Villain Ch 1868. Hot Spring
He set the mug down, rolling his shoulders like he was loosening armor after a long campaign.
His eyes drifted over the table—Vivian sprawled across her chair in nothing but a thin robe, Bella wrapped in a blanket toga, Shea in her bra like she was two seconds from declaring another training session, Larissa sipping wine like it was ten at night instead of ten in the morning, Alice picking at a sticker still stuck to her thigh, Jane scribbling notes in her battered book, and Azura hugging her robe like she was guarding a secret she couldn't put into words.
Chaos. Every single one of them. And still—his chaos.
He exhaled and tapped the counter. "Alright. I've got an idea."
Eight pairs of tired, curious, suspicious eyes locked on him.
