in my throat.

Enough. Do villainess lives not matter? Why am I forced to watch this low-budget romance movie unfold in 4K resolution?

I turned on my heel, ready to bolt. I almost slammed into a chest.

Cody.

The secondary villain. The slimy backup antagonist.

In the original plot, he was obsessed with April. He wanted to steal her from Xavier but lacked the stats, so he recruited me to be his accomplice in chaos. We were the dynamic duo of destruction.

He smiled. It was the kind of smile that made you want to check your drink for roofies.

"Fallon," he purred.

My instinct was to run. But April? Sweet, clueless April didn't know he was a snake. She thought he was a "nice guy."

She blinked at me from over Xavier's shoulder. Then, she winked. The message was loud and clear: Declan sucks. Upgrade to this guy.

I was speechless. Upgrade? Cody wasn't an upgrade. He was a lateral move to a sewer.

"Let's exchange contacts," Cody said, holding out his phone. "We should grab a drink sometime."

I opened my mouth to lie. My battery is dead. My phone exploded. I joined the Amish.

Suddenly, a hand clamped around my wrist.

There was no hesitation. No gentle tug. He yanked me backward. My back collided with a wall of muscle.

Hard. Unyielding.

Pain shot through my shoulder blades, but the grip on my waist was iron.

I looked up.

Declan.

His eyes were shards of ice, fixed on Cody.

"What are you doing?" Declan asked. His voice was quiet, dead calm. "Poaching in public?"

Cody didn't flinch. His family wasn't top-tier, but they had money. Plus, our families had business deals. Cody figured he was safe.

He knew the rumors. He knew Declan was supposedly pining for Elise. Why would Declan care about a wife he married for a merger? A wife he hated?

I had the same thought. I was just a pawn. If I caused a scene, Declan wouldn't defend me. He'd worry about Elise finding out.

Cody smirked, leaning back on his heels. "Why so aggressive, Declan? I'm just getting Mrs. Gu's number. Hardly poaching."

Declan looked at him. He didn't blink. He didn't posture. He just opened his mouth and dropped a single nuclear warhead.

"Get out."

The word hung in the air. Short. Brutal. Dismissive.

The chatter around us died instantly. Champagne glasses froze halfway to lips. I stared at him.

Cody's face turned a violent shade of red. His smile vanished. "Declan," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I'm showing you respect here. Don't push it."

Declan didn't even acknowledge him. He turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. He ignored the angry man posturing next to us. He ignored the staring crowd.

"Were you going to give it to him?"

His voice was low, laced with a terrifying calm. The look in his eyes said one thing: Nod, and I burn this building down.

I wasn't interested in Cody. I wasn't interested in dying.

I shook my head.

Chapter 7

Declan's jaw loosened slightly. He looked at Xavier.

"That animal is trying to poach from both of us. Watch your back."

He didn't wait for a response. He grabbed my wrist and hauled me away. He had the stride of a marathon runner. I was wearing six-inch death traps.

I kept up for twenty feet. Then, physics took over. My ankle rolled. Pain shot up my calf like a lightning bolt.

"Are you insane?" I hissed, limping. "If Cody pissed you off, go punch him! Why take it out on me?"

Declan stopped. He spun around. He didn't look at my foot. He stared at my face.

"If I hadn't been there," he asked, his voice dead cold, "would you have given him your number?"

"No."

The corner of Declan's mouth started to lift.

"Cody is gross," I added. "But that Nico guy? He looked delicious."

"FALLON!"

Declan looked ready to chew glass. I blinked, looking like a confused angel. He seemed to forget I had eyes.

On the ride over, I saw the text from Elise: Come over tonight?

I saw his thumb tap out one word: Yes.

If his brain was in another woman's bed, he didn't get to police my thoughts.

"Go be busy," I said, waving him off. "I'll call an Uber."

Declan's face turned darker than the asphalt. He shoved me into the car.

"Hospital," he barked at the driver.

Elise texted again. He ignored it. She called.

Declan answered. "What is it?"

"What happened?" Her voice leaked out, tinny and frantic. "Are you drunk? Are you hurt?"

Declan glanced at my swelling ankle. "Someone else is hurt. Not me."

Someone else.

Heh.

I leaned in, a wicked grin plastered on my face. I brought my lips inches from his phone. I mouthed the words, slow and exaggerated: "Hubby. Who is 'someone'?"

Declan hung up in a panic. I rolled my eyes. "Coward. I told you, as long as you pay the fee, I'm a vault."

Declan fell silent.

I didn't expect Elise to chase us to the ER. She stood there, telling me "not to mind." If she was worried I'd mind, why was she here?

It hit me then. In our story, Elise was the villainess. Too bad this was a tragedy, not a rom-com.

Declan stepped out to take a business call. Elise dropped the mask.

"Fallon, have you considered divorce?"

"No."

My answer choked her. She bit her lip. "Can you stand this? The three of us going on like this forever?"

"Why not?" I laughed, looking her up and down. "I didn't marry him for love, Elise. He has you. I can find entertainment elsewhere."

Elise choked on her words. My generosity didn't please her.

Before Declan walked back in, she grabbed a cup of water from the bedside table.

Splash.

She threw it in her own face.

Declan walked in. He saw her dripping hair. He saw the water on her blouse. He turned to me, his eyes blazing.

"Fallon, what the hell did you do?"

Chapter 8

I looked down at the plastic cup Elise had shoved into my hand. Water dripped onto my fingers.

I let out a short, disbelief-filled laugh. Declan heard it. His face twisted.

"What's funny?" He snapped, stepping between us. "Elise came here because she was worried about me. If you don't like her, just say so. Do you have to humiliate her?"

He was ranting. A full-blown lecture before Id even opened my mouth. I didn't interrupt.

Honestly, I wasn't surprised. I was the designated villainess. In his head, I was already guilty. If I was capable of stealing my best friend's man, obviously I was capable of bullying his poor, defenseless mistress.

Villain logic 101: I can destroy others, but no one touches what's mine.

Hypocritical? Sure. But if I was going to be accused of the crime, I might as well enjoy it.

I turned to the water cooler. I filled a fresh cup. Ice cold. To the brim. I turned back