Saving the Villain

"What a shame."

Asher snapped his tongue, typing what he whispered just now, and sent it to Cosette. After sending his message, he reclined on the couch. He held his phone in between his thumb and the side of his index, holding it on the bottom, eyes on the screen.

Much to his surprise, the phone started ringing. His brows furrowed, staring at the name Cosette Blac on the screen.

"What a surprise," he muttered, letting it vibrate while wondering the reason she was suddenly calling him. This wasn't what he expected when he sent the file to her email. Cosette had been particularly distant from him and had always been clear about the line between them. Calling each other wasn't a normal occurrence.

When he realized he hadn't picked up the call, Asher hurriedly tapped the red button. The second he placed his phone in front of his ear, his brows knitted.

"If you hate someone, how will you destroy that person?" she asked without any ceremonious greeting. "Humor me or I might murder my desk by splitting it in half. Answer?"

A giant question mark hovered over Asher's head, tilting his head to the side. Before he could think of anything else, he blurted out.

"Are you alright?"

"Do I sound alright?" her voice was filled with sarcasm. "Nevermind —"

"Depends on the person."

"Huh?"

"If the person you hold a grudge to is someone in a particular professional field, I'll do my utmost to stop that person from practicing his skills. Our company had many affiliates," Asher clarified in a knowing tone, looking up at the shelf in the corner. "There were many things to punish someone without hurting them physically. Crippling them financially and emotionally… is better than putting a hit on that person. Why? Did someone touch your bottom line?"

Cosette, on the other end of the line, frowned. "Is that the only way you can do it?" she asked. She already had that conclusion in her head. Using their connections to suppress someone was no surprise in the world they were moving in.

Something others had always had a misconception about them. Most believed the reason the wealthy people kept venturing into their business was to build their wealth. But that was just a bonus.

What most people in the upper echelon wanted wasn't just a luxurious life and wealth, but power.

"There are other ways, but isn't it more effective?" he argued calmly. "Is there a spider in your room?"

"What?"

"Why do you want to break your desk?" Asher asked, reminding her of the desk.

"Don't —!" Cosette breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Don't remind me about the desk."

"Why? Because there's a spider? Just call for servants…"

"Stop."

Asher arched a brow and smirked. "Will you tell me the reason? It's nice to have you call out of nowhere —"

Clack.

"What a rude girl," he mumbled when she suddenly hung up on him, gazing at the phone. "I heard she had OCD. I wonder if this has something to do with it."

Asher dropped his hand and rested his arm on the armrest. He leaned back, chuckling with his lips closed.

"So rude," he repeated, but there was no trace of irritation in his voice. His good mood, however, slowly declined when a thought suddenly crossed his head.

"If she's going crazy about her desk… will she go to him?" the thought of Cosette hanging up on him just to seek refuge from that 'nobody' didn't sit well with him. All he could do was frown.

Maxen had the upper hand since he was living in the Blac's residence.

"Damn."

*****

Meanwhile, Cosette rolled her eyes and tossed her phone to the bed. She stayed seated on the edge of the mattress.

"I shouldn't have given in to my impulses," she mumbled, pushing herself up. Cosette didn't look back as she hurriedly came out of her room. As she walked away from her room, she thought of how to deal with her condition.

In the past, it would only get worse to the point she wouldn't function if things weren't arranged the way she wanted them. Right now, she was managing, and it was mild.

"Should I contact my therapist again?" she wondered.

Cosette went out of her room because she couldn't stay in her room. But she didn't have any particular destination in mind. Before she realize it, she was already standing in front of Conrad's study room.

"Huh?" she cocked her head to the side, staring at the door, wondering how she got in here. She didn't have anything to tell Conrad, she thought. So, she took a step back. But when she did, she halted.

'So what if I don't have anything to tell him?' she asked herself. Cosette shrugged and without thinking twice, she raised a hand and was about to knock on the door when it opened from the inside.

Her brows rose, locking eyes with Conrad, who looked back at her, stunned.

"Cosette?" Conrad tilted his head a little to the side, eyes glossing over to her stance. "Do you need anything?"

Cosette awkwardly lowered her hand and held her on her back. "Yes."

"What is it?"

"A daily dose of my dad." Her lips stretched from ear to ear while Conrad chuckled weakly. "Where are you going? Hmm?"

"Bed."

"But… it's too early."

Conrad blinked twice lazily, stepping outside the study and closing it behind him. "I promised my daughter I'll be resting."

"Hehe." She giggled, hooking her arm around his arm as they walked away together. "But it's still late for others."

"I'm still adjusting."

"It's alright. I'm not angry." Her mood continuously increased. "So, you're going to sleep?"

"I was planning to, but you came. What do you need?"

"Mhm…" Cosette pondered about it until they eventually — for some reason, arrived in the kitchen.

"I'll make you a midnight snack," Conrad offered, making her smile brightly.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"Well, how can I refuse?" Cosette giddily followed Conrad, sitting on the bar counter while Conrad went to check the fridge. She cupped her face, eyes fixed on her father. While Conrad was moving around the kitchen, Cosette just watched him.

"I never see you cook." She brought up, watching Conrad prepare the ingredients on the kitchen counter.

"I rarely do," he replied without looking back at her.

"Papa, don't poison me."

Conrad paused, raising his eyes at her. "I won't. This is the first time I'm cooking for you."

"It is…" her eyes softened while Conrad set his focus on the ingredients, picking up a knife to cut some potatoes. She watched Conrad in silence, smiling subtly.

'Sixteen years…' she thought. 'If I count the years before coming back here… then that's really a long time.'

There were many things Conrad, and Cosette didn't share in the past. They were practically strangers, barely knowing each other. The only thing that linked them was the blood running through their veins.

So, she was truly grateful she returned with the mind of someone who believed she went into a world of novels. It wasn't like the Cosette days ago and the Cosette now wasn't the same person. Both of them were Cosette.

'We wasted so much time… and there were many things I hadn't told him.'

"Papa," she called, watching his brows raise, but he kept his eyes on the chopping board. "Has anyone told you you really look good?"

Conrad paused, raising his eyes at her once more. "Yes."

"While you are standing behind the kitchen counter?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

Conrad pressed his lips into a thin line and shrugged. "Your mother." He immediately caught the slight surprise in her eyes. Letting out a shallow breath, Conrad refocused his attention on transferring the potatoes that were chopped in cubes to a transparent bowl.

Meanwhile, Cosette pressed her lips into a thin line. From then and until now, Conrad rarely mentions her mother. She didn't ask before as well, assuming it was something she shouldn't ask. After all, Conrad had no contact with anyone from her mother's side.

"I'm sorry for mentioning her." His voice suddenly caressed her ears, making her brows raise. "I know I rarely say anything about her. It was a slipup."

"Why are you saying sorry? It's not like she betrayed you before she died." Cosette chuckled to lighten up the mood before things would grow worse. "Do you hate her?"

Conrad's movements slowed down, hearing things he never thought he would hear from her. He hadn't forgotten about how Cosette once threw a tantrum because someone mentioned her mother. Ever since then, no one ever said a word about her mother as if it was taboo.

"No," he answered after a minute, casting Cosette another look. "What about you? Do you still hate her?"

Cosette smiled subtly, keeping her gaze on him. She blinked ever so slowly, shrugging.

"Yes," she answered under her breath. "I hate her for leaving me and for hurting you."

Her answer slightly took him aback, looking at her in disbelief. But what came out of her mouth even shook him up.

"Although I hate her, it's not like I need her now," she explained and smiled, cupping her face. "I have you as my mother and father. I'm satisfied with that."