I Became the Master of the Villain

When the buttons popped off his shirt, revealing muscles so perfect they could’ve been sculpted by the gods themselves… and when I’d caressed them like some priceless treasure—
That memory came rushing back.
I had no idea why that particular moment was the only thing I could remember when everything else was a blur.
Maybe it was because the divine sensation was still lingering at my fingertips?

‘Ugh. Saying it like that makes me sound completely sexually frustrated.’
A sudden wave of shame crashed over me, and I snapped back to reality. To the cursed reality that I’d made a complete ass of myself drunk.
My face burned with the full realization of what I’d done.

‘Die, past me!’
I clutched at my hair, trying not to cry. 
‘Damn it, alcohol’s the enemy. The damn enemy.’

But no matter how much I regretted it, what’s done is done. And this wasn’t something I could clean up with a normal apology.
‘I wish I could go back in time.’
You see that in novels all the time. Couldn’t it work for me too?

Barely holding myself together by the second, I finally managed to glue my shattered dignity back enough to say what I had to.
There was only one thing I could say in this situation. I hesitated, then mustered the courage to speak to Kian.
“…I’m sorry about last night.”

At those words, Kian tilted his head.
“About what?”
He genuinely looked like he didn’t know what I was talking about.

In the meantime, a whirlwind of thoughts passed through my head. Could it be—did Kian drink too much as well and forget?
That would be a godsend. Like winning the jackpot kind of luck.
I fiddled with the edge of the blanket and muttered,
“If you don’t remember, that’s… for the best.”

At that, Kian gave a slow, knowing smile. But for some reason… that smile felt loaded with meaning.
“Oh, could it be…”
He bent down and picked something up off the floor. It was a button.

“Are you referring to the part where you ripped my shirt?”
“……!”
He looked down with a wounded expression and murmured,

“If you wanted to see my body that badly, you could’ve just said so. I would’ve gladly shown it to you, Lady Olivia…”
“……”
Of course. He remembered everything. I screamed internally, overwhelmed by a tsunami of embarrassment.

***
The wealthiest man in the Empire—the Duke of Ashford—had a routine each morning the moment he woke.
He would smile tenderly at the woman in the photo frame.

“My dear, the weather is lovely today.”
It was how he greeted his wife in the photograph.
His wife—frozen in time fifteen years ago—still wore the same sunshine-like smile that had captivated him the moment they met.

She had died young, in a carriage accident.
Their only child was Olivia.
As much as he had loved his wife, the Duke had poured just as much love into his daughter.

But after his wife’s death, the Duke changed.
He never considered remarrying. And with no other heirs, Olivia became the sole successor.
A Duke's duties weren't easy.

He had to command his family and protect them from external threats.
If he died, Olivia would inherit it all. To prepare her, he raised her strictly. He believed that was the best way to help her in the long term. But...
‘I was a fool.’

The daughter who once said “Daddy is the best in the world” had started to distance herself.
By the time he realized something was wrong, it was already too late.
He knew how to earn money—but not how to repair a relationship with his daughter.

Time passed, and the gap between their hearts never closed.
And then it happened. Someone tried to take Olivia’s life.
From that day on, he made a decision:

He would no longer hold back from telling her he loved her.
The time you get to spend with someone precious is limited. So he vowed to change.
It might be too late, but he still wanted to connect with his daughter. Like any normal family, he wanted to share breakfast with her and have warm, lighthearted conversations.

And yet—
“She didn’t come home last night?”
“That is… Your Grace…”

The butler glanced at him nervously and delivered unexpected news.
“The young lady stayed the night at Sir Kian’s estate.”
“…What?”

The Duke’s eyebrows shot up threateningly.
Kian—the man who saved his dying daughter. He owed the young man a debt he could never repay.
He knew that. But Kian was still a man. And all men were untrustworthy by default. Even if he were a life-saving hero, he was no exception.

If he had done anything indecent to his daughter…!
The Duke stabbed his knife into the foie gras with excessive force. The butler flinched at the dark aura radiating from him.
But then, as if nothing had happened, the Duke gracefully resumed cutting his food.

‘Lost my composure for a moment there.’
As expected from the famously cold-headed Duke, he quickly regained control of his emotions.
Olivia was an adult. It wasn’t unthinkable for her to spend the night elsewhere. At twenty-two, she could be married already and it wouldn’t be strange.

But she wasn’t married. She didn’t even have a boyfriend. And the ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) only man around her recently was… Kian.
That thought sparked a possibility in the Duke’s mind.
‘Could she… like Kian?’

It wasn’t out of the question.
From what he had seen, Olivia wasn’t the type to keep men she didn’t care for close.
Even when Kian was a slave, she’d treated him with exceptional care.

