Chapter Three

Miguel Rosa, Head of the Mexican branch of the Villain Association, slams his head on the desk.

His brother and assistant, Samuel Rosa nods sympathetically, brows drawn down in worry.

"I did not sign up for this." Miguel groans.

"Actually—" Samuel starts, cut off by Miguel's growl.

"Don't. even. Try."

"Okay but you did sign up for this." Samuel laughs, "You fathered that witch. And then you volunteered to become Head of this branch."

"I did not know my very daughter, my sweet Morrigan will grow up and turn into such a chaotic little—" Miguel cries out. "Where did I go wrong, Sam?"

"One," Samuel starts, "Don't call me Sam. That's too generic for someone as unique as me. Two. I think it started when you taught her how to kick men where it hurts."

"That was self-defence!" Miguel protests, "And she is the only daughter of the notorious Rosas. Oh, mi princessa preciosa."

"And I am saying that is exactly when your princessa preciosa became a demonio." Samuel rolls his eyes. After a moment, his nose wrinkles. "Also, can you please stop mixing Spanish with English? It sounds horrible."

"You are horrible." Miguel bites back, before he slumps on his desk again. "Also, it was clearly when that stupid Russian married by princess. What was I thinking blessing them?"

"Hey!" Samuel speaks up, defending his nephew-in-law, "Viktor is a good kid." As an afterthought he adds, "Also he isn't Russian."

"You can never erase your heritage." Miguel responds, sagely, chest puffing up.

"And that's exactly why you bestowed one of the most Caucasian names on your clearly Mexican daughter." Samuel rolls his eyes.

"I like how Morrigan sounds." Miguel protests, brows furrowing, "And you have no right to speak Samuel."

Samuel, understanding that he had lost his footing, pouted, jutting his lower lip out as if he weren't a middle-aged man with extreme back pain.

"Stop it. That's disgusting."

"You are disgusting."

"You are the one pouting."

"I am your little brother!"

"And you are disgusting." Miguel repeats, eyes not moving from the document he is reviewing.

Then he hides his face in his hands and lets out a pained groan.

"Why must my son-in-law be so incompetent?"

"Can you stop blaming everything on my nephew?" Samuel scowls. "He is probably admitting himself into a mental institution as we speak. Because of your daughter if I must remind you."

"My daughter is flawless."

"She is a demon, and you know it."

"She is your only niece."

"And Viktor saved my life."

"Unfilial brat."

"Unappreciative moron."

"Is that how you treat your older brother?"

"This is how I treat the child you are."

"I am literally an entire decade older than you."

"Doesn't mean you aren't a petty five-year-old mentally."

Miguel, clearly the most mature, and not a five-year-old, admits defeat first, changing the topic with the experience of an exhausted older brother.

"Book the first flight to UK tomorrow. I can't miss the havoc my daughter will cause."

"You are having fun." Samuel says, tone accusing, "You are actually enjoying this, while the Villain Association are having a very global existence crisis collectively."

"Morrigan deserves to have some fun." Miguel responds easily. "And its time the Hero Committee pays for their actions."

"I am going to ignore the first bit. I am not paid enough for that." Samuel grins, "But you are right about the second part."

"I am always right."

"If that makes you sleep at night, sure."

"Oh, just shut up and get to work." Miguel says with his annoyance spiking. Clearly, his brother is a foolish one to not appreciate how kind Miguel is to him.

Samuel grins at him.

"You love me."

"I also want to throw your dead body in the Pacific but here we are."

Samuel sticks his tongue out, before he stomps out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

Really, little siblings are the worst.

Across the ocean, in Britain, a shiver ran down Viktor's back and he froze half movement.

Taking advantage of it, his sparring partner, seized him in a headlock, before slamming him down on the mat. Then as if his back wasn't almost broken, he was asked,

"What happened?"

"Walter!" Viktor cursed instead, snapping out of his reverie, wincing as his back throbbed when he stood. "Is this what I taught you? To injure the defenceless?"

Said Walter Hoffman rolled his eyes without any regret.

"You are the Greatest Rovanoff to have ever existed, a nightmare to heroes, a commendable man to the general public and stealer of a demon's heart. I don't think defenceless is the word to describe you."

"Yeah but I wasn't prepared to be judo-slammed on the ground." Viktor growls, massaging his hip. "My body isnt what it used to be."

"You are barely in your 30s," Walter scoffs, "Stop acting like a 70-year-old."

"I don't act like an old man." Viktor protests, wincing when his waist cracks.

"Yeah, because you act like a middle-aged man going through an existence crisis."

Victor huffs, "You are so lucky I have not fired you yet."

Walter returns to his position, taking a defensive stance. "That's because I am the only one able to understand your half-cooked ideas and have to act as your interpreter for poor Zena and Mikhael."

"That's literally your job."

"My job is killing annoying pests before they kill the rest of the world." Walter reminds him. His chest puffs up as he continues, "In case you forgot, I am the second most feared villain in Europe right now. My poison is second only to Vestia. My skills—"

"Yes, yes. Poison-master-extraordinaire." Viktor relents. "But you are nothing compared to my father-in-law. Who is coming to the emergency conference tomorrow; who may also chop me up for letting his daughter get kidnapped, or just shoot me dead if he's merciful. Who I am genuinely scared of."

Walter sighs, dodging the surprise punch thrown at him, pushing out his leg in a kick in return, "Honestly. I wish the Hero Committee could see who that the man they call the most terrifying and vicious of all times, The Greatest Rovanoff, is terrified of his in-laws. The very in-laws who you blackmailed to kidnap your wife. Seriously, what is up with that? Not to mention, I still have a hard time understanding how did you even get your title with such a personality?"

"Marriage changed me." Viktor laughs. "I was no less terrifying than a hungry wolf. Then Vestia was born and now all that's in my head is her school functions, the grocery list and bills. Worry not however, dearest friend, my wife and daughter make up for it easily."

"And that's not helping anyone right now." Walter snorts, "You becoming a homebody is hilarious but not when your wife and daughter are probably on their way to throw Earth of its orbit."

"Don't remind me." Viktor sighs. "If I think about it, I might just as well go into hibernation and come back on doomsday to hold an umbrella over their head as hell rains down."

"I shall pray for you." Walter laughs, then adds as an afterthought, "If I survive."