Villain: Ultimate Mutation System in the Alternate World

Chapter 252: Haunting Past

CLICK!

"Sir, we are already closed," a female store employee hurried towards the door as five men entered.

She felt intimidated by their presence, but remained respectful, avoiding eye contact.

All of them wore black coats except one, who stood out in a gray formal jacket and golden-rimmed sunglasses.

The man in gray had brown hair, piercing eyes, and a prominent nose. His expensive-looking watch probably cost millions. He moved with an air of arrogance, like someone used to getting what he wanted.

"I'm looking for the owner," he said, his tone commanding.

He took a seat while the other men stood guard near him.

The employee was flustered . Fortunately, her boss stepped in.

"I'm the owner. How can I help you?" Cyril came out from the kitchen, still wearing her apron.

It gave her the air of a caring, beautiful housewife who could make any man's heart skip a beat with her charm.

The man in gray was momentarily stunned. He adjusted his glasses, not believing his eyes.

Cyril's presence captivated him. Even with his experience with actresses and models, they paled in comparison to her effortless charm.

He reflected on his past experiences; those women were only good for short-term fun in bed, but he often grew bored or annoyed due to their lack of personality and depth.

Cyril noticed his reaction but didn't react; she was used to such attention.

The other men eyed her lewdly too, but they were mistaken if they thought she was easy prey. She could incapacitate them in seconds if needed.

"Good, very good! You're even more beautiful in person!" the man in gray clapped, pleased with what he was seeing .

He stood up to hug her, but she stepped back, and kept her distance.

She clenched her fists, feeling objectified. She considered using the knife hidden at her waist but held back, not wanting to ruin her peaceful life over one rude man.

CLAP!

CLAP!

CLAP!

The man continued clapping, ignoring her discomfort.

'Calm down,' She took a deep breath, maintaining her composure.

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Vincent... Vincent Hewlet," he said with an arrogant smirk.

'No!' Cyril's heart sank .

Vincent Hewlett—the owner of Pantheon Corporation and the man she was supposed to marry.

She had tried to forget that name, but now he came knocking on her door, ready to ruin the life she was trying to protect.

"It seems we have a lot to catch up on, Cyril," Vincent remarked, satisfied by her reaction.

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'This bastard…' Cyril fought to stay calm, avoiding eye contact to hide her disgust .

"I heard about your family. I'm sorry for your loss," he said insincerely.

"Thank you for your concern," she nodded, choosing to play it safe.

"Don't worry about it ! We're practically family! Even though your family lost everything, I'm still willing to marry you. It's a good deal, right?" His words dripped with arrogance.

"I'm sorry, but that engagement was off the moment my father died," she replied, her frustration barely concealed.

"Nonsense. Your father promised me you'd marry me. You can't just act like it never happened!" Vincent insisted, stepping forward.

Cyril moved away, her disgust evident in her face. She could no longer hold her emotions.

"Hey, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Vincent snapped, his voice cold and eyes blazing with annoyance. "I'm being nice here, and you dare give me that look?"

"Please Leave now, or I'll call the police," an employee interjected, unable to stay silent anymore.

Vincent turned angrily. "Police? Do you know who I am? I own this whole City ! I could beat you to death, and no one would help you!" he roared.

"I— I," the employee stuttered, tears streaming down her cheeks as she sat on the floor, her legs failing her.

Cyril stepped protectively in front of her.

"Enough! Leave now," Cyril commanded firmly, raising her hand protectively towards her trembling employee.

Vincent sneered in disdain, his eyes filled with anger.

"You're making a mistake. Marrying me is your best option. Think about your future, your family's legacy."

Cyril shook her head, her voice steady. "My future is my own to decide. Now, please leave."

Vincent's face twisted with rage. "This isn't over. You will regret this. I will make your life hell until you beg for me! " He turned on his heel and stormed out of the store, his men following close behind.

BAM!

The sound of the door being forcefully slammed shut echoed through the room.

The employee let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her face.

"Thank you, Boss. I didn't know what to do."

Cyril gave her a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You're safe now,."

She glanced at the door where Vincent had just left, her expression hardening.

"But we need to be careful." She added and instructed her employees to lock up the store immediately.

Fear rippled through the small team as they hurriedly closed down the Roll Up cover of the store.

When they were finished, Cyril called everyone together and handed them each an envelope filled with their month's pay.

"Please be careful on your way home. I've arranged a ride for you guys, don't worry. I'll cover the cost, and...." Cyril assured her employees, her voice trailing off momentarily. "I think it's best to close the store for a few days until I sort this out," she added with a heavy tone.

The employees could sense her distress beneath her composed exterior.

They had worked with her long enough to recognize the subtle signs—the slight furrow in her brow, the tightness around her eyes, and the occasional deep breath she took to steady herself.

They knew she was grappling with emotions far beyond their control or understanding.

"Boss, are you sure you're okay?" one her employee asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Cyril met her gaze, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm fine,"

***

In her second-floor office, Cyril locked the door and opened her computer.

She began by scheduling money transfers to her employees' accounts, enough to sustain them for three years without needing to work.

Next, she set up donations to orphanages and other charities, ensuring the funds would be disbursed in a monthly basis unless canceled.

Lastly, she allocated funds for Melissa to ensure Wick, would be well cared for. She had grown to loved that dog.

Each action was a deliberate effort to secure the future of those she cared about amidst the uncertainty brought by Vincent Hewlett's visit.

With everything set, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

When she reopened them, her demeanor shifted entirely.

Her eyes sparkled with determination. She stood up and pressed a hidden button on the bookshelf, which swung open to reveal another room.

Inside, rows of weapons lined the walls—guns, swords, and high-tech gear neatly arranged. In the middle of the room, under a glass case, was her power suit.

This suit wasn't just for show; She had invested a significant portion of her savings to acquire it from the black market.

It was the kind of gear that only Tier 2 mercenaries could access—sleek and black with white accents at the joints.

'Too bad… I won't be here when you come back,' Cyril muttered to herself, a fleeting memory of a strong figure that had briefly stirred her heart.