The Villain's Sister - Chapter 72

“Your nails are long, perfect for doing them.”

Giselle turned Johan’s hand this way and that, inspecting it.

To Johan, her indifferent attitude was humiliating.

The smell of nail polish spread through the living room.

When the small brush brushed across his nail, red polish was applied.

Johan squeezed his eyes shut and even covered them with his other hand.

“You have remover, right?”

“Of course. Don’t you trust me?”

“Sigh…”

While Johan tried to ignore reality, Giselle painted the rest of his nails red.

“You’ve got a lot of calluses.”

“My previous job was rough.”

“You don’t look like someone who did rough work.”

“What kind of job do you think I did?”

“Well…”

Her blue eyes studied him briefly. Then she lowered her gaze back to the polish and replied, “You speak with a rich accent. At least middle class, right?”

“Yes. A family with nothing but money.”

“Mm. Sounds like you had a difficult childhood.”

“Because of money, messy lawsuits followed, and before they even ended, both of them passed away.”

“I’m sorry. Were you an only child?”

“Yes.”

“Then you must’ve been really lonely. Haa.”

Huuu.

When Giselle blew on his hand, the smell of polish grew stronger.

“I had Raphael.”

Giselle reached for his other hand.

Feeling the touch of her small hand, he had no choice but to give it to her.

“I had Oscar too.”

“Is that bragging?”

“You bragged about money, so I tried it too.”

She shrugged and smiled lightly.

It carried the ease unique to someone for whom painful reality had long become the distant past.

Would the real Giselle ever show this kind of expression one day?

With mixed feelings, Johan asked, “…Are you happy?”

“I’m happy. Johan, I hope you’ll be happy too.”

Whether from the smell of polish or not, his head grew drowsy.

The sensation of her thin fingers against his calluses reached him.

Her hand was very smooth.

When her pinky brushed the side of his hand, it tickled, and the warmth of their overlapping palms seeped in.

Johan glanced at Giselle.

Her slightly lowered head, her long lashes, elegant nose, focused expression.

And her white hand.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He became overly aware of the sound of his own breathing.

All tension began from his hand. All his focus gathered in his fingertips.

Each time their skin brushed, it felt like electricity ran through him. He had to fight hard to keep from lacing his fingers with hers.

Because of that, Johan didn’t realize he was smiling faintly while watching her fluttering lashes.

To be able to see her face up close, even for just a nail, wasn’t such a bad deal.

He had risked his life to come here, but… this wasn’t so bad either.

Because this moment was precious enough.

***

Rustle.

It was a small sound, but enough to wake Johan.

7:13. Whether in reality or in a dream, insomnia was the same.

When he came out after washing, Giselle appeared in workout clothes.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk nearby. Want to come with me?”

“Sure.”

Morning sunlight fell on an unknown city where skyscrapers formed a forest.

The lingering dawn made the air slightly chilly, so the car-filled city felt rather refreshing.

“Is there any subject you want to study? Or work?”

“There is.”

“What is it?”

Johan pretended not to hear and gazed at the skyscrapers flashing in the sunlight.

Despite her appearance that suggested she knew nothing of rebellion, her face was full of dissatisfaction with the world. So Giselle added for his sake.

“If you don’t want to say, you don’t have to.”

His peculiar sensitivity and gloom lingered, but not wanting to dampen the mood, he brushed it aside lightly.

“It’s something I can’t do. Something I mustn’t do.”

“Then you don’t have a second choice?”

This time Johan stared straight at Giselle instead of the skyscrapers.

As if the answer lay with her.

If he confessed, he felt like his face would burn with embarrassment or shyness.

“Studies or jobs are meaningless to me. I don’t place any value on them. I just…”

The unfinished sentence was heavy with hesitation.

Ashamed of himself, Johan lowered his head toward the ground and quietly finished the sentence.

“I wish I could find value in my life.”

“Value?”

“Yes. Because I don’t know the meaning of my existence.”

The faint sound of breathing in the silence felt like scissors judging him.

Excuses had never existed in Johan’s life.

No matter what name he used or what clothes he wore, that fact never changed.

But right now Johan wanted to make excuses.

Because he felt like he had just said something so foolish. As if he looked like a stupid man…

“Mm, Raphael said that because I was precious to him, he didn’t regret killing Andrew at all. And I was shot dead at Raphael’s funeral. But that didn’t feel like a bad ending. Because I met Raphael and Oscar again. So what I’m trying to say is…”

Giselle scraped the ground with her sneaker and shared her old story.

“Make family or friends. If you don’t know how to make your life shine, they will shine it for you instead.”

Sunlight reflected off the messy skyscraper windows and painted the world yellow.

Radiant sunlight fell on Giselle.

She looked like the protagonist standing alone under the spotlight on a stage.

Until now, he had only been an audience member, focusing on the opera and applauding.

But when Giselle sang her aria, he suddenly wanted to sing a duet with her, just the two of them.

It felt like facing an irresistible fate.

***

Johan looked down at Giselle, who blocked his way.

She even leaned against the doorframe and raised her leg sideways.

“Ah, why? Why are you trying to erase it already? The red is pretty.”

“Move aside. I know there’s medicine for removal inside.”

“It’s acetone, not medicine.”

“Whatever it is.”

“No way. This time, I painted it perfectly without brush marks. It’d be a waste to erase it. These days, even men do nails a lot. Just keep it.”

Blink. Blink.

Giselle looked up at him and blinked unnaturally.

Her sparkling eyes and bright expression were directed at him in a way they had never been before, so he hesitated briefly.

‘Insane.’

When he checked his bright red nails, all he could think was that he had to erase them immediately.

About thirty minutes earlier, after their walk, they stopped by a sandwich shop to pack breakfast on their way back.

“Since I showed you how to use a card, go pay.”

Taking the credit card to the counter, he felt like a six-year-old boy running errands.

“…No cucumber, but please add tomato.”

After going through her picky customizations, he ordered exactly as Giselle wanted and handed over the card.

“Ahem, hm.”

The part-timer coughed awkwardly. Johan narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll give you the card.”

The moment he received the receipt and credit card, he saw it.

The part-timer flared his nostrils, his eyes glued to Johan’s nails.

‘My god…’

He was certain this was the most embarrassing, humiliating moment of his life.

Johan squeezed his eyes shut and breathed quietly. His chest wouldn’t calm down.

The part-timer’s expression when handing him the receipt lingered in his vision.

Thanks to that, Johan came back insisting on erasing his nails immediately.

“If you admit and accept it, you can be confident. Say they envied your red nails and wanted to know the brand.”

“This is the limit. Don’t ruin my honor any further.”

When he tried to push through, Giselle spread her arms wide, blocking the doorway.

Johan slid his arms under her armpits and lifted her up easily.

He intended to set her aside, but Giselle was a tough opponent.

She suddenly hugged his neck and clung tightly.

With the distance between them gone, he could smell her scent.

The unique fragrance of her body, the feel of her jet-black hair tickling his cheek made his chest tighten instantly.

The ticklish feeling in his stomach made his breath stop on its own.

Johan froze stiff, unable to hug her or push her away.

Her presence dominated his senses—sight, touch, smell.

‘Like a car with no brakes.’

She was no different from a reckless driver speeding dangerously.

Giselle brought her lips close to his ear.

Her breath brushed against him, sending shivers down his neck and spine.

She whispered, “Then just one commemorative photo.”

Johan was convinced Giselle was a damnable woman.