Villain Hiring: Help! Author Wants Me Dead-Chapter 70: Sylvie

Noah’s lips twitched at my words, a ghost of amusement lighting across his otherwise cold face.

I clenched my jaw.

Damn brat.

Exhaling slowly, I tried to rein in my frustration. "Where is Sylvie?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

Noah’s smirk widened as his hazel eyes glinted with something sharp. "Oh? So you finally remember your wife?"

I swear, I nearly lost it.

My hands twitched at my sides as I curled my fingers into fists to stop myself from clawing at him.

The urge to slap that smug expression off his face was overwhelming, but I forced myself to stay calm. Barely.

The guards standing along the sides of the throne hall tensed, their eyes flicking between the two of us.

I shot them a sharp glare, silently daring any of them to utter a single word about this conversation.

They got the message.

Running a hand down my face, I tried inhaling deeply before waving them off. "Leave," I ordered, my voice laced with authority.

The guards hesitated for a moment, but under my glare, they obeyed, running out of the hall like some scared mice.

Once the last soldier stepped out and shut the heavy doors behind him, I pressed my fingers to my temples, letting out a weary sigh.

"Call her inside."

The moment the words left my mouth, the door creaked open again, and a figure stepped in.

My breath stopped.

Sylvie.

She looked… old.

Too old.

The woman who walked towards me bore little resemblance to the young, radiant girl I had once sworn to protect.

Her pink hair, once vibrant and full of life, now looked dull, strands of silver threading through it.

Wrinkles lined her face, with deep creases of exhaustion and suffering colouring her once flawless skin.

Her black eyes held no warmth—only the tired emptiness of a woman who had lived years beyond her time.

And it was my fault.

It was because I had sealed her mana core.

I had forced her to be a human, a weak, puny, human being—

A sharp pang of guilt twisted in my gut as I clenched my fists at my sides.

My fongers were so tight that I could actually feel my nails digging into my palm.

Sylvie’s eyes flickered between me and Noah, her expression unreadable.

Then she sighed, shaking her head. "Still as dramatic as ever, I see," she muttered, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear.

Noah scoffed from beside her. "Oh, trust me, Grandma. He’s just getting started."

I shot him a glare, but he merely crossed his arms, clearly enjoying himself.

Damn brat.

I stepped forward, my voice softer this time. "Sylvie… come here."

She hesitated but eventually took slow steps towards me.

When she was finally close enough, I could see just how much time had worn her down.

Her clothes—a plain brown gown, torn and frayed at the edges—spoke volumes of the life they had been forced to live.

She was younger than me, yet she looked decades older.

My heart clenched painfully.

I reached out, but she found her taking a step back.

I froze.

Her black eyes locked onto mine. "Why now, Venus?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "After all this time… why now?"

I had no answer.

Because the truth was, I had never wanted this. I had never wanted to exile them, to let them suffer alone. But my hands had been tied.

And now, after all these years, after all this pain—

Noah chuckled darkly. "Look at you two. What a touching reunion." He tilted his head, his smirk returning. "Say, Patriarch… are you regretting your decisions now?"

I exhaled sharply through my nose, my patience snapping.

Enough.

I strode toward him.

Noah’s amusement didn’t fade, even as I reached out and grabbed his forehead.

And then, with ease, I lifted him off the ground.

His hazel eyes widened slightly, though his smirk remained.

I smiled.

A kind smile.

A grandfatherly smile.

Then I tightened my grip.

"Call. Me. Your. Grandfather." My voice was low, dangerous.

Noah’s smirk twitched. His hands came up, gripping my wrist, but he didn’t struggle.

For the first time since stepping into the throne hall, the two of us locked eyes—not as strangers, not as enemies.

But as family.

A long silence stretched between us.

A silence that carried years of pain, anger, and unspoken words.

And in that moment, I knew—

This was only the beginning of my redemption.

Noah’s hazel eyes locked onto mine, his lips twitching as if debating whether to push back or let this moment unfold.

Even as I held him in the air by his forehead, the boy didn’t flinch, didn’t thrash.

Annoying brat.

I could feel the tension vibrating off of him, but he didn’t resist—only stared back, unreadable.

"Call me your grandpa," I repeated, my fingers pressing slightly into his skin.

His smirk finally faltered.

A slow exhale escaped him. "Tsk. You’re still as childish as ever," he muttered.

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I narrowed my eyes, waiting.

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A long pause.

Then, in a tone so reluctant it was almost amusing, he muttered, "Grandpa."

I blinked.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it.

Then he scoffed and added, "Happy now, old man?"

I huffed a breath through my nose and—without warning—dropped him.

Noah landed lightly, adjusting his dark robe, before shooting me an unimpressed glare.

Sylvie sighed from where she stood, arms crossed. "Really, Venus?"

I rubbed my temples. "He deserved it."

Noah smirked again. "You just wanted to show off."

I ignored him, turning back to Sylvie instead. "Let me see you."

She stiffened slightly but didn’t resist when I held her hand this time.

She was cold.

Her fingers, once soft and warm, were rough—calloused in ways they had never been before.

My stomach twisted.

I ran my thumb over her knuckles, my voice softer now. "You’ve suffered, haven’t you?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she simply watched me. Then, after a long moment, she pulled her hand back.

"I survived."

The way she said it—so empty, so resigned—made something in my chest ache.

I inhaled deeply. "I never wanted this, Sylvie."

Noah scoffed. "Could’ve fooled us."

I shot him a glare. "I did what I had to."

"Sure," Noah drawled. "And look how well that turned out."

Damn brat.

Sylvie walked towards Noah and placed a hand on his shoulder, silencing him. "Enough," she said simply. "We don’t have time for this."

I swallowed back the lump in my throat and nodded. "You’re right."

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Noah fully. "You came here for a reason."

His hazel eyes darkened, the light amusement in them vanishing. "You know why."

The seal.

I clenched my jaw. "It’s not that simple."

Noah tilted his head. "Isn’t it?"

Sylvie tensed beside him, but she didn’t interrupt.

I exhaled slowly, rubbing my face again. "This isn’t something I can just undo, Noah."

The boy stared at me, expression unreadable. Then, without breaking eye contact, he said, "Try."

A challenge.

I held his gaze for a long moment before sighing.

"Fine."

Sylvie gasped softly.

Was it that hard to believe that I just wanted to help my wife?

Noah just smiled. A slow, knowing smile.

The past couldn’t be undone.

But maybe—just maybe, there was still time to fix what was left.

***