The Villain Who Stole Hearts
Chapter 139: The Choice — And Derek’s Killer Stare

Chapter 139: The Choice — And Derek’s Killer Stare

"Mr. Veil, is the pressure too much?"

"Does this feel okay on your shoulders?"

"How about this on your legs—does it feel good?"

Inside the VIP lounge of the Floral Spring Club.

Veil lounged back on a sofa while a girl in a sailor uniform—barely twenty, with a baby-faced charm—stood behind him, bending low to whisper in his ear as she massaged his shoulders. Whether intentional or not, her soft side bangs kept brushing against his ear, flirtatiously teasing.

To either side of Veil knelt two women of truly elite beauty—far beyond your average socialite. Any one of them would be the center of attention in any room. Yet here, they were kneeling at his feet, massaging his legs with practiced ease.

Occasionally, one of them would "accidentally" lose her balance, tumbling into Veil’s lap. With a flushed face and stammered apology, she would slowly sit herself upright again, trying to regain composure.

"What’s your name?" Veil asked casually, catching the sailor girl’s delicate hand in his and gently scratching her palm, reclining slightly to rest his head back against her chest, pressing against her heartbeat.

"You can just call me Mia, Mr. Veil," she replied sweetly, her voice soft and coy.

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen..." Mia mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

"So young. What are you doing working in a place like this? Don’t tell me someone forced you into this," Veil’s voice dipped slightly—low, cold.

Across from him, seated stiffly on another couch, a middle-aged man visibly flinched at Veil’s words, his body trembling slightly with fear.

Mia, sensing the tension, instinctively froze. She had never seen anything like this.

Usually, whenever a guest of high status arrived, the club owner would come out, drink loudly, laugh boldly, and boast with the best of them—flanked by women just like this.

But this time?

The club’s true owner—an older man who everyone simply referred to by his alias, Tiger Roar—stood silently at the side of the lounge, head lowered like some obedient underling.

He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t drinking. He wasn’t embracing anyone.

He was terrified.

Mia couldn’t help but glance at Veil in astonishment.

Who was this man?

How could someone command so much authority that even the owner of Floral Spring Club was reduced to a trembling subordinate?

She scrambled to smooth things over. "Mr. Veil, you’ve got it all wrong. No one forced me to do anything!"

"Yes, yes! It’s all a misunderstanding!" Tiger Roar jumped in nervously, bowing slightly. "Mr. Veil, truly, it’s just a misunderstanding."

Tiger Roar knew exactly who Veil was.

Others might not recognize him—but he did.

This was no ordinary guest. This was a man personally referred by the Black Dragon Society of Veyport City. They’d made it clear: treat this one like royalty. Even Saoirse herself had dropped enough hints to warn him who Veil truly was.

So the moment Veil stepped through the door of Floral Spring, Tiger Roar had rushed to the VIP lounge in person.

And he didn’t come empty-handed.

He brought out every top-tier beauty the club had to offer, hoping to impress the young Lancaster heir with impeccable service and luxurious company.

If Veil left satisfied, who knew? Maybe he could earn favor with the Black Dragon Society.

"Good," Veil muttered with a yawn, casually playing with Mia’s fingers like she was a toy.

The atmosphere in the lounge froze—dead silent. Even the sound of breathing suddenly felt loud.

Most of the people present didn’t dare move.

Except the two massage girls at Veil’s sides. They picked up on the shift quickly—sensing that the man before them held power far beyond a simple VIP. Their hands became more enthusiastic, their body language more overtly flattering.

Mia, too, felt her entire mindset shift.

Her boss wasn’t entertaining Veil. He was terrified of him.

A man like this... If she could get into his bed—even once—it could change her entire life.

Right then, a staff member rushed into the room, whispered something into Tiger Roar’s ear.

Tiger Roar’s expression turned dark.

He glanced toward Veil, then made a subtle slashing motion across his throat. The underling nodded quickly and left at a jog.

"What’s going on?" Veil asked lazily, pulling Mia forward so she was sitting beside him on the sofa, displacing one of the high-class women without a second thought.

He waved the other woman away too, leaving only Mia by his side.

Tiger Roar forced a tight smile. "Young Master Lancaster, I apologize. A little disturbance, nothing you need to worry about. I’ve already sent someone to handle it—it won’t interfere with your evening."

So he’s here already?

Faster than expected.

That was Derek for you—always quick to act.

Veil’s lips curled in a sly smile as he gently cupped Mia’s chin, his touch half-affection, half-contempt.

He looked her over with detached amusement.

Of course she was this eager. She was the greedy childhood friend of a protagonist, after all.

All it took was a little show of power, and she practically flung herself into his lap.

The only reason she was still "pure" was because the original author had written her that way—another lazy plot convenience.

In the original storyline, Mia and Derek had grown up together. Childhood friends. But when both families fell on hard times, they lost contact.

Later, Derek came looking for revenge on Tiger Roar. But upon discovering Mia was working here, he had a change of heart.

A tense but revealing conversation followed, clearing up the misunderstanding—and Tiger Roar even gave Derek some leads on his real enemies.

But now?

Now, because of Veil’s presence, everything had changed.

The moment Tiger Roar realized Veil might be disturbed, he panicked. And now he’d sent his men to intercept Derek—possibly even to kill him.

The misunderstanding was no longer a misunderstanding.

It was now a declaration of war.

"Lie down. I’m feeling a little tired," Veil murmured, stretching out on the couch and resting his head in Mia’s lap.

He stayed in that position, completely relaxed—waiting for Derek to arrive.

He didn’t care for women like Mia.

But if it helped ruin Derek’s script?

