Villainess Marked For Her Alpha-Chapter 111: A Knight Never Attack’s Their Master’s Virtue

Hellen squeezed a generous dollop of cool shampoo into her palm—zesty orange laced with creamy vanilla—tilting my head back gentle as she worked it slow into my raven hair, fingers kneading my scalp firm but tender, nails scraping delicious tingles from crown to nape.

Suds foamed thick white under the messy bun’s total collapse, bubbles trailing warm rivulets down my neck and shoulders, easing every knot of tension.

"You like this scalp massage, don’t you, princess? Admit it—feels like heaven."

"Yes," I admitted breathy, emerald eyes half-lidded in reluctant bliss, hot water lapping my foam-covered chest. "But I’d like it more if you weren’t acting like a hooligan—kissing my nipples without asking." Hellen was really attacking my virtue without any single thought.

She laughed low and rich, thumbs circling deeper into my temples, sending shivers down my spine. "Princess, your knight isn’t taking a single dime to protect you. This—your pretty blushes, that sweet omega scent blooming in the steam—is her well-earned payment."

"You kissed my nipple as the payment!"

"That was the bonus."

Her free hand grazed my bare shoulder teasing, tracing a soapy swirl, lavender mist curling thick around us both.

"It’d be better if you just took money from me," I muttered stubborn, sinking chin-deep into the bubbles, arms crossed tight over my modest foam shield—rosy peaks safely hidden.

"A knight would never stoop to coin," she teased in full knightly flourish, voice mock-heroic as she cupped warm water, rinsing suds in cascading sheets. "Honour demands... sweeter tolls. Like this." She pecked my wet forehead quick, grinning.

"A knight never attacks their master’s virtue!" I shot back prim and proper, splashing a handful of bubble-foam her way defiant, emerald eyes flashing playful challenge through the steam. ’Also, can you stop kissing me?"

Her eyes locked intense, voice dropping husky sincere. "I want you as my wife too, Emily—mine forever, legs walking or not."

Heat scorched my pale cheeks anew crimson; I splashed water wild at her face, droplets beading her loose waves like jewels. "You’re shameless! Utterly shameless!"

"Am I? Maybe." She winked unphased, licking a stray drop from her full lip slow. "Guilty as charged, princess. But you love it."

"Why target Viktor, then?" I pivoted firm, voice steadying amid the flutters. "Real talk—no more flirting." I am pretty sure Hellen’s learning from some course about flirting, and is failing—if I can recognize her attempts.

But I am a weak target, aren’t I?

Blushing at her weird remarks is making me feel like an idiot.

"Emily, you think I’d let the woman I love get gutted by those vipers on live TV and just leave them unscathed?" Her massage paused, grip tightening protectively on my soapy shoulders, jaw set. "No chance."

"What if they haven’ said anything on TV?"

"I am not a forgiving person. Certainly not a follower of Buddhism."

"Hellen, I don’t... know if I can... reciprocate like that," I trailed off shy, heart fluttering conflicted, bubbles popping soft around my limp legs.

"Even if you don’t love me back—yet—I won’t stop protecting you. Ever. That’s a vow." She resumed rinsing gentle, fingers combing through my clean strands like silk.

"It’s not your right," I whispered stubborn, but leaning traitorous into her touch, scalp tingling bliss.

"I patented that right long ago—Ivory and Reyes can fuck right off." Her grin turned possessive fierce, scooping more water over my gleaming hair. "They don’t get to claim you."

"You’re too much," I breathed, half-laughing helpless, suds popping merry around us.

"Too much for you? Never—not even close." She tilted my head back for the final rinse, pristine wet strands fanning out. "My plan starts small—pet trackers, smart collars with GPS. Then gaming rigs, laptops, custom chips, mobiles. Crush their whole lane, step by step."

"Are you copying my expansion blueprint, Ms. Jackson?" I arched a sly brow, slipping into business mode, water sloshing.

"In a way, Ms. Leonhart—stealing your genius, fair and square." She pressed a chaste forehead kiss, lingering warm, tub water cooling as all tension melted fully to trust, her loose waves framing our shared smile. "What’s next, wife-to-be? Conditioner?"

"I’m not your wife-to-be!" I protested loud, splashing water emphatic at Hellen’s grinning face, droplets scattering like diamonds across her loose waves, emerald eyes flashing defiant through the lingering steam.

"Oh?" she drawled teasing, blue eyes twinkling mischief as she wrung out the last suds from my raven hair, unfazed by the mini-wave.

"No, I’m not!" I insisted stubborn, cheeks burning fresh crimson, arms hugging my foam-covered chest tighter, limp legs shifting bubbles restless in the cooling tub.

"Well, I’m sure you will be—mark my words, princess," Hellen murmured confident, winking slow as she reached for the conditioner bottle on the tub edge—creamy vanilla promising with a gleaming look.

"Shut up! And apply the conditioner already!" I huffed half-laughing, half-pouting, sinking lower to my chin in mock defeat, pink nails flicking one last playful splash her way.

She chuckled victorious, squirting a dollop into her palm, working it gentle through my wet strands—fingers detangling slow from roots to ends, scalp tingling renewed bliss. "As my lady commands... for now."

Her loose waves brushed my shoulder as she leaned close, honey-citrus scent mingling with lavender, sealing the moment warm and unspoken.

"Your lady will always command you!" I declared triumphant, voice ringing bold from the tub, water sloshing as I pointed a soapy finger at Hellen’s amused face, emerald eyes gleaming playful through damp raven strands.

"My cute omega wants to be dominant now?" she teased back, eyes widening mock-surprise, conditioner-slick fingers pausing mid-detangle in my hair, her loose waves framing a wicked grin.

"I’m not your cute omega!" I shot back instant, cheeks flaring crimson again, splashing a fresh wave her way—bubbles flying, foam dotting her rolled sleeves.

"Cat, then?" Hellen pivoted smooth, arching a brow sly, resuming her gentle combing, thumbs pressing delicious circles at my nape.

"No! Why are you always comparing me to a cat?!" I yelped indignantlly.

"Because you are a cat, Emily."