CHAPTER 12: LET THE GAME BEGIN

(Evelina’s POV — Streets of Aurelis City—Continuation)

The moment my heels touched the pavement, the world slowed down.

Sunlight bounced off shattered glass and silver metal. The faint scent of smoke clung to the air—sharp, sterile, and expensive. And in the middle of it stood him.

Theo Vinter.

Even in chaos, he looked like it had been tailored for him. Hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly as he grabbed the terrified driver, who stumbled backward. His expression was unreadable—a calm kind of fury, the kind that didn’t need to shout to be heard.

When his gaze shifted to me, the air changed.

Molten gold. Cold. Calculating. Curious.

"Ah."

Theo Vinter’s voice was low—unhurried, dangerous in the kind of way that didn’t need volume to command fear.

"The passenger finally decides to show herself."

He scanned me slowly, his gaze moving from the hem of my black dress to my face like he was cataloguing a problem he intended to solve. His lips curved faintly.

"Oh," he murmured. "Evelina Hartgrave... the one they call the Witch."

[System: Warning—Consequences Ahead.]

I clenched my fist at my side.

Perfect. Just perfect. I’d managed to offend both destiny and the mafia in the same hour.

I drew a breath, forcing a faint, poised smile. "Mr. Vinter," I said evenly, "it appears there’s been a misunderstanding."

His eyes—sharp, molten gold under sunlight—lingered on me for a fraction too long.It wasn’t curiosity. It was a calculation. The kind of stare that stripped you down to your weakest variables.

Then, very casually, he released the driver. The man nearly collapsed in relief.

"Misunderstanding," Theo repeated, tasting the word like it was wine he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish. "That’s one way to describe crashing into my Precious car."

Behind him, two of his men adjusted their coats—small, practiced motions that whispered we’re armed.

I smiled thinly. "I could say the same about you parking in the middle of the road, Mr. Vinter."

His brow twitched. Just a fraction. The faintest crack of amusement touched his lips—gone almost as quickly as it came.

He closed the distance between us by a step, the space shrinking until the air itself felt heavy. "Are you implying I’m the one at fault, Miss Evelina?"

[System: Warning! Danger! Danger!]

Oh, wonderful.The system was basically screaming, "Girl, stop talking!" while my mouth kept doing the opposite.

"Not at all," I said smoothly, tilting my head with a polite smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "I’m merely suggesting that even perfection can have blind spots."

Theo went still. Then—slowly—he reached into his pocket, pulled out a sleek black handkerchief, and wiped an invisible smudge off his gold cufflink. The small viper emblem glinted in the light.

Every movement was deliberate. Measured. Controlled. Like a predator making you watch before it pounced.

Finally, his gaze flicked back to me. "Tell me something, Miss Hartgrave." His voice dropped to a murmur—smooth, velvet, and venomous all at once. "Do you make a habit of ruining people’s mornings... or was I simply lucky today?"

I let out a faint, humorless laugh. "Luck has nothing to do with it, Mr. Vinter. I’m more of a... consequence."

He paused. The corner of his mouth tilted up, sharp and dangerous."Consequence," he echoed. "That’s a bold word for someone standing in front of me."

My pulse spiked. But my face didn’t flinch. "Boldness is just fear with better posture."

The bodyguards exchanged wary glances. Theo’s smile deepened—slow, like the start of something he wasn’t supposed to enjoy.

"Fear," he repeated quietly. "Is that what you think this is?"

His tone was light, but his eyes weren’t. They burned. And for a heartbeat, I swore the air itself leaned closer, waiting to see if I’d break.

I didn’t.

"I think," I said softly, "that you’re angry your morning didn’t go according to plan."

His gaze sharpened—interest flickering for just a breath. "And you think you can fix it?"

I smiled, unblinking. "No. I just think I make an excellent distraction."

Silence stretched between us—taut, crackling, almost electric. The kind of silence that lives between a knife’s inhale and a gun’s exhale.

Then Theo chuckled. A low, quiet sound that didn’t belong in sunlight. "You’re a strange woman, Miss Hartgrave."