He could tolerate her for a while.

...

Bang!

It wasn’t long before the VIP suite’s grand double doors were kicked open from the outside with a thunderous crash.

The heavy doors slammed against the floor with a deafening noise.

A figure in white stepped through the entrance, radiating arrogance as he swept his gaze across the room—confident, commanding, unapologetically bold.

Before Derek could speak, a wave of figures surged in after him, surrounding him on all sides.

Tiger Roar clenched his fists, grinding his teeth in fury at the intruder. He couldn’t have been more enraged.

On any other day, encountering someone strong enough to break through his security perimeter might have made him pause—perhaps even consider recruitment. In their line of work, the stronger the fists, the brighter the future.

But now?

Derek’s sudden intrusion had already made Young Master Lancaster frown. If this escalated and ended up ruining the young master’s mood, Tiger Roar’s entire organization might not survive the fallout—let alone recruit anyone.

"Useless trash!"

"All of you—take him down! I want this punk crippled!"

"Don’t let him take a single step forward!"

Tiger Roar barked the order, glancing at his two top enforcers. Without hesitation, they moved toward the intruder to join the fray.

These were Tiger Roar’s best—the elite among his fighters.

Logically, dozens of men should have had the advantage over one.

But in reality?

They might as well have been children flailing against a hurricane.

With a single knife-hand strike, Derek dropped a man instantly. One sweeping kick launched another across the room, crashing into a group behind him and sending them all tumbling to the ground.

It was a massacre.

Derek stood in the center like a god of war—an immovable mountain towering over the sea of broken bodies around him.

Five minutes.

That was all it took.

Every one of Tiger Roar’s forty-plus men lay defeated—groaning, clutching limbs, or collapsed in pain, cursing through gritted teeth.

Derek stepped onto one enforcer’s head, the sole of his boot grinding into the man’s face. His eyes locked onto Veil as he sneered.

"So this is the backup you brought?"

"Everything you said back at the mine... you did it all just to provoke me, didn’t you?"

"Fine. I’m here now. Whatever tricks you’ve got—use them. Because after this, you won’t get another chance."

His voice was cold—icy enough to freeze hell itself.

He hadn’t dismissed the possibility that what his fourth senior sister said was true. Maybe Veil had found the listening device. Maybe all of this was calculated just to provoke him.

It all felt too deliberate.

But even if he suspected as much—so what?

Veil had insulted his senior sister’s honor. Anyone who dared do that, regardless of who they were, would pay a heavy price.

Not even Veil’s connections could save him.

"You’ve got to be kidding me." Veil sighed, shaking his head. "I just came out to relax, and now you’re here making a scene. What—don’t tell me you’re here to steal the girl from me?"

He nudged Mia beside him, drawing Derek’s attention to her.

And just as expected, with Veil intentionally emphasizing her presence, Derek took a longer, more careful look—and finally noticed something off.

He’d seen her the moment he walked in but hadn’t thought much of it. The place was full of beautiful women—maybe she just looked familiar.

But then he spotted it: a small, petal-shaped birthmark on her pale neck.

His eyes widened.

"You... you’re Mia?"

"You know my name? Do I know you?" Mia looked uneasy, clearly startled.

She didn’t remember having any friend who could fight like this—certainly not one who would go this far for her.

Derek pointed to himself, trying to jog her memory. "Mia—it’s me. Derek!"

That name sounded familiar.

Mia glanced at Veil. Only after receiving a subtle nod did she slowly step toward Derek.

Seeing his childhood friend again filled Derek with unexpected joy.

A bittersweet surprise.

"You remember, right? I lived next door when we were kids! I even stayed at your house for a while!"

He gently grabbed her hand and scanned the room with a chilling gaze.

"Mia, are these people hurting you? Your family used to be fine—what happened? Why are you here?"

"I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. But today... I’ll settle all the old scores—past and present."

Mia stood there dazed, looking at the boy she once knew, now standing tall to protect her. For a brief moment, a wave of childhood nostalgia washed over her.

Some memories were too distant—blurry and fading—but some lingered.

With Derek’s reminder, the memories started coming back.

They were close when they were young—played together all the time. Calling them childhood sweethearts wouldn’t be wrong.

Later, Derek’s family fell apart. Without his parents to care for him, he’d stayed at her home for a while.

That was when their bond had deepened.

She remembered—Derek had even once said that when he grew up, he’d come back to marry her.

But now, thinking about those childish promises... her heart filled with bitterness. After all the pain and harshness she’d endured in this world, she no longer believed in sweet words—only in cold, hard benefits.

"Derek, are you insane? Isn’t this mess already big enough?"

Mia yanked her hand free and pointed at the groaning bodies on the ground.

"I don’t know where you’ve been all these years, but why did you show up only to start a fight? What did they ever do to you?"

"My father’s company went bankrupt ages ago. He got caught up in some scandal and was sent to prison. My mom ran off with another man."

"Thankfully, the boss of Floral Spring took me in. He never forced me to do anything—I swear. He’s always protected me."

"So why, in your eyes, is everyone else just trash?"

Her voice trembled with rage as she poured out everything she had bottled up, breaking Derek’s grip.

Then, without hesitation, she turned and walked straight back to Veil.

Without so much as a second thought, she laid down in his arms.

Veil stretched out his arms and welcomed her with amusement, his eyes locked on Derek’s.

Their gazes clashed.

Veil could feel the murderous intent radiating off Derek—like he was about to devour him whole.

Veil, unfazed, gave Mia’s chest a light squeeze.

Well, what could he say?

When you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, you’d better be holding on to something solid... otherwise, it’s hard to feel secure.