Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

Streetlights illuminated the passing vehicles and pedestrians. Amid the rush, only a black Maybach sat parked quietly across the street.

Joanna Kennedy stared for so long that Howard Thorne followed her gaze out the floor-to-ceiling window. He saw a man standing in front of the black car. The man’s tall, imposing figure somehow seemed desolate and pitiable.

He was too far away to make out the man’s features, but Howard Thorne seemed to guess who it was. His expression soured, and he lost his appetite.

He set his chopsticks down on his plate with a soft clatter. Joanna Kennedy pulled her gaze back inside, glancing at the large amount of food left on the table. "Are you done?"

"Yeah." Howard Thorne nodded and suggested tentatively, "It’s still early. Want to go walk around?"

The clock on the private room’s wall showed 7:30 PM. It was still quite early. Joanna Kennedy smiled. "Let’s not. It would be bad if we were photographed."

Howard Thorne didn’t give up, pressing on. "You just shuttle between the film set, the office, and home all day. That’s not healthy in the long run. You need to make time to go out and have some fun."

Perhaps because of her upbringing, Joanna Kennedy was a bit of a loner. She didn’t care for making friends or bustling crowds. To put it nicely, she was independent and self-aware. To put it bluntly, she was callous and detached.

The more time he spent with her, the more Howard Thorne wanted to break Joanna Kennedy’s routine, as if that would prove he meant something special to her.

Joanna Kennedy’s expression didn’t change. With the same serene smile, she declined, "No thanks. I’m perfectly healthy, mentally and physically."

Howard Thorne: "..."

He’d expected that answer, so Howard Thorne wasn’t terribly disappointed, but he couldn’t help a flicker of dejection. He settled for the next best thing. "Then let me take you home."

Given Joanna Kennedy’s status, taking a taxi home wasn’t really an option. Howard Thorne giving her a ride was the best solution, a fact both of them understood perfectly.

Normally, Joanna Kennedy wouldn’t have hesitated, but...

Joanna Kennedy glanced out the window. The black Maybach was still there, and the tall, imposing man hadn’t moved, still standing rigidly beside it.

’Psycho. Pervert...’

A small smile played on Joanna Kennedy’s lips. Turning back, her decision made, she said, "That’s okay, you don’t have to drive me. I can get home by myself."

"By yourself?!" Howard Thorne’s voice cracked, rising in pitch.

Rejected again and again, Howard Thorne could no longer suppress the nameless frustration welling up inside him. His expression turned ugly, his voice stiff. "Joanna Kennedy, you didn’t drive here. Tell me, how are you getting home?!"

His accusatory tone made Joanna Kennedy frown, but she answered calmly, "My neighbor is coming to get me. Don’t worry, we won’t be seen. And if we are, I’ll handle it."

’Even now, that’s all she’s thinking about. Paparazzi, trending topics, handling it herself...’

Howard Thorne’s heart plummeted. The feeling left a hollow echo, quickly replaced by a rising tide of anger that clouded his judgment. "Handle it?"

He sneered, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "Will *you* handle it, or will you have that illegitimate son of the Sinclair Family handle it for you?"

The words fell, followed by a long silence.

The private room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

This was the first time Howard Thorne had ever spoken to her so aggressively. After a moment of silence, Joanna Kennedy replied, "You’re overthinking things."

"You said it yourself. He’s just an illegitimate son. The Sinclair Group isn’t his to command, so what power could he possibly have?"

Joanna Kennedy said it half-jokingly, but Howard Thorne stubbornly refused to drop the subject. "You know what I mean," he said stiffly.

His point wasn’t Simon Lockwood’s identity, but Joanna Kennedy’s relationship with him. Of course, Joanna understood that.

But she didn’t feel it was any of Howard Thorne’s business. A flicker of impatience rose within her, but she kept her expression neutral. "He’s my neighbor," she said.

"And that’s it?" Howard Thorne was skeptical.

But Joanna Kennedy was unwilling to say more. "For now, that’s it."

Those two words, "for now," were brilliant—full of infinite, uncertain possibilities. Joanna Kennedy had thought for a long time before offering such a relatively honest answer.

If anyone else had asked, Joanna Kennedy would have given a perfunctory reply or simply refused to answer. But this was Howard Thorne, and she didn’t want to lie to him.

’In her heart, she truly saw Howard Thorne as a friend. He had helped her a great deal, after all. And while she had certainly generated a lot of revenue for the Thorne Family, some debts couldn’t be repaid with money.’

Joanna Kennedy sighed. "Really. I have no reason to lie to you."

Joanna Kennedy’s answer didn’t reassure Howard Thorne in the slightest. Instead, he pressed on, "And in the future?"

’Simon Lockwood was obviously pursuing Joanna Kennedy. He refused to believe she couldn’t see it.’

"Joanna Kennedy, what about the future? Can you promise you won’t get involved with him?"

Desperate for an answer, he ignored the fact that his question had long since crossed the boundaries of friendship. Joanna Kennedy said no more, simply watching him in silence.

Her cool, distant gaze was like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, snapping him to his senses. Howard Thorne looked away, flustered. "I’m asking too much."

"Jojo, I’m sorry." Howard Thorne’s voice was tense. He fell silent, waiting anxiously for her response.

After a moment, Joanna Kennedy spoke, her voice devoid of emotion. "You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine."

Her forgiveness felt so weightless. Howard Thorne was silent for a moment, then said, "I’ll have someone send you a file on Simon Lockwood."

"I don’t—"

"It’s always good to be careful. After all, the world is full of bad people."

Howard Thorne cut her off. Hearing the subtle dig in his words, Joanna Kennedy simply smiled and didn’t refuse again. "Alright."

Leaving the restaurant, Howard Thorne walked quickly, as if he couldn’t bear to witness a certain unpleasant scene. He got into his car and sped off, leaving only a trail of exhaust.

The intersection was wide, and traffic was heavy at this hour. Joanna Kennedy waited for a wave of cars to pass before unhurriedly making her way across the street.

Joanna Kennedy stopped when she was still a few feet away from him.

Beneath a dim yellow streetlight, the man’s features were refined and handsome. His lips, neither thin nor thick, were pressed into a faint line. Dressed in a white T-shirt, he had an unexpectedly boyish air about him.

Joanna Kennedy narrowed her eyes. It was the first time she’d seen this side of Simon Lockwood. Suddenly, his age—somewhere in his early twenties—felt real to her.

’Hm. A sweet-faced college boy, if you just went by looks.’

Her intense gaze roamed over his face and body, and the knot of tension in Simon Lockwood’s chest loosened slightly. He took one step forward. When she didn’t back away, he closed the remaining distance between them.

"It’s late. It’s not safe for you to go home alone..." Simon Lockwood explained his presence, his gaze lowered.

His downcast eyes were dark and deep. When he spoke, his gaze was so focused it was as if she were the only person in the world, the only one he could see.

Joanna Kennedy raised an eyebrow, deliberately provoking him. "I wasn’t alone. Someone was going to take me home."

He’d seen the man across from Joanna Kennedy in the restaurant. Simon Lockwood’s lips thinned. "It’s not safe," he repeated.

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