Page 57 of Villainous Rise

And across the room, Cipher had stopped moving entirely. He hadn’t touched his wine in ten minutes, hadn’t shifted position, hadn’t even seemed to breathe.

This is exactly what I was afraid of.

I signaled discreetly for another glass of wine and nearly sighed with relief when the waiter finally approached to take our order. My stomach had been growling for the past twenty minutes, thankfully masked by Valor’s endless monologuing.

“I’ll have the seared scallops to start,” Valor said, “followed by the deconstructed Wellington. Rare, of course.” He handed the menu back without even looking at the waiter, his eyes fixed on Cassandra.

When my turn came, I ordered the burrata appetizer and the wild mushroom risotto. Thank goodness this was covered by the Alliance expense account because the menu prices were astronomical.

“And how did your first date go?” Cassandra asked, leaning forward eagerly. “I understand it was quite the romantic evening.”

Valor’s hand moved from my knee to my shoulder as he put his arm around me, pulling me slightly closer in what looked like an affectionate gesture. “It was magical,” he said, his voice dropping to an intimate tone that made my skin crawl. “I took Annie to the rooftop garden of my penthouse. Had it decorated with thousands of fairy lights. She was speechless.”

I was speechless alright, with shock at this blatant fabrication.

“It was certainly unexpected,” I managed.

Our appetizers arrived, and I stared down at my plate in dismay. Three of the smallest balls of burrata I’d ever seen, artfully arranged with micro-greens, balsamic pearls and several croutons. It was beautiful, yes, but wouldn’t take the edge off my hunger.

“Annie was quite overwhelmed,” Valor continued, cutting into his equally minuscule scallops. “I believe her exact words were that she’d never experienced such thoughtfulness from anyone before.”

I took a large sip of wine to avoid responding.

“And where do you see this relationship going?” Cassandra asked.

Valor’s hand slid down my arm, his fingers intertwining with mine.

I chewed my tiny morsel of appetizer very slowly, letting Valor field that landmine.

He leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting to what I recognized as his “contemplative Hero” face, one eyebrow slightly raised, lips curved in a thoughtful half-smile.

“Where is our relationship going?” He repeated Cassandra’s question. “I believe when you find someone truly special, you don’t rush. Annie and I are building something meaningful. But,” Valor continued, oblivious to the silent threat across the room, “I will say that when you know, you know. And sometimes the most unexpected connections become the most profound.”

I groaned inwardly. This was veering dangerously close to proposal territory, and we hadn’t even received our main course.

Just as I was deciding how much wine I’d need to survive the next few minutes, a sharp beeping sound cut through the ambient restaurant noise. Valor’s communicator.

He checked it with a frown, then stood up with theatrical reluctance. “I’m so sorry, ladies. Duty calls.”

Thank fuck.

“Of course,” Cassandra said, switching off her recorder. “The city needs its Hero.”

Valor turned back to me, his expression suddenly softening into something that looked alarmingly genuine. He stepped closer, and I realized with horror that he was leaning in for what appeared to be a goodbye kiss.

I widened my eyes at him in panic, silently communicating that if his lips touched any part of my face, I would personally ensure he’d need his healing abilities. He seemed to catch my meaning because he smoothly diverted to taking my hand instead.

“Until next time,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the back of my hand in a lingering kiss that made my skin crawl.

From my peripheral vision, I caught movement at Cipher’s table. A sharp, aborted motion like he’d started to rise before forcing himself back down.

I maintained my smile until Valor exited the restaurant, his cape dramatically billowing behind him. Cassandra packed up quickly, her interest in me evaporating the moment Valor was out of sight.

“Well, I think I’ve got everything I need,” she said, already standing. “The piece will run next Sunday.”

Within minutes, I was alone at the table, exhaling deeply as the tension finally began to leave my shoulders. The table felt wonderfully peaceful without Valor’s overwhelming presence.

I glanced at my half-empty wine glass and decided I deserved to finish it in peace. Maybe I could even order dessert, a small compensation for enduring that performance.