Supervillain Idol System: My Sidekick Is A Yandere-Chapter 547: A New - (Part 9)

Don followed a few steps behind Winter as they crossed deeper into the property.

From the outside, the villa sold a specific image. Wide frontage. Curved driveway. Stone and glass layered together in clean lines.

Luxury cars crowded the edges near the garage and along the front approach, parked almost like decorations—low profiles, dark paint, chrome catching the floodlights.

A few guards stood near the walls and railings, but they weren’t alert. Some smoked. One leaned against a column with a beer in hand, rifle slung loose over his shoulder like an accessory instead of a tool.

Winter moved ahead with a lazy sway in her walk, head tilted, posture loose.

But her eyes weren’t.

They tracked everything. Guard positions. Camera housings under the eaves. Which doors were watched and which weren’t. Who carried long guns. Who didn’t.

"They don’t seem to take security too seriously," she murmured.

Don glanced at the men laughing near the wall. "That’s what happens when you’re used to nobody messing with you."

They reached the entrance.

No pat-down. No wand. Not even a glance.

Just noise spilling out as the doors opened and swallowed them whole.

Inside, the house opened wide—high ceilings, layered balconies, a central space that rolled straight into chaos.

Music hit first. Then bodies. People everywhere. Groups packed around low tables. Others swaying wherever there was space to stand. Light rigs washed the walls in shifting color. Drinks sloshed. Laughter came in uneven bursts.

Winter’s gaze moved again—doorways, staircases, the positions of the few guards inside.

Don focused on faces. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

They pushed deeper, drawn into a larger party area where tables had been cleared to make room. Some girls were up on them, moving with the music while the crowd below looked up and cheered.

A few guards stood near the edges of the space, but their attention had drifted. Their eyes followed skin and motion instead of entrances.

As Don and Winter passed, hands reached out.

"Hey, come on, don’t be shy."

"Drinks are over here, beautiful."

"Sit with us, big guy, you look bored."

One girl drifted closer to Winter, eyes bright, smile wide. "Oh my god, you’re gorgeous. Where have you been hiding?"

Winter laughed and took her hand, fingers linking like they’d known each other for years. "Just got here babe," she said, leaning in with easy familiarity.

Then she paused, head tipping back slightly as if remembering something important.

"But daddy here needs to talk business with Johnny," she added, gesturing loosely over her shoulder. "Where is he?"

The girl pointed past them, toward the back of the house. "Pool side. Bar by the pool."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Don said.

He gave Winter a quick smack on the ass and headed in the indicated direction.

The interior shifted as he moved away from the central space. The music stayed loud, but the air opened. Large glass doors lined one side of the corridor, already slid back to reveal the rear grounds.

He stepped through.

The pool area spread out behind the house, lit from below and above. Water reflected broken color onto the surrounding stone.

A DJ setup thumped near one end. A long bar ran parallel to the pool, lit from beneath the counter.

And there, away from the rest of the party, was Johnny.

He sat among a small cluster of people. No dancers nearby.

Five figures.

One man was bald with thin glasses, posture tight, hands folded near his drink. Another was heavyset in a baggy suit, shirt open at the collar, sweat darkening the fabric.

A third was dark skinned with long dreads tied back, elbows on the bar, eyes constantly moving. The fourth was bald again, head and neck crowded with tattoos that climbed into his collar.

The only woman there stood slightly apart from them.

Valerie Kross.

Dark hair pulled back, expression unreadable, arms resting on the counter as she listened rather than spoke.

Johnny sat between the two bald men, drink in hand, shoulders loose with alcohol.

Several guards stood nearby. These ones weren’t laughing. They weren’t holding beers.

As Don took it in, his aviators adjusted.

Faces framed. Features mapped. Names surfaced.

JOHNNY — CONFIRMED

VALERIE KROSS — CONFIRMED

The others ticked through loading icons, data pulling in behind the lenses.

Don ignored it and kept walking.

The guards near the bar noticed him almost immediately. One shifted his stance. Another’s hand moved closer to his side.

Then two of the men with Johnny looked up.

The tattooed one squinted. "Who’s this guy?"

Johnny frowned, leaning forward slightly as he tried to focus. "Hey," he called. "Do we fucking know each other, man? You look kinda familiar—"

Don reached up and removed his aviators.

Johnny stopped mid-word.

His eyes widened.

Valerie’s did too as she straightened from the bar, fingers curling lightly against the counter’s edge.

One of the guards noticed it the moment Johnny’s face changed.

He stepped in, arm lifting halfway as if on instinct, palm turning toward Don’s chest.

Don didn’t slow.

He looked at the guard and asked, calm as anything, "Are you trying to lose that hand?"

The man froze.

His brows pulled together, jaw tightening as if he wanted to argue, wanted to prove something—but his arm stopped short. He lowered it an inch. Then another.

Johnny stood up fast enough that his chair scraped against the stone—SKRRRT~. He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"Relax, everyone," he said, spreading his hands slightly. "Me and this gentleman did some business in the past. I just didn’t expect to see you at this party." He laughed weakly. "Doesn’t seem like your type of crowd."

Don raised a brow.

Truth was, he didn’t know what he’d expected. Hostility, maybe. A bluff. Something louder than this.

His gaze drifted past Johnny, catching the way the others watched him now—curious, cautious, measuring. Guards had shifted their footing. Valerie stood straighter, eyes cutting briefly to Johnny, then back to Don.

’Maybe he’s not trying to show cracks in front of them,’ Don thought. ’Interesting.’

The bald man covered in tattoos broke the moment first, laughing as he leaned back on his stool. "Ha! Why am I not surprised." He looked Don over openly. "You did business with him, huh? Don Bright, right? The kid who dropped all those upper-class bastards at the casino."

A few faces tightened at that.

Even Valerie hesitated, fingers curling slightly against the bar as she waited for Don to respond.

Don smiled. "Sorry if I’m interrupting." He stepped past the guard without resistance and took an empty chair at the bar, turning it just enough to sit sideways.

"I wasn’t planning on stopping by. But someone attacked one of my properties." He rested an arm along the back of the chair. "Figured a man as connected as you might help me with a little information."