Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 32: A Smile Beneath the Blade

A Smile Beneath the Blade

Naturally, it’s the assassins under the protagonist!

Out of nowhere, it hit Julian D’Aurelius - sharp, sudden, like ice down his back.

A slight move came without thinking, body edging sideways across the slick couch surface, creating just a breath of space from the person at his side. From somewhere below, sound pulsed up through the ground, deep notes rattling windows and ribs, yet inside his head, blood hammered harder than any beat.

At first, his idea was just to stay quiet.

He did not turn away. Right there, inside the tiger’s territory, he sat down close beside it.

"What’s wrong, Young Master Julian? Are you uncomfortable somewhere?"

Lina Ashford spoke soft, yet each word carried weight beneath its calm surface.

In the flicker of disco glow, strands of her emerald hair caught light like leaves breathing under twilight. A quiet spark lit up her violet, catlike eyes - not quite amusement, not quite challenge. Over pale skin, the sheer top draped without weight, moving only when she did. Below it, the dark pleather skirt followed every shift of her stance, sharp but unhurried. What stood there wasn’t just presence - it was calm danger wearing grace.

"Sitting too long," Julian said with an awkward chuckle. "My butt hurts a bit."

A soft chuckle escaped him, yet tension held his spine tight. Stillness followed the sound like an afterthought.

[Don’t come any closer!!! One must not forget one’s original intention!] 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

[What’s your goal? Is it to have no cavities? Of course not.]

[Your goal is our Mike Valquin, Young Master Valquin. Yes, go flirt with him, got it?]

[Better him than me. Brother, don’t worry, Big Brother will remind you to run away abroad later, won’t leave you to die.]

Lina’s smile froze for half a breath.

This guy... was actually worried about his friend?

But that wasn’t what unsettled her.

How did he know?

The Seductive Vixen—her codename within Obsidian Wing—had been assigned to the Valquin household. The plan was clean, elegant, ruthless. She would draw Mike in, control him, then use him as a blade to cut another young master. Poison. Misdirection. Family war. Chaos. And from that chaos, the Obsidian King would ascend as the shadow ruler of Valemont.

And yet this rich, supposedly brainless second-generation heir was narrating the mission in his head like he’d read the script.

Lina kept her smile steady, though something cold slid down her spine. That wasn’t possible. No one outside Obsidian Wing knew the structure of their operations. No one knew the King’s long game.

Julian’s gaze drifted lazily across the room, champagne glass twirling between his fingers. His posture screamed disinterest, but his eyes were sharp—too sharp. Observing. Measuring.

Lina placed a delicate hand lightly on Julian’s thigh, smiling as if nothing were amiss.

"No problem," she said softly. "If you’re uncomfortable, I can massage it for you. I majored in medicine."

Her fingers rested there—warm, deliberate.

Julian glanced down at her hand, then at her face. His lips curved faintly. "Medicine?" he murmured. "That explains the steady pulse."

Her heartbeat didn’t stutter. Years of training kept it calm. "I’m glad you noticed."

Across the table, music thumped beneath the private lounge’s muted lighting. Crystal chandeliers glimmered like watchful eyes. Mike Valquin leaned back in his seat, grinning like a boy who thought the world adored him.

"Wow, Big Brother," Mike Valquin laughed from the side, blonde hair tousled under the neon lights. "You’re really lucky. Lina has never been this nice to me."

Julian didn’t look at him immediately. He let the silence stretch just enough to be uncomfortable.

"Luck?" Julian finally said, voice light. "You think this is luck?"

Mike blinked, then laughed again. "What else would it be?"

Lina adjusted slightly, her hand pressing a fraction deeper—not enough to be obvious, just enough to assert presence. Her perfume was subtle, floral with something darker beneath it. A calculated choice. Everything about her was calculated.

"Maybe Big Brother just has better taste," she teased, tilting her head toward Mike. "Or maybe he simply understands how to appreciate people."

