Villain Ch 1926. Certified Dicktator
And another wild night came. Loud. Bright. Stupid in all the right ways.
Cards slapped the floor. Screams echoed down the villa hallway—some of victory, some of betrayal.
Somehow it turned into a bet. Then a dare. Then lingerie. Then Jane's dirty sticker came out. Again.
Allen lost track of how many were slapped on his chest. Or lower. And whose hands were where.
And then it wasn't just giggles and games anymore. It was bodies pressed together in the hot spring. Steam clinging to skin. Laughter dissolving into moans. Zoe's nails down his spine. Shea's lips on his throat. Azura's trembling breath in his ear.
It all blurred.
The kind of night you didn't just live—you survived.
The morning after always hits like a boss-level hangover.
Allen grunted.
His body refused to move. Even blinking felt like a chore. His head throbbed, not from alcohol, but from sheer overstimulation.
He cracked open one eye.
Ceiling. White.
