Episode 2: Smirk First, Bleed Later

“I wasn’t born to follow the story. I was born to ruin it beautifully.” — Riven Ainsley

[Riven Ainsley’s POV]

Lucien Valehart is still watching me.

Not glaring. Not ignoring.

Watching. Like a predator trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble of hunting—or too venomous to risk biting.

Good. Let him stare. Let him suffocate on the fact that I’m not playing by his rules.

I strut out of the royal court like I’m the one holding the crown. I don’t, but the way people move out of my way? Maybe I should.

According to the “original plot,” this was supposed to be the start of my grand downfall. Chapter Five: Villain Makes Scene → Villain Humiliates Heroine → Villain Gets Cursed by Karma™.

But instead of soaking the darling heroine with wine, I toasted to her curls and complimented the patriarchy.

Lucien didn’t like that.

He liked it too much.

“Lord Ainsley.”

The voice slides down my spine like ice. I don’t turn. Just smirk and keep walking.

“Unless you’re here to apologize for your inability to blink like a normal human being, I suggest you save your breath, Prince Charming.”

Lucien appears beside me with the elegance of someone who could kill and be praised for it. His boots don’t even make a sound.

“You’re... different today.”

“Tragic. I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

“You weren’t meant to flatter Aurelia.”

“You weren’t meant to enjoy it.”

A flicker—barely there—dances across his face. Something between annoyance and… amusement?

No.

Not that.

He steps in front of me, cutting off my path. I stop. We’re too close now—his breath grazes my cheek, cool and maddening.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he says lowly, voice silk wrapped around a blade.

I tilt my head. “And you’re upset I’m better at it.”

Lucien's hand rises—slowly, deliberately. He brushes his fingers just under my jaw, like he’s checking if I flinch.

I don’t.

“You’re not what I expected,” he murmurs.

“And you’re exactly what I did,” I whisper back. “Boring, brooding, emotionally constipated…”

He chuckles. Chuckles. Like the word ‘emotionally constipated’ gave him life.

Then he leans in—closer than should be legal—and says,

“Careful, Riven. You’re becoming interesting.”

And then he’s gone.

No footsteps. No goodbye. Just heat and tension left behind in his absence.

Later That Night...

My chambers are too quiet. Luxurious, yes—but silent in that suspicious way that makes you feel watched even when you’re alone.

I pour myself a glass of wine and find an envelope on my desk.

No seal. No signature. Just one sentence:

> You're not fooling me, Riven.

But I’ll play along. For now.

—L

I trace the ink with my thumb and smile.

Oh, Lucien.

You think you’re playing me?

That’s adorable.

[Lucien Valehart’s POV]

I’ve never cared much for snakes. But Riven Ainsley?

He doesn’t crawl. He struts. Flaunts. Dares.

He twists the plotlines I’ve memorized. His tongue is a weapon, and every word slices deeper than a blade.

He was meant to be a nuisance. A side villain.

Forgettable.

But he doesn’t fade.

He shines—with venom and arrogance and something worse.

Temptation.

If he thinks I’ll let him rewrite my story… he’s mistaken.

But maybe I’ll let him try.

Just to watch him fall.

To Be Continued...

SURPRISE! SURPRISE!darlings......

who do you think the ML is ?😉

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