Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

"I’ll make him regret it," Simon promised.

Joanna Kennedy was still sullen, her face taut as she ignored him, but Simon didn’t say another word.

...

In the past, Simon would have softened his voice and awkwardly coaxed her a little more. Joanna suppressed the dull ache in her heart, doing her best not to get too upset.

Joanna knew Simon didn’t mean it. He was just under the influence of the "Emotional Reversal." Perhaps, if you traced it back to the source, she was the one who had made Simon suffer this way.

Logically, she knew she shouldn’t blame Simon. Emotionally, however, she couldn’t help but feel hurt. Joanna was keenly aware that Simon had spoiled her rotten. Now, even the slightest coldness from him felt unbearable.

She took a deep breath, feeling a sudden wave of helplessness. "I’m not blaming you..." she mumbled.

With her head bowed, she looked strangely docile and aggrieved.

Simon was silent for a moment. Then, mimicking a familiar gesture, he pressed the pad of his thumb to the corner of her slightly reddened eye, stroking it gently.

...

Joanna’s long lashes trembled, and the corners of her eyes grew even redder.

As they reached the entrance of the banquet hall, they were met by Jack Warren, who had been waiting for them. Simon glanced at the dazed girl, then whispered something to Jack, who nodded and departed.

The moment Simon stepped into the banquet hall, the business magnates in mid-conversation immediately flocked over to greet him, respectfully showering him with "Mr. Lockwood" and "I’ve heard so much about you..."

It was crowded, so Joanna took the opportunity to slip away from Simon’s side.

From the center of the crowd, Simon, his face impassive, scanned the room for a few seconds. His eyes followed Joanna as she headed for the cake table. Only then did he retract his gaze and turn back to the group, responding to them in a flat tone.

Joanna nibbled on a dessert to soothe her stifled mood, idly watching the people come and go.

A few tycoons, faces often seen in the financial papers, had all congregated around Simon, chatting with beaming smiles.

The man at the center of their orbit was handsome and refined, his expression polite yet distant. For every few sentences they spoke, he would offer only a few, short, cold words in reply.

’So cold,’ Joanna thought resentfully. ’At least he’s equally cold to everyone.’

She scanned the crowd, and suddenly, something felt off. There were titans from every industry—some who were media regulars, others who were more private and whose faces were unfamiliar.

Joanna’s brow furrowed. ’Where’s Charles Jennings?’

It belatedly dawned on her that Charles Jennings wasn’t there.

Joanna frantically scanned the entire banquet hall. A careful sweep confirmed it: Charles Jennings was nowhere to be seen. An image flashed through her mind—Simon whispering to Jack...

’Did he have Charles thrown out?!’

’Then what about my plan?!’

Her breath hitched. In a split second, with no time to think, she hurried toward the exit, avoiding Simon’s line of sight as she slipped out the door.

An attendant guided her to the black Maybach. Thankfully, the valets were holding all the keys.

She opened the car, grabbed her phone, and immediately sent a text: "We’re moving the plan up."

「Halfway down the mountain, on the only road back to the city.」

A black Bentley sped along the road. In the driver’s seat, Charles Jennings’s face was grim. ’Heh, so this is the power you said only a high-level system could use?’

The thought of how he’d been "escorted" from the estate made the gloom in Charles’s eyes deepen, nearly erasing any trace of his former gentle demeanor.

He was like a performer finally willing to remove his mask. Or perhaps, long ago, that mask had been his true face.

With the passage of time, his true face had become the mask, and now it was slowly being stripped away.

’014, care to explain?’ Charles’s tone was frigid.

System 014 was silent.

It was still in shock, its complex code a tangled mess with no clear starting point.

’How is this possible? He was barely affected. What incredible willpower.’

[...The facts prove that his emotions have indeed been erased,] 014 said in its cold, mechanical voice. [Given time, he will certainly leave the female supporting character.]

’Given time?’ Charles sneered. ’He has no emotions now, yet from where I’m standing, he still seems to like Joanna just fine.’

[That is merely your perception. The facts will prove that the power of a high-level system is far greater than you imagine.]

’Let’s hope so.’

Just as the dark expression on Charles’s face began to soften, a van abruptly appeared on the narrow, empty road ahead.

Without warning, it barreled straight toward him.

Charles’s pupils constricted. He instinctively yanked the wheel, veering toward the grassy shoulder. The tires seemed to hit something, skidding wildly the moment they touched the turf and sending the car crashing into the guardrail. An inch further, and it would have been a thousand-foot drop off the cliff.

The airbag deployed on impact. Gasping for breath in the space between life and death, Charles quickly unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car.

Ahead, the van sat silently. Several tall, burly men were climbing out.

*

At 11 AM in Aethelburg, Sean Grant helped Old Master Grant into the banquet hall, politely thanking the guests who had come to celebrate his birthday.

He then made a simple and clear announcement: from now on, Sean Grant would be in charge of the Grant Family, and he hoped everyone present would offer him their full support.

Sean Grant’s parents were all smiles, having clearly known in advance. Sean himself, however, looked completely dumbfounded, standing there stiffly as he accepted the crowd’s congratulations.

The crowd below, filled with influential figures, was stunned for a moment before understanding dawned. ’Heh, Old Master Grant hasn’t lost his marbles after all,’ they thought.

Among the younger generation of the Grant Family, Sean was by no means the most brilliant, but he had one great asset—he knew how to make friends.

There was Simon Lockwood, the President of Southland, a titan who had built a business empire from scratch. And by his side was his assistant, Jack Warren, a smiling tiger who navigated both legitimate and shady circles with ease.

With those two for support, even a complete fool could be propped up to success, to say nothing of the fact that Sean himself was actually quite capable.

He was a top graduate from a prestigious university, and in the few short years since taking over Fullstar, he’d made it flourish. He was the type to play the fool to catch the wise.

With the most important business concluded, Old Master Grant excused himself to his room to rest, citing that he wasn’t feeling well.

The birthday banquet began. The hosts had arranged the seating, and everyone took their places.

Once everyone was seated, Joanna’s expression froze. She had no idea who had made the seating chart, but she was right next to Simon. And at their table, aside from her, every single person was a titan of industry.

"Mr. Lockwood, and this young lady is...?" a manufacturing tycoon asked, looking at Simon with a hint of confusion.

’No one ever said Southland’s Mr. Lockwood was married,’ they mused. ’Which family’s daughter is this? I’ve never heard of her. The surname Kennedy... there used to be a Kennedy Company, but it went bankrupt long ago.’

Simon’s expression remained unchanged. Just as he was about to speak, Sean piped up from the side with a grin, "My sister-in-law."

Everyone: "..." Huh??

Joanna: "..." ’What the hell.’

’What kind of introduction is that? And who asked you to make it?!’

Silence. A long, drawn-out silence.

Yet Sean acted as if nothing was wrong, winking at Simon as if looking for praise. "Right, Simon?"

"..."

"..."