The Villain Who Stole Hearts
Chapter 108: Lyra Arrives

Chapter 108: Lyra Arrives

"Busy replying to your little lovers, are you?" Saoirse stepped into the room holding a slightly frosted ceramic bowl, her tone tinged with sarcasm. "Well, I suppose it makes sense. You’ve been unconscious for days without a single word. I bet your precious flings outside were all losing their minds."

She sneered as she watched Veil busy tapping on his phone. That expression on her face, coupled with the bowl in her hand—anyone would think this was a scene straight out of a classic novel.

Time to drink the medicine!

"Do I... really have to drink this?" Veil gulped and asked meekly.

Saoirse rolled her eyes. "Medicine? This is millet porridge, you idiot. You’ve been surviving on nutrient drips the past few days. The doctor said now that you’re awake, you can’t touch anything greasy or heavy. You’re only allowed light grains and simple food for now."

Whew...

She pulled a small stool from under the bed and sat beside him. Carefully, she scooped up a spoonful of the porridge, blew on it a few times, then lightly tested the temperature with her lips. Once she confirmed it wasn’t too hot, she brought it to Veil’s mouth.

"Ah~ open up."

Veil looked at her with gentle eyes, accepting each spoonful without a word.

But after a while, Saoirse grew uncomfortable under his gaze. She shot him another eye roll. "Why are you staring at me like that? Haven’t seen a woman before?"

"No, it’s not that," Veil said softly, a bittersweet look on his face. "I was just thinking... what did I do in my past life to deserve meeting someone like you? Did I save the universe or something?"

"Kai told me... you already know about the other girls."

He hesitated, then sighed. "With your personality, I can’t imagine you putting up with something like that. Honestly, I’m still in disbelief. Saoirse, I... I don’t even know how to begin to apologize."

Better to air out the skeletons while she was in a good mood—less chance of an all-out catfight if anything else came to light later. Understanding people was Veil’s true specialty.

Saoirse stirred the porridge lazily with the spoon, letting out a light snort. "Do I look like the kind of woman who gets petty over stuff like this?"

She shot him a sidelong glance.

"Don’t flatter yourself, Veil. I’m not going to go around picking fights over some meaningless drama. I have far bigger things to worry about. I’m going to build up the Rose Division, take over the Black Dragon Society, and make something of myself. Why would I waste time fighting with your little sweethearts for attention?"

"Enough with the pointless talk. I’ve been meaning to discuss the Rose Division with you, but there just hasn’t been a good chance."

As the thought crossed Saoirse’s mind, she instinctively shifted her tone to something more serious. But before she could finish her sentence, Veil interrupted her.

"No chance? Didn’t I try to meet with you several times before?"

"You’ve got some nerve bringing that up," Saoirse said with a teasing, seductive eye-roll. "Do you even know why you were looking for me each time? You think you ever gave me a second to talk business?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Anyway, let me finish. About the Rose Division—I want to grow it bigger. But that means we’ll need to recruit new members."

Veil nodded. "Absolutely. The goal should be to expand until the Rose Division surpasses the Black Dragon Society entirely. Bigger, better, and even more brilliant!"

Ideally, replace the Black Dragon Society altogether.

After all, we’re talking about an underworld gang—one filled with guys covered in tattoos and girls in skimpy skirts. Compared to the Rose Division, it’s not even a competition.

If the Rose Division grew strong enough, even street fights wouldn’t scare off bystanders. They’d just be a bunch of intellectuals huddled in a corner, admiring the scene.

Imagining it—getting kicked by one of those long legs... how great would that feel?

And that tight embrace? Damn, just let her choke me out already.

The picture in his mind was almost too good to be true.

"I’ve already started recruiting new members," Saoirse continued, stirring her thoughts aloud. "But I’ve kept the standards super strict to maintain quality. For example, only girls can join, and their combat strength has to be at least thirty percent of the Vice Leader’s."

She paused, a hint of frustration in her tone. "But then I realized most girls, even those from the streets, can’t even meet ten percent of a Vice Leader’s strength."

She frowned, deep in thought. "Do you think I should loosen the requirements? Maybe allow men to join too?"

Back when she founded the Rose Division, Saoirse had been a die-hard feminist, convinced that women were in no way inferior to men. That mindset led to an all-girl squad.

But she was younger then—naively idealistic, maybe even a little edgy. Now that she was older, a bit of that edge had worn off, and she was starting to reconsider.

