Sexy "British Villain"

Passing by the butler, Rachel called Annalise over:

— Prepare a large bath. I want to properly rest after the journey.

— Yes, as you wish, madam, — bowing, the maid waved to the other servants, who immediately set off to carry out the order.

(Annalise told her about the guild situation. Nothing new. Except that there was more work… though who would doubt that?)

Rachel walked down the corridor of the mansion, and a recent conversation in the carriage came to mind:

— Mistress, don't you think we should track down that man?

— I don't think he could have harmed anyone alive, — narrowing her eyes, the blonde just smirked.

— Do you really believe there's anything in this world capable of threatening my life? I'm not interested in how a snake trembles before a mouse. I'm sure that man was not looking for me. Didn't you say the drawing was inaccurate?

A slight smile still played on her face — the news didn't worry her at all.

— But… — Annalise began anxiously, but Rachel cut her off:

— The subject is closed, — despite her calm tone, a warning sounded in her voice. After that, she rested her cheek on her hand, staring boredly out the window where trees and the night landscape flickered by.

The memory ended, and a daring smile appeared on the girl's face, surprisingly at odds with her angelic features, making them eerily attractive.

— Ha… Looking for me through my own guild? Each time it sounds more and more foolish.

After lying down on the bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, then relaxing in the warm bath, Rachel flopped back onto the bed and fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

The next morning.

Rachel stood in the doorway of her office, silently staring for a few seconds at the man who had so brazenly settled inside.

The dark-haired stranger was standing by the window, smoking, filling the room with acrid smoke.

— What are you doing here? — Rachel asked calmly, almost kindly, with a barely noticeable half-smile on her lips.

But despite the politeness, the man understood — she was irritated.

He turned slowly, without stopping smoking, and said:

— You came? Earlier than I expected.

No apologies — just arrogance and blatant impudence.

— Vassarian Azekian, I hope you have a good reason for so rudely breaking into my home and speaking to me in that tone, — Rachel's face grew serious, awaiting an answer.

Vassarian Azekian — a man who could without hesitation be called the villain of a novel. The ruler of the largest dark city, not part of any of the seven kingdoms.

A place where fraud, murder, and debauchery flourished. A jungle where only the strongest survived.

No one there hesitated to kill if it brought profit.

He had dark hair with a violet sheen in the light and eyes the color of ripe violets, now glowing red.

Mad, amoral, and frighteningly attractive — even in silence he radiated sex appeal.

But Rachel didn't care. To her, he was just a stranger with a name that didn't match his surname.

— I'll repeat the question: what brings you here? — now dropping the formalities, she looked at him with obvious hostility.

To be an uninvited guest in the Black Guild's mansion was like stepping into a lion's mouth.

The only reason he was still standing here — he was Vassarian. The lord of an independent city. Killing him meant declaring war.

— Oh, nothing special. Just came to make friends, — he said with an unruffled expression.

This phrase stunned Rachel for a couple of seconds. Recovering, she asked again:

— Make friends?.. You broke the necks of two of my servants and barged in uninvited. Are you sure you understand what that word means?

— Of course. Besides, they're vampires. They won't die from that, — he mockingly tilted his head and spread a smile.

The words were so absurd that Rachel threw her head back, trying to make sense of what she'd heard.

(If you really came to win over the Black Guild… Then why did you burst in like a savage with no manners? And then dare to say: "I want to make friends." Fifty points for angering me. And another fifty — for making me want to kill you.)

— Are you sure?.. — she finally breathed out. That was all she could say.

— Absolutely. Although… no. Let's get married.

The smile on his face turned sly again, like the Cheshire Cat's.

Rachel wanted to say something but… suddenly she just wanted to be silent. Or quietly die.

He once again stunned her — this time for a long while — and seemed to enjoy every second of her silence.

— Just kidding, — he smirked, having toyed with her reaction.

Rachel, as if snapping her fingers, regained composure. Taking a deep breath, she smiled sweetly:

— I see. Then please proceed to the living room and have some tea. It's improper for a young lady to appear before a guest in such a state, — she glanced down at her simple house dress.

He finally noticed her outfit and grinned predatorily, licking his lips.

(Interesting person... Usually ladies blush in such situations. But she? She keeps her dignity like a true head of a crime guild. Unexpected... but intriguing.)

— Go left down the corridor and down the stairs, — Rachel said and followed his gaze.

Waiting a minute after he left, she stepped out of her office.

Entering the bedroom leisurely, Rachel rang the bell.

After a few seconds, the maids appeared in the doorway. Worry and confusion could be seen on their faces, though they tried to hide it.

— Help me get dressed, — the blonde said calmly.