It made no sense for someone to be that good to a person they didn’t like.
The Duke wiped his mouth with a napkin and spoke.
“Albert. Send a letter.”

“To whom, Your Grace?”
“I’d like to have lunch with Sir Kian.”
He had decided: 

He’d take this opportunity to sit down and have a nice, long talk with the man who might just become his future son-in-law.
***
If shame could kill, I would’ve dug my own grave ten times over by now.

I pulled the blanket over my head and hid like a criminal. Kian tried to console me.
“My apologies for teasing you.”
I mumbled from under the blanket that I was going home.

“You drank too much yesterday. You should eat something first.”
“I can eat at home.”
“I’ve already had everything prepared. Please eat before you go.”

His voice was so sincere. Feeling a bit guilty, I peeked my face out from under the blanket.
Kian looked at me with eyebrows slightly drawn down in a pleading expression.
His eyes—like crystal-clear lakes—rippled softly, like wind brushing the water’s surface.

The most handsome man in the entire Empire… begging.
It was too effective.
My heart melted like warm butter.

“…Fine. I’ll eat. But then I’m leaving.”
“Please do.”
Kian smiled in satisfaction, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

In the end, I went down to the dining room and had soup that was supposedly good for hangovers.
As the warm soup settled in my stomach, the torment from the night before began to ease.
The melted cheese and sweet onion flavors blended beautifully.

I ate with such focus that before I knew it, I’d emptied the bowl completely.
After the meal, feeling a little more human, I returned to the mansion.
Like a guilty criminal, I tiptoed past the foyer and tried to sneak up the stairs.

But when I reached halfway—
“Just getting in now?”
Startled, I nearly fell down the steps.

Standing at the top of the stairs was my father.
Why now, of all times…!
“Father…”

I stiffened, bracing for a scolding over my overnight stay.
But my father just smiled gently.
“Kian sent a letter last night. Said there was an important matter to discuss, and you stayed because it got too late.”

…First I’d heard of it.
Important matter to discuss?
So that’s what Kian wrote in the letter?

This morning, he told me I’d refused to go home even if it killed me…
But if I told the truth, I’d be in for a world of scolding.
I watched my father’s expression carefully and just nodded.

“Ah… yes, that’s right.”
“You must be tired. Go on and rest.”
“…Okay.”

My father didn’t press for details. He just nodded with the gentlest look.
It felt oddly out of character.
But I was too relieved at having avoided trouble to think deeply on it.

‘Thank God he didn’t find out I was drinking.’
I let out a quiet sigh of relief and headed to my room.
***

After Olivia returned home, a servant from House Ashford visited Kian’s estate.
They delivered a letter and promptly left.
‘Did Olivia send this?’

Kian took the letter into his study and opened it.
The sender was none other than the Duke of Ashford.
A personal letter from the Duke—that was surprising in and of itself.

Kian quickly read the contents. His eyes widened slightly.
‘He’s asking me to have lunch with him…?’
Kian was a little shaken.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t uncomfortable meeting the Duke one-on-one.
Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how the Duke saw him.
As Olivia’s former slave, it was hard to imagine he had a favorable impression.

Sure, the Duke was truly grateful that Kian had saved Olivia’s life.
‘But that’s a separate matter entirely.’
Kian didn’t want to remain just the man who saved her.

He wanted to be her partner.
If the Duke found out about his feelings for Olivia… what would he do?
Kian couldn’t read the man’s thoughts.

But there was one undeniable truth:
He needed to get along with him.
‘Because he’s her father.’

Kian immediately wrote and sent a reply.
The next day, he arrived at the meeting place on time.
At the entrance to an upscale restaurant, a staff member bowed politely and welcomed him.

“The Duke is expecting you. Please follow me.”
Kian was guided down a long hallway to a private room at the back—not the open dining hall.
Seated at the head of a banquet table was the Duke of Ashford, who greeted him with a smile at the corners of his wrinkled eyes.

“Welcome, Sir Kian.”
Kian returned a bright, respectful smile—the kind that made anyone like him—and gave a slight bow.
“Your Grace. I hope you’ve been well.”

“Quite. And you’re looking sharp, as always.”
As soon as Kian took his seat, courses began to arrive in order.
Over the gentle clinking of utensils, their conversation began.

“Last night, my daughter seems to have been in your care.”
“It was nothing.”
Kian answered politely.

The Duke’s sharp gray-blue eyes narrowed slightly.
“There wasn’t… any trouble, was there?”
Trouble.

There was no need to spell it out further—Kian knew exactly what was being asked.
He braced himself and opened his mouth with a solemn expression—