Veil immediately shook his head. "No way. That’s a hard no. You can’t drop the standards—it has to stay tight, always!"

Was she kidding?

If the Rose Division allowed men in, what’s the point anymore?

Once it’s co-ed, all the standards go out the window. The Vice Leaders might as well pack up and leave!

"You don’t have to worry about combat strength," Veil said confidently, reaching out to touch Saoirse’s cheek—but the second he lifted his arm, pain shot through him, and his lips twitched involuntarily.

"Don’t move!" Saoirse snapped, alarmed.

A bitter smile appeared on Veil’s face. "Sorry. Still not used to this body yet. I just got a little carried away."

He took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "Like I said—whatever you decide to do, go for it. Stay true to your dream. No matter how many obstacles there are, I’ll help you tear every one of them down. Because you’re my woman."

His smile grew more pained as he lowered his gaze to the bandages wrapping his body, the wires and monitors hooked to his chest blinking steadily. With a self-deprecating chuckle, he added, "Saying things like this when I’m in this state... doesn’t it sound a little too ridiculous?"

Saoirse opened her mouth to speak but said nothing at first.

Then, for once, she leaned forward with rare tenderness, pressing her cheek gently into Veil’s palm. She nuzzled against it softly, her head tilted in a gesture of quiet intimacy, like a loving wife comforting her husband.

Looking up at him with a soft gaze, she whispered, "Not ridiculous at all. In my eyes, you’ve always been invincible. Hearing you say those words... it makes me really happy. And very satisfied. Besides, you’re already past the critical phase. You’ll recover soon."

Time passed in silence.

Neither spoke again, but both understood the unspoken bond that lingered in the air.

Saoirse rested her head at the bedside, quietly enjoying Veil’s hand as it gently stroked her hair. Every now and then, she let out a soft hum, eyes closed in comfort—like a spoiled little kitten.

Who knew how long that peaceful moment lasted?

Until, suddenly, a familiar voice echoed from just outside the hospital room.

"Excuse me, nurse? Have you seen a tall, handsome guy with an irresistibly charming smile? Oh—his name’s Veil. He looks a little pale."

"I don’t know his name," the nurse answered, "but there is someone pale-looking in the premium ward—second room down the hall."

"Thanks!"

Barely a second later, the rapid clack of high heels rang down the corridor, and a graceful figure appeared at the doorway. Her stunning face was etched with anxious concern.

Panic set in.

Not just in the newcomer’s eyes, but also on Veil’s face.

Lyra?!

What the hell is she doing here?!

Even Qin Lang wouldn’t have been able to hold back from muttering a silent curse had he been here: What the fuck?!

Just managed to calm one down, and now another one shows up?

No—wait!

The one who was calm is now suddenly tense again!

Veil glanced at his hand—empty now—while Saoirse, stiff and composed, sat upright by the bed.

Oh no. This was bad. Really bad.

"I’ll leave you two to talk..." Saoirse said with a stiff smile, her voice flat and cold. She stood up and walked away.

As she passed Lyra at the door, she paused slightly, gave her a sideways glance filled with quiet contempt, then turned her head and raised her chin proudly, brushing past without a word.

"Lyra, how did you know I was here?" Veil asked quickly, trying to shift the blame. "Was it Kai? I told him so many times not to bother others with this stuff, and now he’s gone and messed up again!"

The moment Saoirse left, Veil pounced on the opportunity to throw someone under the bus.

He hadn’t mentioned his location to anyone. Lyra’s sudden appearance could only mean someone let it slip. And most likely, it was Kai being careless again.

So, naturally, Kai would be taking the fall for this one.

Whatever the situation, first step: blame Kai.

After all, it wasn’t his first time serving as the scapegoat. People who knew, knew.

"Achoo!"

Outside the room, a groggy Kai sneezed loudly in his sleep, rolled over, and continued dreaming about checking into a hotel with a certain livestreamer.

Inside the room, Lyra shook her head. "It wasn’t anyone else. You gave yourself away with the photo you posted."

She pointed out the window toward a distinctive tree outside. "That tree’s pretty hard to miss. Every time I pass this area, I notice it. From your photo, I could figure out not just the hospital, but even the floor you’re on."

"Wow, that’s impressive," Veil said with a forced grin. "I never realized you were so talented in spatial recognition, Lyra. You’re not just academically gifted—you’ve mastered geolocation too!"

He was trying to change the subject.

Because he already heard the metaphorical fuse hissing.

The fireworks were about to explode.