Ascension Of The Villain

Chapter 237: Grateful For You

Iyana let the information settle, her chest rising and falling with each grounding breath. "Okay... okay…" she whispered, licking her bottom lip as her heart raced faster. "Now that I know the truth, I can steer things in the right direction to get the verdict in your favor. So, first things first, we need to…"

"Kill the witnesses?" Vyan interjected, as casually as if he were suggesting lunch.

"No," she shot back, giving him a hard look. "We are not committing three more murders to cover up one crime." She dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers tracing absent patterns along her sleeves as she began pacing, her mind whirling. "Alright, think, think... What can we do..."

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed the low chuckle slipping past Vyan's lips.

Her eyes snapped up to him. "And what, exactly, do you find so funny?"

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Vyan covered his mouth, stifling his laughter. "It's just... I can't get over how quickly your integrity goes out the window when it comes to me."

She scowled. "You should have thought about my integrity before you decided to go off killing people."

He raised an eyebrow, the barest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. "Except, I didn't."

"What?" She blinked, her mind backpedaling as she processed his words. "But you just said—" Her face flushed with realization, her nose flaring in annoyance. "You idiot! Are you seriously messing with me right now?"

"Well, that's what you get for doubting me," he replied smugly. "I would have told you the moment I stepped back into your office if I had committed a murder on my way there."

"Then, where were you for those twenty minutes?" she demanded, hands on her hips, still skeptical.

"Tia spotted me in the courtyard and dragged me aside to talk," he muttered, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice at the mention of his aunt.

Iyana groaned, leaning her head against the cold metal bars. "You couldn't have just said that when you got back?"

"I was going to," he replied, shrugging. "But then I got sidetracked looking for your earring. By the time I remembered, it was too late."

She exhaled, finally letting relief sink in. "Alright then. Since you are not guilty, we will figure out a way to prove it—no matter what it takes..."

Vyan hummed in agreement, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her head, patting it like he was trying to calm a flustered cat.

"Setting that aside," she grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist with just enough pressure to startle him. He winced theatrically, overplaying the pain. "How dare you joke about something like that?"

"Ow, ow!" he whimpered, looking at her with exaggerated distress. "I didn't know you would actually believe me!"

"Well, you are a good actor. Not my fault," she replied in a fierce whisper, giving his wrist another playful twist.

"I surrender! Please, stop!" he cried, and she let go with a satisfied grin.

"You endure actual torture without a peep, and yet this—this is what makes you cry out?"

"I am extremely delicate right now, my lady, thanks to Benedict and Clyde's care. So, please handle me with caution," he replied, putting on a pout and batting his lashes like a bashful damsel.

She smirked, crossing her arms. "Too bad. Fragile things only make me want to break them. Maybe I will wrestle you when you are out of here."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. "I would be up for wrestling on the bed."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Really? You are choosing now to be shameless?"

He flashed a disarming grin. "Well, if it helps, the only reason I can joke around is because I am confident you will get me out of here. So, you can say, I am just savoring the moment. It's a nice little break from, you know, the usual work madness."

She paused, blinking at him in something between disbelief and admiration, before a smile tugged at her lips. "You really are something else."

He took her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. "What time is it?" he asked softly out of the blue.

Iyana glanced around, searching as if a clock might be hiding in the shadows. "I don't know. I haven't had the presence of mind to check. Why, where is your pocket watch?"

"They took it," he murmured, trailing tender kisses from her knuckles down to the inside of her wrist, each one slower than the last.

"What? Why would they—"

"It doesn't matter," he smoothly cut her off. "It's after midnight, anyway."

"Yes, I suppose it must be." She frowned, puzzled. "But why does it matter?"

A warm smile spread across his lips, and he lifted his head, gazing into her eyes with an intensity that made her heart skip. He reached up, his fingers finding the nape of her neck, and she closed her eyes, letting herself be pulled into a gentle, lingering kiss through the cold metal bars between them.

When he finally pulled back, she opened her eyes, meeting his wine-red orbs that held a soft, unwavering affection. It was that rare, beautiful smile he reserved just for her, like a secret he shared only on the most special of days.

Special days—oh.

"Happy birthday, my love," he whispered.

A tearful smile bloomed on her lips.

