CHAPTER 81: VILLAIN OR PLAYBOY

Rosalia — POV

I shot up from the bed like I’d been electrocuted.

For a moment, I genuinely thought lightning had struck me—my entire body jolted upright, tense, breathless, overwhelmed. My lungs burned as if the very air had turned into molten fire.

"Oh dear God—I nearly stopped breathing," I whispered, clutching my wildly beating heart, feeling it hammer against my ribs like a frantic creature trying to escape.

My chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven movements. I placed a trembling hand where his fingers had brushed earlier. Even now, long after the moment had passed, the warmth lingered there—soft, haunting, impossible to forget.

Still warm.

Still tingling.

Still so unreal that my brain refused to accept it.

And then—remembering Cassel’s warm, confident, unbearably gentle touch—my mind exploded in a silent, emotional supernova. The memory hit me like a tidal wave, drowning me instantly.

I found myself smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, stretching painfully as though my face wasn’t used to this level of delirious happiness. I pressed both hands against my cheeks, trying to physically restrain the ridiculous grin threatening to split my face in half.

"Is it really possible... to become Cassel’s lover?" I whispered, half hysterical, half euphoric. "My favorite villain’s lover?"

The question echoed inside me, bouncing around like a wild bird that had finally escaped its cage. The more the thought seeped in, the more my imagination spiraled into places I never intended it to go.

I was discovering entirely new layers of shamelessness within myself—layers I truly didn’t know existed. Apparently, I was the type of person who—when given an inch—immediately wanted an entire kingdom.

Being Cassel’s lover? Yes. Absolutely. Immediately. Right now. No hesitation.

Then his partner. Then his wife. Then the mother of his children—

"Aaah—I can’t."

The sheer embarrassment crushed me. I collapsed face-first into the bed, burying myself under a pillow so violently it bounced. My entire body curled into itself, knees tucked in, toes curled, fingers gripping the sheets as though I could physically hide from my own thoughts.

"What’s wrong with you, Rosalia? Get a grip. You sound like a complete pervert."

My voice came out muffled through the pillow. I inhaled deeply, exhaled loudly, inhaled again—each breath shaky, desperate, frantic. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, too full of the suffocating scent of my own humiliation.

"Cassel will be so scared, no d—"

"Who will be scared?"

I froze.

My blood turned to ice. My breath died in my throat. My soul separated from my body so fast it achieved spiritual escape velocity.

A deep, rich, masculine voice echoed right above my head.

That voice. His voice. Right here.

My soul left not only my body—no. It left the building, booked a flight, and emigrated to another continent.

"Ah!" I screeched, launching myself off the side of the bed with the strength of pure panic. I didn’t simply roll—I hurled myself into the air like a flying squirrel attempting escape.

But instead of faceplanting into the floor—

Strong arms caught me.

Warm. Steady. Solid. Familiar.

I opened my eyes.

And there he was.

"C-Cassel..."

His name escaped me in a breath that was barely a whisper.

"Why are you never paying attention?" he murmured.

His voice... God, that voice.

It truly sounded like a fallen angel’s—smooth, deep, dark, warm. It had the softness of velvet, the weight of thunder, and the intimate closeness of a whisper held directly against the skin. Like flowing water and molten magma at the same time—contradictions that made sense only because they belonged to him.

And the worst part—the absolutely devastating part?

He was holding me.

Again.

My dangling body rested in his arms while he knelt beside the bed. One of his arms held my back; the other supported under my legs, steady and unshakably strong. My hands, acting without permission, had instinctively grabbed his collar, pulling it slightly open.

I could see the skin beneath—pale, smooth, maddeningly perfect.

My first thought: This is a priceless feast for the eyes.

My second thought: I am absolutely a shameless pervert who needs therapy—intensive therapy, for at least twelve consecutive months.

My gaze glued itself to his chest as though magnetized. No matter how desperately I begged my treacherous eyes to look away, they refused. My touch-starved brain was malfunctioning on a catastrophic level, short-circuiting with every heartbeat.

Then—

A soft laugh rumbled above me.

It vibrated through his chest and into my bones, sending a shiver down my spine. I wanted to dissolve. Evaporate. Turn into mist.

Cassel took my hand.

My body locked up, stiff as stone. Mortified beyond human capacity, I didn’t resist when he gently pried my fingers off his collar. I expected him to push me away—to stand, to create distance, to reestablish the boundaries I had so clearly violated.

He didn’t.

Instead—

He guided my hand inside his shirt.

Placed it directly against his chest.

His bare chest.

The world detonated.

My jaw fell open so wide I was genuinely concerned it might dislocate.

His skin was warm—warmer than I expected. His heartbeat was steady beneath my palm, the quiet, powerful rhythm of someone utterly in control. His muscles were firm, sculpted, impossibly smooth beneath my trembling fingers.

When my hand accidentally brushed a little to the side—touching even more of that sculpted expanse—I nearly passed out on the spot.

Slowly—terrifyingly slowly—I lifted my head.

Cassel was smiling.

Smiling.

At me.

With a raised eyebrow and a look that screamed: I’m enjoying this far too much.

My brain melted. Evaporated. Turned into steam and fled the scene entirely.

Then Cassel leaned in.

Fast.

His lips brushed mine.

Or, well...

... can I even call it my lips?

My mouth was open in an O-shape, so when his lips met mine, the kiss that should have been a simple peck ended with Cassel’s lips brushing my tongue—inside my mouth—for a split second.

That cold sensation hit me so hard I reacted too late, slamming my mouth shut in panic.

A shiver tore through me from head to toe.

My eyes widened, then squeezed shut.

I slammed my mouth shut too late, heat exploding across my face.

"You—you... Cassel, you really—"

Cassel licked his lip slowly.

"So sweet," he murmured.

My entire existence short-circuited.

The world collapsed around me.

Time stopped.

Everything vanished except him.

---

Erato-san has something to say:

Erato: Mr. Cassel, you are out of character again. Where is the terrifying final villain? Why are you acting like a seductive Playboy?!

ML: "Did you say something?"

The poor author was dragged away and is now crying in a corner.