"And you," I said, matching his tone, "have terrible luck with traffic."

For a moment—just a moment—his composure fractured. A real smirk touched his lips. "Maybe so."

Then his eyes darkened again, colder now, the amusement retreating behind steel.

"Try not to make a habit of crossing paths with me," he said finally, stepping back. "Some people don’t get a second chance."

The way he said it wasn’t a threat. It was a prophecy.

Then he stepped back, the sound of his shoes against the asphalt neat and precise. He slid into his car with a kind of grace that only men accustomed to violence could have. The door shut softly—too softly for the amount of chaos he carried with him.

And just like that, Theo Vinter was gone.

The air rushed back into my lungs like I’d been holding it for years.

I exhaled slowly. "Well," I muttered, voice steady but tired. "At least I didn’t die today."

The System chimed in its usual emotionless tone:

[Theo Vinter—Affection +1% → 1%]

I blinked. "Oh... not negative, at least. That’s new."

A near-death encounter and I’d managed to come out with a single percent. Honestly, that was probably my personal best.

I got into the car, smoothing the skirt of my dress as if that entire exchange hadn’t shaved five years off my lifespan. "Let’s go," I said, my tone clipped but calm.

"Yes, Miss." The driver’s voice trembled with relief as he climbed back behind the wheel. His hands were still shaking as he started the engine.

The car eased forward, the hum of luxury cushioning the leftover adrenaline still buzzing in my veins. Outside, the city blurred into streaks of gold and chrome, but my eyes caught on the sleek black sedan pulling away ahead of us.

Theo’s car.

He didn’t look back, of course. Men like him never did. They didn’t have to.

Still... I caught myself watching the way his vehicle disappeared around the corner—smooth, decisive, and final. Like closing a door on something I shouldn’t have opened.

My reflection glimmered faintly in the tinted glass. Eyes Calm. Expression unreadable.

"I hope..." I murmured under my breath, "I never encounter him again."

The the city rolled by outside in a blur of gold and gray, and for a while, the silence inside the car felt almost... kind.

By the time we reached Aurelis Plaza, the world outside had shifted into its weekend rhythm—rich people walking like they owned gravity, luxury cars gleaming under banners embroidered with gold thread.

The Auction Hall loomed ahead like a cathedral of greed—tall marble pillars, glass walls, and a crimson carpet that screamed "we sell morals here, too."

The car slowed to a stop at the entrance. The driver hurried to open the door.

As my heels clicked against the marble, the echo trailed like the ticking of a countdown. Then—there it was. A faint shimmer flickered at the corner of my vision.

[System: Objective Active—Purchase an item from the Auction Hall.][Reward: ???][Caution: Timeline Distortion Detected.]

I frowned. "Timeline distortion? What’s that supposed to mean?"

No response. Of course. The System was many things—cryptic, cruel, and unhelpfully dramatic—but never conversational.

Before I could press for more details, the blue text blinked once—then vanished entirely. Gone. Just poof, like it didn’t want to deal with me either.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "What do I even expect...?"

The air inside was rich with perfume and money. Laughter, champagne glasses, polite lies. It was the same kind of luxury that hid rot beneath gold leaf.

A hostess in a red dress glided toward me, a silver tray balanced in her hands. Elegant, rehearsed. "Welcome to the Aurelis Annual Auction, Miss Hartgrave. Please take a mask—required for tonight’s theme."

I studied the tray. Masks of every color gleamed under the chandelier’s light—crimson velvet, gold lace, and white satin.

And one—black as ink, with a single silver feather curling at the edge. I reached for it, the metal cool against my fingertips. It felt like a choice.

Sliding the mask into place, I caught my reflection in a passing mirror—half-hidden, half-shadow.

A perfect disguise for a villainess who’d learned to play nice with monsters.

My lips curved faintly. "Alright..." I murmured under my breath, straightening my shoulders as I stepped forward into the glittering chaos.

"...Let the game begin."

The doors of the auction hall closed behind me with a soft, echoing click.