He sighed, regret clouding his face. "I am so sorry I didn't get to surprise you. I had grand plans, you know. A whole speech prepared, even."

She squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. "It's alright. You can always surprise me later."

He chuckled, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I had it all memorized, and now, I can't remember a word. My mind is a complete blank."

She smiled, resting her forehead against the bars. "Just speak from your heart. I would love anything you have to say."

He took a deep breath, his gaze holding hers. "Alright, then. I guess I will start by saying how grateful I am that you were born into this world, Iyana."

Her breath caught as a sense of déjà vu washed over her—those very words, spoken before, echoing back to her.

"You are… everything. Strong, beautiful, clever, hard-working, and yes, a little stubborn," he teased, his voice softening. "You are loving, nurturing, understanding, and somehow, all these things at once. And to think—I got to meet you, and to be loved by you? It's almost too unbelievable. So… thank you.

Thank you for being born, and, if I might dare say, for being born for me."

Tears traced a path down her cheeks as a soft sob slipped from her, her heart swelling with each of his words. But as she closed her eyes, dark memories began to resurface, and the ghosts of voices long buried clawed their way back up:

"Mother should never have sacrificed her life to bring a heartless monster like you into this world."

"You want the truth? I think you would be better off dead. Yes, that's it. I wish every day that you were dead."

"You know, dear, it would hardly matter if you didn't show up for breakfast. No one would even notice you are gone."

"You always ruin everything! I curse the day you were born into this world!"

Suddenly, Vyan's voice pulled her back from the abyss—like he always seemed to do. "Iyana, are you alright?" His tone was gentle, his face creased with worry. "Did I say something wrong?"

She shook her head, attempting to steady her breaths. "No, it's just… Your words reminded me of my disastrous sixteenth birthday… after which you told me some things that would forever remain carved in my heart. I just didn't realize how much I needed to hear them again."

As the bitter memories swirled, brighter ones began to seep in, illuminating the darkness.

"My lady, please don't shed tears over their cruelty. They were the ones in the wrong, holding that gala for Lady Sienna as if it were her special day, ignoring that it was your birthday. You only reacted as anyone else would…"

"You know," Vyan had said with a reassuring smile, "I, for one, am grateful you are here, that you were born into this world. The world is richer because you are in it. And… honestly, I couldn't ask for a finer person to serve."

She looked into Vyan's eyes, feeling a warmth that anchored her, as if he, too, was lost in those same memories. Perhaps that's why he always made such grand plans for her birthday, knowing full well the painful memories it held.

Her stepmother and step-sister would always find a way to overshadow her, painting her as the villain for daring to feel. And her brother always made sure to be extra cruel to her on this day—holding her responsible for their mother's death.

The first fourteen birthdays of her life were extremely lonely, the fifteenth was slightly better with Vyan's company even though she didn't feel comfortable enough to share deep stuff with him yet. Her sixteenth birthday was the one that she had let her guard down completely in front of her.

After that, she had never had to cry alone, and for that, she would be eternally grateful.

For the next two years after that, in his own thoughtful way, he had made her birthday a little brighter, a little softer, and filled with the kind of love she never knew she could have.

No, she hadn't known the warmth of family love, but his love—devoted and unshakeable—had made up for that and more.

"If only I could hug you now," Vyan whispered, casting a frustrated glance at the prison bars that separated them.

"Me too," she murmured with a bittersweet smile. "My birthday must be cursed," she added with a half-hearted laugh. "Something dreadful always happens on this day. It figures you would end up here today of all days."

"Those things aren't connected," he replied, almost offended.

"They might be, you don't know that," she teased, feeling a small spark of her usual humor return.

"But I do know," he asserted. "Your birthday is the best day of the year."

"Are you sure you want to say with a murder charge hanging over your head?"

"Like I said, it's a little vacation for me," he responded haughtily.

"You know what? I don't like that you are on vacation while I am working like a dog. I have to get you out of there as soon as possible."

"Wow, you jealous woman. What happened to being happy for me?"

"What?" she let out scandalously. "I would just like the two of us to be happy together."

"That does sound better," he smirked. "So, in that case, we should perhaps come up with a plan to end my vacation."

"Let's make it happen then, Your Grace?" She raised his hand, and he met it with his, their palms colliding in a crisp high-five that echoed through the hallway.