Playing the Villainess, He Fell for Me

In the air, the faint blue specks of starlight quickly vanished. It took only a few seconds for the room to return to darkness, so quiet it seemed as if nothing had ever happened.

Outside, the snow had grown heavier. It fluttered down, covering the ground before it had a chance to melt, only to be buried by yet more snow.

The hospital, 11:00 PM.

Doctors and nurses hurried back and forth, their faces taut beneath their masks. No one spoke. The red "Surgery in Progress" light above the operating room remained stubbornly lit.

CRACK! The sharp sound echoed from around the corner. Old Master Sinclair had brought his cane down hard on the leg of the man before him.

"Kneel!"

Old Master Sinclair was furious, putting all his strength into the blow. A sharp pain shot through the back of Jasper Sinclair’s knee, and he collapsed to the ground.

He lowered his head, hiding the sinister glint in his eyes as he listened to Old Master Sinclair’s enraged, seething words.

"Jasper Sinclair, you’ve really grown up. So capable now. You even dare to harm your own brother." Old Master Sinclair’s face was ashen as he stared at the son who had once been his pride. "Who taught you this?! Who taught you to commit such a monstrous act, something even an animal wouldn’t do!"

He had seen his share of internal strife and fratricide in his life, but he had never imagined it would happen in his own family.

A pane of glass that large... it was no different from a blade. If Simon hadn’t been wearing thick clothes, he likely would have died on the spot. And so many other people were dragged into it.

Old Master Sinclair’s hand, gripping his cane, was trembling. He had to take one of his heart pills just to keep from passing out from pure rage. But things had already reached this point; no amount of anger could change what had happened.

He just couldn’t understand how the son he had watched grow up could be so heartless.

"I’ve told you before, the Sinclair Group is yours! Simon won’t fight you for it. So why are you so determined to kill him?!"

’Why did Simon Lockwood have to die?’

Jasper Sinclair slowly lifted his head. "You can’t figure it out?"

He continued, "Actually, I can’t figure it out either."

"..."

"I can’t figure out why you insisted on bringing him back. I can’t figure out how an illegitimate son gets to live a happier life than I do. I can’t figure out why you indulge him so much."

’He was the legitimate heir of the Sinclair Family, the one who was supposed to inherit everything. So why did it feel like Simon Lockwood was graciously letting him have it?’

’What right did Simon Lockwood have? What the hell was he? Just an illegitimate son. A bastard who couldn’t even be brought out into the open. A... bas... tard.’

Old Master Sinclair’s eyes filled with shock. With the anger and disappointment still etched on his face, the expression looked almost comical.

’No matter how outstanding Jasper was, the moment he did something that didn’t align with the image of a Sinclair heir, Old Master Sinclair would make that exact face. But he was never like that with Simon Lockwood.’

’Simon Lockwood had defied the entire Sinclair Family for some starlet, even gathering evidence of the Sinclair Group’s crimes. Now, he’d landed himself in the operating room for that same woman. It was idiotic, absolutely tacky. Yet Old Master Sinclair still took his side.’

Jasper Sinclair sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Your precious son, Simon Lockwood, was about to move against the Group. What’s wrong with me striking back?"

Jasper Sinclair’s words were calculated to wound, and they hit their mark. Old Master Sinclair fell silent, seeming to age ten years in an instant as his once-straight back hunched over.

After a long moment, he spoke, his voice weary. "He’s your brother."

"Brother?" Jasper Sinclair laughed until tears welled in his eyes. "You mean my half-brother? The brother who wants to see me thrown in jail?"

"Dad." The mockery in Jasper Sinclair’s eyes was now undisguised. "Those who achieve great things must never be swayed by emotion. You taught me that. You defeated Second Uncle, and I will not lose to Simon Lockwood."

"..."

It was a bitter sort of karma. Jasper Sinclair had grown into the ruthless, bold man he was raised to be, but Old Master Sinclair felt no joy, only a profound sense of tragedy and pity.

A night of snowfall had blanketed the ground in white. CRUNCH. Footprints appeared on the pristine snow.

"Jojo didn’t let you in?" Howard Thorne asked inside the ascending elevator.

Tina shook her head. Facing her big boss, she answered honestly, "No. I knocked, but Jojo didn’t answer."

At 7:30 that morning, Tina had gone to deliver breakfast, but no matter how many times she knocked, there was no response from inside. Worried something might have happened, she had no choice but to contact her boss.

Ordinarily, she would have contacted Joanna’s agent first, but Mindy Morgan was completely swamped, busy dealing with the firestorm on social media.

"Go buy another breakfast and bring it up in a little while," Howard Thorne said.

Tina froze for a moment, only snapping out of it when she saw him swipe the hotel key card. "Oh! Right, okay. I’ll go right now."

The door opened. Howard Thorne paused in the doorway for a moment before stepping inside. The room was completely dark; the curtains were drawn tight, and it was so quiet he almost couldn’t sense anyone’s presence.

When he finally detected the sound of faint breathing from nearby, Howard Thorne let out a sigh of relief. He spoke tentatively in that direction, "Jojo, are you awake?"

There was no response. Howard Thorne felt his way to the window and pulled open the curtains. As light flooded the room, Joanna Kennedy finally spoke.

"What is it?"

Her voice was so hoarse it sent an involuntary shiver through him. Howard Thorne turned, and his breath caught when he saw the scene before him.

The bed was perfectly made, with no sign of having been slept in. A laptop sat haphazardly on the floor. Joanna Kennedy was sitting at the foot of the bed, curled into a ball and clutching something to her chest.

As the light hit her, she instinctively dropped her gaze and hugged whatever she was holding even tighter.

’Did Joanna Kennedy sit here all night?’

The thought struck Howard Thorne abruptly. He felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed, but it didn’t go away. Only then did he realize he had been holding his breath.

"...Jojo?" Howard Thorne started to walk toward her but stopped about a meter away from the bed, afraid he might startle her. "What... what are you doing sitting here?"

"What is it?" Joanna Kennedy asked again.

Of course Howard Thorne had things to discuss. He wanted to tell Joanna Kennedy about what had happened last night, about the social media frenzy, and about Simon Lockwood’s condition.

But with the words on the tip of his tongue, he didn’t know where to start. In the end, he settled on the one thing he knew she most wanted to hear.

"Simon Lockwood is out of danger, so you don’t have to worry so much," Howard Thorne said. "No one else was seriously hurt, either."

The Sinclair Family had the hospital room on complete lockdown. It hadn’t been easy for him to find out even this much; anything more was impossible.

"Thank you," Joanna Kennedy said.

The news that Simon Lockwood was out of danger didn’t seem to cause much of a change in Joanna Kennedy’s mood. She had been sitting for so long that her entire body was cold and numb. She tried to get up several times but failed, and in the end, Howard Thorne had to help her to her feet.

Once she was up, it took a long moment for the feeling to return to her limbs. She picked up the laptop from the floor, clutched the object in her arms, and walked toward the door, her expression calm the whole time.

But Howard Thorne knew she wasn’t nearly as calm as she appeared.

"Jojo," Howard Thorne said, rushing to block the door. "Where are you going?"

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