The Villain's Sister - Chapter 18

The café in front of the police headquarters was unusually quiet.

Normally, officers scheduled for night duty would stop by to grab a coffee, but today was different.

I tilted my empty cup, watching the few remaining drops of coffee trail down to the bottom.

This was already my second cup.

“He’s not coming.”

Johan sneered faintly.

The appointed time was 6 p.m.

Now it was 7:30.

Stood up, completely.

I’d dragged Johan here by blackmail… This wasn’t just embarrassing—it was humiliating.

― Due to the ongoing conflict between Death Adder and Two Star since early this morning, seven civilians have been injured and nineteen gang members killed.

― Death Adder displayed power by hanging four corpses from a tree while…

On the old black-and-white TV in one corner of the café, the daily news was airing.

A few elderly patrons listening to the broadcast exchanged comments.

“Think they’ll catch them? These underground groups have been around for years and they still haven’t mapped them out properly.”

“How did Mist Island end up like this? If it weren’t for the war, the central government wouldn’t be standing by like this.”

― In March of last year, when Black Pistols handed over Lucky Ginger’s boss, Sunshine, to the central government, there was a major shift among Mist Island’s underground organizations.

― This conflict is part of that aftermath, and police suspect the cause is a turf war over the drug trade.

― …Attention is focused on how Black Pistols and Red Shadow will respond to this uprising.

I didn’t want to hear anymore, so I grabbed my bag and stood up.

Not only was the news content irritating, but the static caused by poor transmission was giving me a headache.

Maybe it was naive to think the busiest man on Mist Island today would keep his appointment.

“How about waiting a bit longer?”

“You’re seriously unlikeable, you know that?”

I must look pretty ridiculous right now.

Dragging Johan along, I stepped out of the café to flag a taxi, when a police car stopped right in front of us.

Before I could even be puzzled, Tristan got out of the passenger seat.

He looked completely flustered, and unusually for him, stammered.

“H-Hey, so, today… I mean, I… uh…”

“……”

“…Have you been waiting this whole time?”

I stared at him blankly. Tristan looked utterly exhausted.

They said Black Pistols had crashed the fight during the latter half of the clash with Death Adder, so he must’ve been in the thick of it all morning and busy cleaning up as a cop all afternoon.

That’s probably why he forgot our meeting.

We weren’t even dating, and he barely knew me—how much could he care?

Still, I couldn’t help but feel angry.

Even though I’d nearly been kidnapped, I stubbornly waited at the café for an hour and a half.

Because I wanted something from this man.

“You must’ve been really busy.”

“…Sorry.”

Tristan scratched the back of his head and apologized.

“Really sorry. I’ve got no excuse.”

Even though he apologized, I didn’t feel any better. The problem wasn’t him—it was me.

He glanced at me, then at Johan, who was standing behind me, and cautiously asked, “What happened to your wrist? Did someone grab you too hard or something?”

“I just fell.”

“Good thing it’s not serious. If you haven’t eaten yet—”

I walked past him and got into a taxi that was approaching.

Tristan clamped his mouth shut and followed me with his eyes, then came up to the taxi.

Through the passenger-side window, I could see dust and bloodstains on his deep navy police uniform.

I bit my lower lip without realizing it.

I ignored him to protect my pride, but instead, I had fallen to the lowest of lows.

Today’s conflict was started by Raphael.

And Raphael acted because of me.

And I—like a fool—came to beg for my life from this man.

‘Pathetic.’

Something thick and heavy wrapped around me and dragged me downward.

I felt like a dog wagging its tail for food.

Tristan leaned on the taxi with one arm, lowering his body. He apologized again.

“Get home safe. I really am sorry about today.”

“My name…”

“What?”

“Do you even remember my name?”

Our eyes met—those silvery-gray eyes.

Though devoid of color like a black-and-white film, unlike Raphael or Johan’s, his gaze held a certain warmth.

It was fascinating how someone could give off such a gentle impression without any color.

Only someone with eyes like that could be the protagonist of this world.

I felt like I might cry.

If I were the protagonist, I’d be the most pitiful one in the world.

Tristan replied in a clear voice, “Giselle Rodriguez.”

“Good. At least you remember my name. See you this weekend.”

The taxi drove off.

Watching Tristan grow smaller in the side mirror, I bit the inside of my mouth until it bled to keep from crying.

My situation was miserable, but I didn’t deserve to cry.

Raphael was a criminal, and I lived thanks to him—a partner in crime.

The debris of broken buildings and fallen people on that black-and-white TV, the stiff faces of the police, kept replaying in my head.

Maybe the bad ending I met in the original story is the one that suits me best.

***

I stood in front of the gate, checked myself in the mirror, and tidied up my face.

Behind me, Johan stood with a slouch, waiting for me to open the gate.

“You think I’m a joke, don’t you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“The mistress of Anti-Venom sneaking out to meet a cop under a fake name—it’s hilarious, isn’t it?”

Johan kept his mouth shut. That silence was an answer in itself, and I let out a soft laugh.

“Tell Raphael I was out shopping.”

“You didn’t buy anything, though.”

“Say I ordered a bed.”

“……”

“Don’t tell Raphael anything. If he finds out I met with a cop…”

I brushed my dry lips with the tip of my tongue.

I don’t think Raphael and Black Pistols are close just because they caught Sunshine together.

But having faced life and death together, they must have read each other to some extent.

And in this situation, if Tristan and Raphael met?

Tristan knows Raphael’s face.

Raphael…

‘Even if Raphael doesn’t realize it, if Tristan finds out, everything’s over. The two must not meet.’

I asked Johan, “I’ll pay you double what Raphael gives. Will you work for me?”

“No, thank you.”

“Then I’ll pay you the same. Just tell a few lies to Raphael for me.”

“I’ll refuse that too.”

“How boring. Is Raphael really the kind of man you want to be so loyal to? Don’t you feel like swearing eternal love to me? You can’t possibly be unaffected after seeing my face.”

Johan let out a sigh. A gesture that said I wasn’t worth responding to.

I scoffed and opened the gate.

Whatever his reason for getting close to me, he must be holding onto something incredibly important to Raphael.

As soon as I crossed the gate, the front door flew open and Raphael rushed out.

“You, you…!”

“I left a note. Didn’t you see it?”

“Are you out of your mind, going out on a day like this?”

“Were you worried?”

“Is that even a question!”

Raphael grabbed my shoulders and checked me over.

Making sure I wasn’t hurt, that my complexion was okay.

I sniffled quietly and hugged him.

Beneath my arms, I could feel his huge ribcage and body packed with muscle, front and back.

Raphael, who had been about to scold me, hesitated and asked, “Did something happen out there?”

His scent—sweat and gunpowder—and his warm body heat.

The arms that always held me.

Feeling that embrace again, the pathetic feelings I’d had today suddenly seemed like nothing.

Raphael had thrown his life into the trash for me.

So what couldn’t I do for him?

To some, Raphael may be a devil who should burn in hell, but to me, he’s a beloved family member, a savior who freed me from Andrew’s violence.

For that alone, I could do anything for him.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

“Then stay home. Why’d you go out?”

“To buy a bed.”

Raphael sighed, and for no reason, I burst out laughing.

Clicking his tongue, Raphael muttered,

When will he ever grow up?

“Raphael. Just trust me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whatever it is.”

Even if I have to sell my soul, I’ll save you.

As I felt Raphael’s warmth, I vowed with such intensity it made my stomach churn.