My SuperVillain System: Building Legion of SSS-Ranked SuperHeroines
Chapter 98 - Thalia’s Peaceful Days

Chapter 98: Chapter 98 - Thalia’s Peaceful Days

The sunlight leaking through the giant windows didn’t make the Blac family mansion feel any warmer.

Thalia groaned as she blinked her eyes open. Another day. Another damn morning in this golden cage.

She sat up, rubbing her temples. The bed was too soft. The sheets too crisp.

Everything too... perfect.

She hated it.

’Why the hell am I still here?’ she muttered in her mind. ’Oh, right. Because I’ve got no choice.’

Cruxius had dumped her here just a few days ago—his idea of "helping."

After turning her life upside down, dragging her to his bed, ruining her life, and even after that instead of leaving her, he’d handed her over to his family, to his people. He said she should "be useful to him."

’Asshole,’ she thought, pulling herself out of bed and grabbing the first decent thing she could wear.

Downstairs, breakfast was already waiting. Fancy stuff, way too fancy for her taste. She picked at the food, not hungry but needing the energy. The eggs were fluffy, the toast warm, everything cooked like it belonged on a magazine cover.

She was halfway through when a familiar voice floated in.

"Miss Thalia, Master Ermond would like to see you in the study."

Of course. Ermond—the ever-so-stern, never-messing-around butler of the Blac family. She shut her eyes, feeling her lips tremble, set her fork down, and stood.

’Can’t even finish breakfast in peace.’

She followed the servant down the polished hallway. Marble floors. Gold trim. Expensive paintings on every damn wall. She hated how the place screamed money.

Not because she was poor, but because it reminded her how this was a place where she didn’t belong.

It was reminding her that she was in a cage, in a place that was not hers and could never be a place where she could stay for a longer time.

At the door, Ermond stood waiting, hands behind his back like always. His expression didn’t shift when he saw her—no greeting, no emotion. Just those sharp eyes that made her feel like she was under constant examination.

"You’re late," he said plainly.

"I was eating," she shot back before biting her tongue. ’Stupid Thalia. Don’t talk back.’

She recalled how she should keep her manners in check, considering whatever had brought her here. She should take it in an optimistic way, considering she was learning things from him, which was too much of a favor.

If she saw this in a positive light, this might really change her life in a good way.

He didn’t argue. Just turned and walked, expecting her to follow. She did.

The study was already buzzing. Papers stacked. A digital board lit with stock prices and charts. A pile of folders placed neatly in front of an empty chair—that was hers.

"Seven meetings today. Take notes. Watch everything. Ask no questions unless prompted," Ermond said, not even looking at her.

Thalia dropped into the chair, already feeling her back ache. Her fingers itched for the pen. She hated this. But she also knew something deep down:

’This is all I’ve got.’

Because if she played this right, learned enough... she might actually stand a chance at a future where she wasn’t just someone’s pawn.

This butler, Ermond, he wasn’t normal. He ran circles around CEOs, lawyers, politicians. And he was teaching her—even if it was harsh and cold.

’Cruxius probably thought I’d crack,’ she thought, flipping open her notebook. ’But jokes on him. I’ll take everything I can get. And one day, when he’s done playing with me, I’ll walk away with enough to build my own damn empire.’

The day dragged on.

Meetings with managers. Legal strategy sessions. An aggressive acquisition plan of some struggling firm.

Every word mattered.

Ermond corrected her approach for deals mid-sentence, asked her questions she didn’t know how to answer, and then made her figure it out.

By the fifth meeting, her head was pounding.

’God, this is torture.’

By the seventh, she wanted to throw the pen across the room.

But she didn’t. She pushed through. She kept writing. Watching. Learning. Absorbing.

Evening came.

Ermond dismissed the last visitor with a curt nod. The room was finally quiet. Thalia’s back screamed. Her fingers were numb from all the writing.

She stood, wobbling slightly.

"Thank you for the opportunity," she muttered, almost out of habit now. She gave a quick, tired bow to Ermond and turned to leave for her room.

But then—

His phone rang.

A sharp buzz cut through the silence, vibrating against the polished wood of the desk. Ermond moved fast—almost too fast—snatching it up before the second ring finished.

"Yes?"

His voice was low. Crisp. The usual chilled edge of a man who never raised his tone unless he meant to end someone’s career.

But then something changed.

A beat passed on the line.

Then—

"What?!"

The word tore from him, raw and loud, slamming into the quiet room like a gunshot.

Thalia flinched.

Ermond was on his feet, chair screeching back against the marble floor as his knuckles whitened around the phone. His mask of composed ruthlessness cracked—jaw tight, brow furrowed deep enough to leave trenches.

Thalia froze mid-step. She’d never heard him like this.

Not when signing death warrants for bankrupt families.

Not when arranging backdoor trades that toppled boardrooms overnight.

Not even when people begged for mercy.

"...Sir Ermond?"

She took a hesitant step forward. Her brows pinched, eyes scanning his face for something—anything—that made sense.

"Is something wrong?"

No answer.

Just silence—and the faint tremble of his fingers around the phone as he lowered it from his ear.

Then, finally, he turned.

And his voice was tight. Tense. Laced with something rare and unfamiliar.

"Get ready," he said. "We’re leaving. Now."

"What?" Thalia blinked, heart stumbling into her throat. "Where are we going?"

His eyes met hers.

For the first time in all the weeks she’d known Ermond, Thalia didn’t see steel or distance.

She saw fear.

Real fear. Quiet and buried, but there.

"...Young Master Cruxius. He’s been attacked. Badly injured. They’ve taken him to the hospital," he said, voice low but urgent.

The world tilted under her feet.

Cruxius.

That name. That cursed name.

Thalia’s stomach twisted so hard it felt like someone had punched her. Her breath caught, lips parting—but no sound came.

’Cruxius...?’

Her thoughts stuttered. She didn’t know what to think. What to feel.

But her body moved.

Ermond had already thrown on his coat, movements sharp and mechanical. The doors swung open at his approach, staff flinching back as he passed. He wasn’t waiting.

Thalia chased after him, feet almost tripping over themselves.

’What the hell... did he get beaten after trying to hit on some woman?’