Mike pouted dramatically. "Hey, I appreciate you! I invited you tonight, didn’t I?"

"Yes," Lina replied gently. "You did."

Her eyes flickered back to Julian. There it was again—that faint, knowing look. Not desire. Not even suspicion. Recognition.

As if he were watching a performance he’d already memorized.

Julian leaned back, his arm resting along the back of the sofa behind her. Not touching. Not claiming. Just close enough to shift the dynamic.

Julian tipped his head back and finished the rest of his drink in one smooth swallow. The burn of the liquor slid down his throat, sharp and grounding. Without hesitation, he reached for the bottle, angling it toward his glass to pour another.

Lina moved faster.

"Young Master Julian," she said gently, her hand closing around the bottle before the amber liquid could spill. Her smile was soft, attentive—almost reverent. "Please... allow me to serve your drink."

The gesture was flawless. Elegant. Devoted.

Mike let out a low whistle from across the table. "Bro, you’re seriously lucky," he laughed. "Lina serving you personally? I’ve known her for months and she’s never done that for me."

Lina ignored him, her focus steady as she lifted the bottle and poured. The liquor streamed neatly into Julian’s glass, her wrist precise, controlled. Not a single drop wasted.

Julian smiled outwardly, the picture of relaxed amusement.

Inside, however, his thoughts were far less charitable.

[Lucky, my ass! Do you want this blessing—serving wine with the hand of this vixen?]

He accepted the glass from her fingers without breaking eye contact.

Julian forced a grin.

"Miss Lina is indeed considerate," he said lightly, shifting just enough to move her hand without making it obvious.

Lina’s lips curved faintly.

"That’s good," she replied smoothly. "Let’s continue drinking and chatting."

She raised her glass.

Julian nodded, clinking glasses with her and Mike. The crystal chimed softly beneath the roaring music. He took a sip, mind racing.

According to the original plot, Evan—ambitious as ever—had returned to Valemont with a singular objective: crush the four great families and seize control of the city.

Control the De Dominicis.

Control the Valquin.

Control the Aurevale.

Control the last household.

With those pillars under him, Valemont would kneel.

To achieve that, seduction alone wasn’t enough. Obstacles had to disappear.

Mike Valquin was one such obstacle.

So Obsidian Wing had dispatched elites.

The Seductive Vixen—Lina Ashford—was responsible for the Valquin household.

After gaining Mike’s trust, she would ensnare him, then orchestrate conflict between heirs. Poison would follow. The Valquin family would suspect another household. War would erupt. And Evan would step in as savior, gathering power from the ashes.

Julian inhaled slowly.

After replaying the storyline in his head, he finally felt the tightness in his chest loosen.

[Got it, Obsidian Wing has strict rules. They can’t change missions at will.]

[This woman and I are just playing along. Her real targets are Mike and another unlucky guy.]

[Since that’s the case, I don’t need to panic. Just play my role well and make her feel disgusted enough to leave.]

Across from him, Lina’s eyes darkened slightly.

Obsidian Wing’s internal regulations were among its most guarded secrets. Outsiders knew nothing of their structure, let alone operational constraints.

And yet this man spoke of it as casually as gossip.

This wasn’t ventriloquism.

This wasn’t coincidence.

He was thinking—and she was hearing.

Her pulse slowed deliberately. Calm. Always calm.

"Stay composed," she reminded herself inwardly. "Even if he knows something, he cannot prove it. And if necessary, I can disappear tonight."

For now, she would observe.

Because this man was also marked in Evan’s broader design.

Julian adjusted his posture.

Then, deliberately, he leaned closer to her. The scent of perfume and faint alcohol brushed his senses. His golden eyes gleamed with exaggerated hunger, his smile turning shameless.

If she wanted to play predator, he would play prey.

"Miss Lina," he drawled, voice low and intentionally lecherous, "you’re so beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?"