The Villains Must Win-Chapter 219: No Second Chances 19

"I’ll get us some water," he said, stepping aside and gesturing to the plush seating area outside the room.

"Sit. Before you fall."

Still wary but too tired to argue, Lina gave a silent nod and followed the man as he turned, his stride confident and measured down the polished aisle of the jet.

Her feet were heavy with exhaustion, her thoughts scattered, but her instincts remained sharp. She didn’t know if he truly trusted her—or if this hospitality was simply a matter of etiquette, a gentleman’s impulse to protect a stranded woman.

Was he just being kind?

Or was he buying time, figuring out who she was before deciding whether to toss her out mid-air?

His expression remained unreadable, carved in stern lines and aristocratic calm, the kind of face that didn’t easily betray emotion.

His commanding presence was enough to send grown men stiffly into attention, as proven earlier when his guards obeyed with a single glance.

Yet here he was, treating her with a level of civility she hadn’t expected, especially after stowing away on his private aircraft.

Maybe he thought she was harmless.

Maybe he just pitied her.

Whatever the case, Lina wasn’t going to argue with food, shelter, and an unplanned flight out of the country.

She would take this opportunity and use it wisely. She needed to play her part well—be small, unthreatening, polite, even charming if she had to—anything to avoid being thrown out at the next landing strip.

Her body moved on autopilot, but her mind remained sharp, watching everything.

Every polished surface.

Every camera.

Every door they passed.

If he changed his mind, if the kindness faded, she had to be ready.

Still, part of her couldn’t shake the small flutter in her chest when he glanced back, his voice smooth and deep as he said, "You’ll be safe here."

Safe.

She didn’t believe that. But as tired as she was, Lina wanted—just for a little while—to believe him.

The plane was massive.

The seating area was sleek and modern, with cream leather sofas, dark wooden tables, and a bar that could rival a five-star lounge. She sank into the nearest chair, gripping her bag tightly.

He returned moments later with two glasses of cold water and handed her one. "You have a name?" he asked.

She hesitated. ". . . Lina."

"Just Lina?"

"For now."

He studied her again, then nodded as if accepting that answer—for now.

"And you?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He sat across from her and sipped his own water before answering.

"Fredrich."

Of course he had a name like that. Regal. Cold. Dangerous. Beautiful.

"Nice to meet you, Fredrich," she said, voice low. "I’m sorry that we have to meet under this . . . weird circumstances."

"I’d say the same," he murmured, "but it’s not every day a stranger sneaks onto my jet and hides in my bed."

She flushed again. "I said I was sorry."

He chuckled. "I’m not angry. Just curious."

Lina wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

But for the first time in days, her heart didn’t feel like it was suffocating under the weight of Christian’s lies, and this stories unpredictability.

The quiet moment between them shattered with a sudden crash—the door to the cabin burst open.

Several large men stormed in, dressed in dark suits, each one armed and moving with precise, trained aggression. Their eyes scanned the room like predators, guns raised, and they locked instantly on Lina.

She froze, heart slamming against her ribs. One of them barked in a foreign language—German, maybe—and another advanced a step, the muzzle of his weapon pointed directly at her chest.

Her breath caught.

"Stand down!" Fredrich’s voice rang out, sharp and commanding.

The tension in the air sliced clean in half as the bodyguards halted, mid-stride. The one closest to her flinched, lowering his gun like a chastised dog.

Lina barely had time to register what was happening before the icy presence of Fredrich filled the room once more.

He stepped forward slowly, placing himself between her and the guards, his expression unreadable but dangerous in the way a storm looks before it breaks.

"She is my guest," Fredrich said, his voice steady and clipped, laced with authority.

The guards looked at each other, clearly unsettled. "But, sir," one of them began, "we thought—"

"You thought wrong," Fredrich snapped, not even looking back. "Put your weapons away. Now."

A tense silence followed, but one by one, the guards obeyed. Guns were lowered, holstered. Shoulders eased. Yet their eyes remained locked on Lina, suspicion clear in every glance.

Fredrich turned to her slowly, and for a moment Lina thought he might be angry at her—but no. His expression had softened. Just slightly.

"You’re safe," he said, his voice no longer cold. "No one will touch you while you’re with me."

Lina let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her legs felt weak under her, but she stood her ground, swallowing the rising fear.

Fredrich turned back to his men. "Prepare a meal for her. Something hot. And bring blankets."

One of the guards blinked. "Sir?"

"She’s not a stowaway," Fredrich said, brushing invisible dust from his shirt cuff with idle grace. "She’s my guest. And I expect you to treat her like one."

Another pause. Then the lead guard gave a sharp nod, and the others retreated like shadows fading in the light. The door hissed shut behind them, and silence once again fell in the cabin.

Lina stared at him.

"You didn’t have to do that," she said quietly.

He turned his head, one corner of his mouth tugging into a barely-there smirk. "Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t like people threatening what’s mine," he said simply.

The words hung heavy in the air, ambiguous and powerful. Something stirred in Lina’s chest—heat, confusion, warning. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"I’m not yours," she said, not harshly, but firmly.

Fredrich raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t say you were . . . At least not yet . . ."

Lina didn’t know if she heard him right. "What?"

Foll𝑜w current novℯls on fre𝒆web(n)ovel.co(m)