Page 94 of Villainous Rise

“You’ll probably want to shower,” he sighed, his voice rough around the edges.

I nodded. My body felt boneless, my mind blissfully quiet for the first time in months.

“Are you going to fuck me in the shower?”

Cipher’s eyebrow arched. “Would you like that?”

I nodded again. “I don’t want gentle. I can’t do gentle again.” I tried to make it sound commanding, tried to grasp the freedom and power he was offering me, but the words came out all wrong, desperate instead of demanding.

God, he could probably hear it, how much I wanted to feel numb to everything but the sensation of him pounding into me until I couldn’t remember anything, let alone all the reasons I should hate him.

His eyes darkened as he studied my face. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. “I’ll fuck you whenever and wherever you fucking want.”

His hand slid around my neck. “But don’t think for a second that means I’m not going to give you gentle sometimes too.” He tightened his grip. “Because you need both, Annie. Even if you’re not ready to admit it yet.”

“Shower,” I managed. “Now.”

I stood frozen in Cipher’s walk-in closet, water from my shower-damp hair dripping onto my shoulders. My body still buzzed with satisfaction after our shower—where he’d delivered exactly what I’d asked for, fucking me against the wall until my legs gave out.

But now, all that lingering pleasure evaporated as I stared at the section of his closet that stopped me cold.

My section. A dedicated space filled with clothes in my size, my style, my colors.

I reached out, fingers brushing against a silk blouse in the exact shade of blue I always gravitated toward. Tags still attached. Unworn. Waiting.

For me.

“You bought all this before...” I couldn’t finish the sentence. Before I discovered his betrayal. Before everything fell apart.

“Yes.” Cipher leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His body was still slightly damp, a towel slung low around his hips.

“Why didn’t you get rid of them?”

Cipher didn’t answer.

I swallowed hard, trying to process what this meant. While I’d been forcing myself to forget him and move on, he’d kept a shrine to my absence. A space carved out and waiting, as if he’d known I’d eventually return.

“If they’re not to your liking, I can get something else,” he finally said, misinterpreting my silence.

“No, they’re...” I cleared my throat. “They’re good.”

I grabbed the first things my hands touched, a simple black shirt and jeans. I needed to escape the weight of what the closet represented. The weight of knowing that while I’d been trying to erase him from my life, he’d been keeping space for me in his.

“You don’t have to wear that if you don’t want to,” Cipher said, his eyes tracking my movements as I clutched the clothes against my chest.

“It’s fine.” I turned away, unable to look at him or the closet anymore. “Everything’s fine.”

But nothing was fine. Not the clothes. Not his silent admission. Not the way my heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to crack them open and expose the bloody mess underneath.

I was still struggling with the zipper of my borrowed jeans when Cipher emerged from the closet fully dressed in dark slacks and a button-down shirt. The transformation from naked Villain to polished businessman happened so fast it gave me whiplash.

“How annoyed would your henchmen be if I called for a ride home?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

Cipher’s brow furrowed. “It’s their job to drive you if you request it.” He straightened his cuffs. “But why would you call them when I can take you home myself?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” His tone left no room for argument, that familiar commanding edge creeping back in.