The Villain's Sister - Chapter 18

The cafe in front of the police station was unusually quiet.

Normally, officers scheduled for overnight shifts would stop by for a quick coffee, but today was different.

I watched as the last few drops of coffee slid down the bottom of my empty cup. It was already my second.

“He’s not coming,” Johan remarked with a faintly mocking smile.

The agreed meeting time was 6 PM. It was now 7:30. I’d been stood up completely. I had dragged Johan here through threats… now I felt beyond embarrassed, closer to humiliated.

— This morning’s clash between Death Adder and Two Star left seven civilians injured and 19 gang members dead.

— Death Adder displayed their power by hanging four corpses in a tree…

The old black-and-white TV in the corner of the cafe was broadcasting today’s news. A few elderly patrons were murmuring in conversation as they listened.

“Do you think they’ll ever get a handle on it? It’s been years since the underground groups formed, and they still haven’t mapped it out properly.”

“What happened to Mist Island? If it weren’t for the war, the central government wouldn’t be so hands-off.”

— Last March, Black Pistols handed over Lucky Ginger’s boss, Sunshine, to the central government, shaking up Mist Island’s underground.

— Today’s clash is believed to stem from disputes over the drug trade. Police suspect this turf war caused the violence.

— …The question remains: how will Black Pistols and Red Shadow react to this?

I couldn’t bear to listen any longer. I packed my bag and stood up. It wasn’t just the content of the news—the static-filled broadcast was giving me a headache.

Maybe I’d been naive to think the busiest man on Mist Island today would keep his promise.

“Why not wait a little longer?”

“You… I really don’t like you.”

Clearly, he found my being stood up amusing.

I dragged Johan out of the cafe and to the roadside to hail a taxi. Just then, a police car pulled up in front of us. Before I could process what was happening, Tristan stepped out of the passenger seat, visibly flustered.

“H-Hey, uh, today was, well… I mean, I… ah…”

“……”

“…Have you been waiting this whole time?”

I stared at him silently. Tristan looked utterly exhausted. Reports had mentioned that Black Pistols had intervened in the latter part of the clash, fighting Death Adder. He must have been in the thick of it all morning and spent the afternoon cleaning up as a police officer. He’d been too busy to remember our meeting.

We weren’t actually dating, and I was just someone he’d met a few times. How much attention could he reasonably give me?

Still, I couldn’t help but feel angry. I had nearly been kidnapped and still forced myself to wait for him at the cafe for an hour and a half.

Because I needed something from him.

“You seem really busy.”

“…I’m sorry,” Tristan replied, scratching the back of his head. “I’m really sorry. I don’t have an excuse.”

Even after his apology, 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, before speaking cautiously.

“What happened to your wrist? Did someone grab you?”

“I just fell.”

“Good to hear it’s nothing serious. If you haven’t eaten yet—”

I walked past him and flagged down a taxi. Tristan silently followed me with his eyes and approached the cab as it arrived. Through the passenger window, I saw his navy police uniform stained with dust and blood. Without realizing it, I bit my lower lip.

I’d tried to ignore him to preserve my pride, but all it did was make me feel worse.

Today’s clash had been orchestrated by Raphael, and it was because of me. And like an idiot, I had come here to beg this man for help.

‘How pathetic.’

Something sticky and heavy seemed to wrap around me, dragging me down. I felt like a dog wagging its tail just for a scrap of food.

Leaning his arm on the taxi’s roof, Tristan bent down to apologize again.

“Take care getting home. I really am sorry about today.”

“My name…”

“What?”

“Do you remember my name?”

Our gazes met. His gray eyes were devoid of color, like a black-and-white film, yet they carried a warmth unlike Raphael’s or Johan’s. It amazed me that someone with eyes like that could give such a gentle impression.

Only someone with eyes like his could be the hero of this world. I felt tears welling up.

If I were the protagonist, I’d be the most miserable one imaginable.

Tristan answered firmly, “Giselle Rodriguez.”

“I’m glad you at least remember my name. See you this weekend.”

As the taxi drove away, I watched Tristan grow smaller in the side mirror and bit down on the inside of my lip hard enough to draw blood to stop myself from crying. My situation was pitiful, but I had no right to cry.

Raphael was a criminal, and I was his accomplice, living off him.

Images from the black-and-white TV came back to me—the rubble of destroyed buildings, the fallen bodies, the tense faces of the police.

Perhaps the bad ending I faced in the original story really was the most fitting conclusion for someone like me.

***

Standing in front of the gate, I checked my reflection in the mirror and fixed my expression. Behind me, Johan stood leaning slightly, waiting for me to open the gate.

“You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?”

“Why would you say that?”

“It’s laughable, isn’t it? Anti-Venom’s mistress sneaking around to meet with the police under an alias. Don’t you think so?”

Johan remained silent. That, too, was an answer in itself, and I let out a soft laugh.

“Tell Raphael I’ve been out shopping and just got back.”

“You didn’t buy anything, though.”

“Tell him I placed an order for a bed.”

“……”

“Don’t tell Raphael anything. If he finds out I’m meeting with the police…”

I ran my tongue over my dry lips. Just because Raphael and Black Pistols had worked together to capture Sunshine didn’t mean they were close. But in the life-or-death situations they’d faced, they must have learned something about each other.

What would happen if Tristan and Raphael met under these circumstances? Tristan knew Raphael’s face. As for Raphael…

‘It’s not just about Raphael finding out. It’s about preventing Tristan from gaining the upper hand. The two of them meeting must be avoided at all costs.’

I asked Johan, “I’ll pay you double whatever Raphael is giving you. Will you work for me?”

“No, thank you.”

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

“I’ll decline that too.”

“How boring. Is Raphael really the kind of man you want to pledge loyalty to? Don’t you ever feel like swearing your undying love for me? You can’t look at my face and feel nothing.”

Johan sighed, his expression making it clear he didn’t find the conversation worth engaging with. I scoffed and opened the gate.

Whatever his reasons for approaching me, Raphael clearly held something significant and dear in his hands.

As soon as I stepped past the gate, the front door burst open, and Raphael stormed out.

“You, you…!”

“Didn’t you see the note I left?”

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

“Were you worried?”

“What do you think?!”

Raphael grabbed my shoulders, scanning me for injuries or signs of distress. I sniffled softly and wrapped my arms around him. Beneath my arms, I could feel his massive chest and the tightly packed muscles that filled his frame.

Raphael, who had been ready to scold me, hesitated and asked in confusion, “Did something happen outside?”

The scent of sweat and gunpowder mixed with his warm body heat. The embrace that always held me.

Feeling his arms around me, the pathetic emotions I’d experienced today seemed insignificant. Raphael had thrown his life into the gutter for me. What couldn’t I do for him?

To some, Raphael might be a demon destined for hell. But to me, he’s my beloved family and the savior who freed me from Andrew’s violence. That alone makes me willing to do anything for him.

“Nothing happened. I’m just tired.”

“Then why didn’t you stay home?”

“I went out to buy a bed.”

Raphael sighed, and for no reason, I found it funny and started laughing.

When will you ever grow up?

Clicking his tongue, Raphael muttered under his breath.

“Raphael, just trust me.”

“Trust you about what?”

“About everything.”

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

Feeling Raphael’s warmth, I swore with a fervor that churned my stomach.