Chapter 37: Who Is The Villain, Really?

The meeting room rests in silence.

No voices. No footsteps. Only the soft hum of the lights above us.

Deniz sits beside me, straight-backed, disciplined, his attention fixed on the file in front of him. I flip a page slowly, the faint sound of paper slicing through the quiet. My eyes skim over flawless faces—models sculpted by perfection, elegance sharpened by distance.

Beautiful.

But empty.

Another page.

I glance sideways.

Deniz hasn’t moved. His gaze is steady, professional, unreadable. I look back down and turn the page again.

Then—

I stop.

My fingers still.

A face holds me captive.

Hair the color of the open sky, shimmering softly under the studio lights. Pale skin, almost luminous. Eyes—clear, bright, impossibly vivid—like morning light reflected on calm water. Not just beautiful. Sharp. Alive.

My breath slows.

“I think…” I murmur, “…this one suits perfectly.”

Deniz looks up immediately. Surprise flickers across his composed expression.

“Sir… that’s—”

I lift my eyes from the photograph to him. “What’s the problem?”

He blinks, caught off guard, then hesitates before answering,

“Sir… that’s Mr. Moon Arden. Your cousin.”

The name lands quietly.

Moon Arden.

The male lead.

My gaze drifts back to the image. Sky-blue hair. Bright, clear eyes. A face described too well in the novel to be coincidence.

So this is him.

An S-class alpha.

I study the photograph longer now. There’s something sharp beneath the beauty—pride, maybe. Beautiful, but not fragile. Elegant, but not cold.

I breathe out slowly.

“…So,” I think slowly, “…this is the male lead.”

“Sir?” Deniz calls again, softer.

I blink and return to the present. I meet his eyes and allow a faint smile to curve my lips.

“Then he’s perfect,” I say calmly. “Select him for the Best Feeling project.”

Deniz adjusts his glasses, hesitation tightening his posture.

“Sir… I don’t think Mr. Moon will accept.”

Silence settles between us.

He’s right.

In this story, Zyren Kael is a villain—someone who leaves scars wherever he goes. Moon Arden isn’t just another enemy. He’s blood. Family.

Cousins who never reconciled.

A childhood fight. A wound left too deep. After that day, Moon left for K Country—and never looked back.

Deniz watches me closely, confusion threading through his calm.

I lean back slightly, my voice steady, thoughtful.

“Deniz,” I say, “I want to meet him.”

He stiffens.

“Arrange a dinner.”

Deniz exhales slowly before responding,

“Sir, Mr. Moon’s schedule is always extremely tight… but I’ll do my best.”

I nod once. “That’s enough.”

He stands to leave.

“Deniz.”

He turns.

I recline into my chair, fingers resting lightly on the armrest.

“Make sure the place is private.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closes behind him with a muted click.

The room falls quiet again—too quiet.

I lift Moon Arden’s photograph once more, studying the face that was never meant to appear this late in the story.

“…Finally,” I murmur inwardly.

“I found the male lead.”

Then a faint frown forms in my thoughts.

I don’t know what’s wrong with this novel.

Even the male leads are arriving late to their own story.

“This novel is behaving strangely, as if it’s drifting off its own plot.”

The night is dark.

I stand beside the long glass wall, one hand resting against the cold surface, staring down at the city. Lights scatter below like fallen stars—bright, distant, untouchable. I don’t want to go back to the Kael mansion. Not tonight.

Zyke’s face flashes in my mind again. The anger in his eyes. The pressure of his presence.

I don’t know what he’s planning next—and that uncertainty exhausts me more than anything else.

I’m tired of him.

Tired of that pathetic alpha who wears cruelty like a crown.

A knock breaks the silence.

The door opens, and Deniz steps inside.

“Sir,” he says carefully, “the staff are asking… why you aren’t joining them for dinner.”

I turn from the window. A small smile curves on my lips—thin, practiced.

“I can’t come,” I say.

Deniz lowers his gaze. After a moment, he speaks again, slower this time.

“Sir… the dinner party is from you. You should join them.”

My smile fades.

I look at him properly now, my voice quieter, heavier.

“Deniz… I don’t feel well. I’m exhausted.”

He lifts his eyes. Worry flickers there, brief but real. Then he nods.

“I’ll inform the staff.”

I nod back.

As he turns to leave, I speak again.

“Deniz.”

He stops.

“You’re going to the dinner with them,” I say.

He looks at me in silence for a second, then nods once.

“Yes, sir.”

Another nod from me.

He leaves, the door closing softly behind him.

I turn back to the glass wall. The city is still shining—but it no longer feels beautiful. My reflection stares back at me, blurred by light and glass.

I don’t smile anymore.

Who could be happy knowing their own brother attacked them?

And who knows what that brother plans next?

The room feels larger now. Colder.

I walk forward, my footsteps echoing behind me. My face is blank, emotion carefully sealed away. The guards bow and pull the doors open. I step out of the company building, and the cold night air strikes my face—sharp, sobering.

Deniz is gone.

He’s at dinner with the staff.

So tonight, I go straight back to the mansion.

The driver opens the car door. I slide into the backseat, the leather cool beneath me. The door shuts with a muted thud, cutting me off from the outside world.

I take a slow breath.

Neon, calm down.

Just relax.

The car starts moving.

I stare out the window in silence. Streetlights stretch and blur, gold lines melting into the darkness as we pass. My reflection flickers faintly on the glass—unfamiliar, distant.

I don’t know how to make things right anymore.

I try my best to make things right with Zyke, but judging by the way he acts… it doesn’t feel like his anger is just about the past.

Everything is tangled— A story that refuses to stay simple.

For the first time, doubt settles deep in my chest.

In this novel…

who is the villain, really?

And why does it feel like the answer keeps changing?

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