The Villains Must Win-Chapter 235: No Second Chances 35

She had expected Fredrich to be like this. Cold, yes. Possessive? Absolutely. But she never imagined he’d chase her down with armed men like a mafia lord retrieving stolen property.

And Christian—well, he’d always been a tyrant in a suit.

But this? This was obsession on a whole new level.

She was suffocating.

And not just from the lack of space in the car.

They weren’t fighting for her love. They were fighting for control.

The car took a sharp turn, gravel spitting under the tires as they pulled into a fenced clearing.

At the center of it stood a sleek black jet with its stairs already lowered and engines purring like a predator waiting to strike.

A private plane.

Christian’s escape route.

"Go!" he shouted, shoving open the door before the vehicle had even fully stopped.

"Move!" he grabbed Lina’s wrist, yanking her after him as they ran toward the plane.

Behind them, tires screeched. The SUVs stopped, and black-clad men poured out, guns raised and ready.

Fredrich’s emblem—an ivory crest shaped like a hawk—was stitched on their arms.

"Cover us!" Christian ordered his men, pulling a gun from his coat. "Hold them off while we take off!"

A firefight exploded behind them—chaotic, deafening, dangerous.

Lina ran, her legs burning as Christian dragged her forward. Her feet barely touched the ground. She stumbled once, nearly falling, but Christian pulled her upright again with a snarl.

"This is your fault," he hissed into her ear. "If you’d just stayed with me—"

"Then I’d be a prisoner either way," Lina snapped, yanking her arm from his grip.

He didn’t reply.

Instead, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up the jet stairs like baggage.

The inside of the jet was glossy, expensive, and hollow. Just like the life Christian always promised her. Cold leather seats. Polished wood. Champagne that would never taste sweet.

Outside, the battle raged on.

She twisted to look through the window and caught a glimpse of Fredrich in the distance—his silhouette unmistakable, elegant even in chaos. He didn’t shout. He didn’t run. He simply pointed once, and his men obeyed.

Even in war, Fredrich was composed.

And that made him even more terrifying.

He was trying to reclaim her.

Just like Christian.

And for the first time in a long while, the soul inside Lina felt beautiful.

Not in the way the world often defined beauty—with perfect skin, poised smiles, or curated lives for social media—but in a quiet, inward way that pulsed from her core.

It was the kind of beauty that came from being seen, not just looked at. The kind that came from doing what she loved without needing anyone’s approval.

In the real world, the soul inside Lina had always felt like an outlier. People didn’t quite know what to make of her. Her lifestyle—isolated, unconventional, and filled with pixels and game controllers—was often dismissed or misunderstood.

While others chased relationships, brunches, or gym selfies, she chose to stay in. Headphones on. Keyboard under her fingertips. Living worlds within worlds.

No one really wanted her, or at least, not enough to try to understand her. And that used to sting.

But over time, she grew used to it. Solitude became her armor, and routine became her rhythm. She convinced herself it worked.

And in many ways, it did. She liked being alone. There were no expectations to meet. No one to disappoint. She could focus entirely on her daily grind—streaming, leveling up, and completing quests that felt more real than conversations in coffee shops ever did. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

Her joy wasn’t loud. It was quiet and private, tucked in between frames of digital landscapes and the thrill of defeating a boss after hours of failure. It was real, and it was hers.

And though the world hadn’t asked for her, in this moment—surrounded by the glow of her screen and the victory music ringing in her ears—Lina didn’t feel like she needed it to.

Trapped between two forces she didn’t want to belong to. Two men who saw her not as a person, but as something broken and beautiful to keep under lock and key.

The engines roared.

The pilot shouted a warning.

The thunder of jet and screeching tires still echoed in the distance. The private airstrip, usually quiet and orderly, had become a war zone.

The dust barely settled as Christian dragged Lina toward the private plane. His grip was tight—too tight—and the look in his eyes sent a chill down her spine.

"Let go of me!" she hissed, struggling against him.

He didn’t stop, didn’t flinch. "Not a chance. You’re mine, Lina. You always have been."

Her mind reeled with the bitter irony. In trying to escape Christian’s possessive grip, she had landed in Fredrich’s gilded cage.

And now? She was the spark between two madmen, each claiming they were saving her. Each trying to win—not her heart, but the right to own her.

Then, like a bolt splitting the storm, came the sharp, distinct sound of tires tearing across tarmac.

A black car.

Another.

Then a third.

Fredrich.

She didn’t have to see him to know.

Christian stopped halfway up the metal stairs to the plane, eyes narrowing at the sound. Behind them, men leapt from the newly arrived convoy, all dressed in black. Fredrich’s men. Tactical. Silent. Deadly.

And then he emerged.

Fredrich Jones. Impeccably dressed even in chaos, wearing a dark trench coat over his usual tailored suit, his presence turned heads like gravity.

He wasn’t shouting.

He didn’t need to.

Fredrich walked forward slowly, unhurried, the way a lion might approach another predator on foreign soil.

"Let her go," he said simply, voice low, almost too calm.

Christian let out a short, sharp laugh. "Get lost. She’s mine."

Lina’s breath hitched. She couldn’t move, caught between the two forces that had upended her life.

Christian’s grip tightened reflexively, like a man gripping a trophy, while Fredrich’s eyes darkened.

"She made her choice," Fredrich said, his voice laced with quiet authority. "And it wasn’t you."