NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain

Artis patted Hajin's shoulder, giving him a look of deep, understanding brotherhood.

"You're doing the right thing, Hajin."

The fool actually smiled in gratitude.

"Look... I'm sorry you have to see this. It's just..."

He started, his voice already losing its edge. Out of everyone here—even Lily—this man was the only one who treated him like an actual human being and not some disposable tool.

Maybe that's why, despite himself, he couldn't help but let his guard down, just a little.

"You don't have to say anything, Hajin, I get it."

Artis said, his voice steady, knowing.

"I crawled out of a family that makes this shit look like a cozy bedtime story. So trust me, I understand. Your safety, her safety—that's what matters, right? And if that means swallowing your pride and playing the coward, then fuck it. Cowards live longer."

Hajin blinked, his heart stuttering.

"Y-you mean...?"

"Of course, I mean that. Look, people love to act tough until they're staring down the barrel of real consequences. You do what you have to do. Protect her. Protect yourself. Nothing's braver than making sure the people you love get to wake up tomorrow in one piece."

The words hit Hajin deep, like a gut punch wrapped in silk. That was exactly what he'd been trying to do all along.

Just keep Lily safe. But no matter how much he sacrificed, no matter how much he bent over backwards, she just didn't fucking get it.@@novelbin@@

This man—this noble-looking, sinfully handsome bastard—who by all logic should have been a pompous, self-obsessed dickhead, had just whispered the most beautiful, heart-melting words Hajin had ever heard.

It was like a god had descended just to cradle his pathetic soul, whispering sweet reassurances while running divine fingers through his metaphorical hair.

'Shh, shh, Hajin, you're valid. You're loved. You're not a total fucking loser.'

A single tear wobbled at the edge of his eye, and for a horrifying moment, it nearly betrayed him.

'No, fuck no, not here, not in front of HIM.'

He clenched his jaw, turned away sharply, doing his best impression of a man who still had his shit together.

"Th-thank you… for your kind words…"

He croaked, his voice cracking like an old floorboard under the weight of his emotions.

And then—fuck, then—the bastard had the audacity to place a hand on his shoulder.

Not just any hand. A firm, confident, manly hand. The kind of hand that had probably gripped swords, steered horses, and ruined bedsheets.

Strong enough to break bones, yet right now, it was just… patting him. Comforting him.

'What kind of villainous aristocrat does this shit?!'

"You're doing great," Artis murmured, voice soft but commanding. "Just hang in there, okay?"

'Oh, hell no.'

Those words hit Hajin like a battering ram to his brittle little heart. The last shred of his emotional defenses collapsed.

The dam burst. Tears started flowing like he was in the final act of a tragic drama, and there wasn't a single fucking thing he could do about it.

He felt the man step away, his smooth, calculated footsteps fading into the distance, and Hajin could do nothing but silently thank every deity out there that this smug, perfect, dangerous bastard wasn't watching him ugly-cry like a bitch.

'I suppose… I can trust him with Lily, then…'

Oh, Hajin. Sweet, naïve little Hajin. That was exactly what the bastard wanted him to think.

Because even as he disappeared into the distance, his presence lingered, like the scent of expensive cologne and impending doom. The vulture had marked its prey.

And it wouldn't stop until it had its feast.

...

Outside, Lily stood like an impatient queen, arms folded, foot tapping aggressively against the dirt like she was trying to summon a demon.

Her face was set in a scowl—annoyed, frustrated, pissed—but the second she saw Artis stepping out, that expression flipped like a cheap coin trick.

A smile. A fake-ass, plastic-ass, so-fake-it-could-file-for-bankruptcy kind of smile. The kind of smile that said, I'm totally fine, everything is wonderful, while her soul was actively setting itself on fire.

But Artis wasn't buying that shit for a second.

From some corner, the drunken laughter of rowdy men echoed, their voices thick with whatever cheap swill they'd been guzzling. He couldn't see them though.

Lily took a deep breath, plastering on an even bigger fake-ass grin, the corners of her mouth twitching under the strain of maintaining the lie.

"I was excited to make you meet him, but I guess I got carried away and stormed out, huh?"

She let out a small, bitter chuckle, but her fingers curled ever so slightly, as if resisting the urge to punch something.

"He's a coward, right?"

That last part was said with the sweetest, most venom-dripping voice Artis had ever heard. It was like wrapping a knife in silk and sliding it between someone's ribs.

Artis stopped near her, standing close—too close. He met her gaze head-on, his smirk just a little too amused, just a little too knowing. He could practically see the storm brewing behind her pretty eyes.

"Yes," he said smoothly. "He is."

Lily stiffened. That single, flat confirmation shattered whatever flimsy act she'd been trying to keep up.

Her smile wavered, cracked, then completely crumbled as she looked down, her fingers clenching into her skirts.

"How long are you gonna put up with this shit, Lily?"

Artis drawled, his voice smooth, but carrying just the right amount of bite.

"How long are you going to let these drunk bastards whistle at you like you're the main course at a tavern feast? How long until one of them decides to stop barking and actually bite?"

Lily stiffened, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. She had no answer for that—because deep down, she knew he was right. It was bleak. Hopeless. And the worst part? She didn't know what the fuck to do about it.

Hajin had been there for her since childhood. He was safe. Familiar. Reliable. And maybe that's why she had eventually caved to his relentless pursuit—because familiarity was easier than venturing into the unknown.

But right now, looking at Artis, with his sharp gaze and arrogant smirk, she wondered—had she made a mistake?

She swallowed hard, then asked. Your next read is at My Virtual Library Empire

"What... what would you have done if you were in his shoes?"

The moment the words left her lips, Artis's expression changed.

A slow, knowing grin stretched across his face, the kind that made her stomach flip and her thighs clench involuntarily.

'Oh, fuck.'

She didn't know why, but something about the way he smiled just then sent a shiver right down her spine.

And then, just as casually as if he were adjusting his cuffs, Artis glanced over at the group of rowdy, drunken men laughing like hyenas in the corner.

He grabbed her hand.

"I'll show you how a real man protects his woman."

Lily's breath hitched. His grip was firm, warm, and utterly confident. Her pulse spiked.

Her brain screamed at her to pull away, to ask what the hell he was about to do—but her body?

Oh, her traitorous, traitorous body was already heating up from the sheer boldness of his touch.

'Shit.'

This was either going to be a disaster—or the most thrilling thing that had ever happened to her.