Usually Rachel babbled cheerfully — about favorite pastries or murders of her victims. Today she was taciturn.

The servants silently dressed the mistress in one of her dresses and began braiding her two thick braids.

After several minutes of tense silence, Rachel suddenly broke the quiet:

— Seems you were right, Emma.

— W-what?.. — one of the three maids stammered.

— I mean, it's not worth walking around the house like that. Even if it's my mansion — rats might come calling, — she said with a bright smile.

— Then… — the red-haired maid Lily cautiously joined in.

— That man… he is the ruler of the 'Those Lands,' right? — she asked carefully, looking expectantly at the mistress.

By 'Those Lands' she meant that very city. The close servants avoided mentioning independent Edis, knowing how disliked it was by their mistress.

— You must be angry… — added the third maid with a sympathetic voice.

— What? No-no! — Rachel opened her mouth in surprise, looking like a hamster.

— I'm the one to blame for not replying and ignoring Mr. Vassarian's letters. I should apologize to him.

Of course, it was a lie.

The maids exchanged quick, almost imperceptible glances.

The more innocent her words sounded — the more dangerous her true thoughts were. At least, it had always worked that way before.

And the maids knew it.

Rachel ran lightly down the stairs to the living room.

— Sorry to keep you waiting. Was it long? — her face was again calm and composed.

— No-no, of course, don't blame yourself, Lady Rachel! — Vassarian answered, sipping from his cup. He looked as if he were the master of the house, and the girl just a guest.

For a moment, Rachel clenched her teeth, but without a twitch of her eyebrow, put him in his place:

— Please address me formally, Mr. Azekian.

(Be grateful you're here… damn joke.)

— Then... Lady Roxberg? — the man rested his head on his hand, tilting it slightly to the side.

Nodding, Rachel continued:

— So what happened that the ruler of the criminal city Edis came to me himself? I admit I ignored your letters about cooperation. But don't you think bursting in like this is somewhat tactless?

(So confident and calm talking to me... Her composure really deserves respect.) — smiling slightly at the corners of his lips, Vassarian replied without hesitation:

— I have something you should know. News I assure you you'll want to hear.

Rachel tilted her head, raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, listening.

— You've probably heard that some man was searching for you?

(All our client orders are secret… Although what else to expect from Edis's upper echelon? Their power rivals ours. Not surprising he learned everything so fast. Even a bit annoying...)

Thinking for a second, Rachel nodded.

— That man also approached Edis's information dealers. Of course, small fry claimed they would find something out — although they knew nothing about you. I stopped them… and put a tail on him.

— Do you really think someone can harm me? — Rachel summoned the butler with a gesture, took a cup of hot cocoa, and took a sip. — Naive.

— Do you know what happened to them? — Vassarian lowered his voice as if saying something dangerous.

She cast a bored glance at him and gently swirled the cup, watching the liquid ripple.

— He killed them all. One by one. Extracted each client's name, — his voice grew serious, his eyes flashed with anger.

— Hm… what did you expect? Over ninety percent of our clients are not the most decent people, — Rachel's voice was still even, but her expression clearly showed irritation.

— They were high-level vampires. Ones who could take on two dozen holy knights by themselves.

— Two dozen paladins? You had well-trained assassins. Probably... — she said the last phrase with clear disdain, looking at her reflection in the cocoa.

— And you, lady, are careless. Don't you think? — Vassarian's voice also grew colder. For a moment, anger flashed in his crimson eyes.

Rachel gave him a sidelong glance, took the last sip, and set the cup down on the table with a clink.

She opened her mouth to say something… but changed her mind.

(Holy knights… Their energy is destructive to vampires. If that man really managed to kill them all… then he's also a holy knight. And a stronger-than-average one at that.) — biting her lip, she got lost in thought.

— I decided it would be best to tell you this in person, — the devilish, dazzling smile appeared on his face again.

As expected, Vassarian was still self-absorbed, sincerely believing he could charm anyone with his charisma.

— What about the fact that you broke in through the window, wandering around the mansion grounds? Sending a letter requesting a meeting... — Rachel paused, choosing her words carefully so as not to sound too harsh.

— You would have just thrown it away, wouldn't you? — he interrupted before she could finish.

— I'm afraid I had no other choice but to come like this.

— My sincere apologies. In return... may I appease your anger by granting you one wish? — his mischievous Cheshire smile appeared again as he tousled his obsidian hair.

— Um… th-then… you... — she started awkwardly, biting her lower lip again.

— I…

— …will invite me on a date?.. — she finally whispered. Her cheeks instantly flushed, like a fake blush, and she stared at the floor, lowering her head and hiding her face behind her hair.

— …What? — Vassarian stared at her in shock. It was the only thing he could manage to say.