Villainess Marked For Her Alpha Chapter 45: Lily’s Anger

Lily stord into her penthouse the mont the private elevator doors sighed shut, but not before yanking the ridiculous disguise from her face with furious tugs.

The oversized sunglasses clattered to the marble floor first, lenses cracking faint against the glossy surface; next ca the floppy sunhat, which she ripped off and flung like a frisbee toward the brown chaise, wide brim crumpling on impact. She tore off her mask from her face as gritted her teeth.

"Fuck! Fuck her!" All she could feel was—anger, anger, and anger.

The scarf—silk, once elegantly knotted to hide her signature waves—unravelled in a red coil at her feet as she clawed it free, leaving her orange hair tumbling wild and free. Only then did she hurl her clutch purse across the foyer, the leather missile thudding heavy against the chaise with a muffled whump.

Crystal pendants on the chandelier tinkled in faint protest, the city skyline glittering mocking through floor-to-ceiling windows—neon veins pulsing indifferent to her rage.

She couldn’t believe it—soone hated her movies. Emily Leonhart, that utter idiot—couldn’t she see the raw genius in every movent, every perfectly tid punch? Neon Vengeance was gold; Emily was blind. Everyone liked her movies—even her rivals—no one could help but admire her, yet she thought that her movie was pathetic.

"Calm down, Lily," Faye drawled from the marble threshold, kicking off her own heels with lazy precision—still half-buried under her disguise which she couldn’t wait to shed. "Though I’d say go full mad if you’re jumping off the terrace—saves us the drama."

"You should jump, Faye!" Lily snarled, eyes blazing, crimson gown swirling as she whirled, manicured nails clawing the last pins from her updo to let waves cascade free.

"Ah, you can jump from the balcony."

"Do you want to stab you to death?"

Faye whistled low, hat tumbling to the rug as she finally peeled off her sunglasses, auburn curls spilling triumphant. "Wow, you’re pissed, cousin. Why’d I even tag along? My girlfriend’s been nagging for a romantic getaway—beaches, wine, no ego explosions." She missed her girlfriend very much, who was waiting for her at their ho.

"Why the fuck didn’t you go with her then?" Lily spat, kicking the crumpled scarf aside, silk pooling red at her feet like spilled wine.

"Because my dear idiotic cousin forced to go with her to see her own movie—in these stupid getups," Faye shot back, unwinding her scarf with exaggerated relief and tossing it atop Lily’s pile. "By the way, it sucked. Overacted, plot holes big as your head. Be glad your fans haven’t clocked your real personality—narcissist in heels. Otherwise, they would burn your puppets."

"I’m going to kill you!" Lily lunged half-step, fists balling, but Faye sidestepped smooth, penthouse air thickening with tension and fury.

"Do you want to fight with , Lily?" Faye smirked.

Lily glared at her. "You won’t survive if I really fought with you, Faye."

"Okay, okay—are you sad because Emily didn’t like your movie?" Faye’s eyes glead wicked, leaning against the kitchen island’s black granite, pouring herself a chilled Sancerre from the fridge—disguise fully shed now, savouring freedom. She couldn’t help but empathize with Emily. Both of them hated Lily’s movies.

"Why would I care about her?!" Lily’s voice cracked whip-sharp, pacing to the windows, skyline blurring through hot vision—Emily’s laugh echoing traitorous from the beach strip.

"Because your lover—or future lover—trashed it." Faye sipped deep, blue eyes mirroring Lily’s but cooler, cutting. "Stung, huh?"

"I don’t give a fuck about her!" Lily whirled back, cheeks flushed high. "But how could anyone not like my movie? Next ti, I’ll force her to watch—drag her ass to a private screening, make her see brilliance!"

"You can’t do that," Faye snorted, swirling her glass.

"Yes, I can! She’s an idiot! Weak oga at best—no one likes her except those pathetic cat groups fawning over her crap! Even if I force her, what she can do? That day I helped her! If I wasn’t there, she would have been kidnapped! Even sold maybe!"

"You will what?"

"Didn’t you hear ? I would have fucking forced her to do whatever I wanted! I am an alpha! A real, dominant alpha!"

"She’s an independent oga, Lily." Faye’s tone iced over, setting the glass down with a crystal clink. "You can’t force your ideals on her. What, you being misogynist now?"

"No, I’m not!" Lily’s full lips trembled with a snarl, hands fisting gown silk.

"Yes, you are." Faye straightened, gaze pitying-sharp. "Your narcissism sickens . Best if she stays far from you—I feel sorry for anyone stuck orbiting your black hole. I was wrong to ship her with you."

"Faye—"

"No." Faye shook her head firm, hair swaying as she turned on her heel, striding toward the guest wing’s hall—discarded disguise trailing like shed skin. "I don’t want to hear your excuses." The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Lily alone with the skyline’s cold stare and echoes of her cousin’s disdain.

Lily drew a deep, shuddering breath, chest rising sharp beneath the crimson gown as she pressed fingers to the cool marble of the penthouse island.

The city skyline mocked her through the towering windows, neon indifferent to her turmoil, Faye’s retreating footsteps echoing hollow down the guest wing hall.

Slowly, deliberately, she exhaled—control seeping back like ice over a crackling lake. Faye had struck ho, sharp as ever—the narcissism label hung heavy, a mirror to her own venomous snap at Emily’s independence, her blind rage over a movie critique twisting into sothing uglier, more personal.

She understood Faye’s implication now, clear as the glittering sprawl below—no re taunt, but a scalpel to the truth. But that didn’t an she would forgive Emily. Yes, she was wrong—but Emily was wrong too. Acting was her pride and joy—she never tolerated anyone disrespecting her acting, or her movies.

"You have no right to hate my movies, Emily. Next ti, I will show you what I can do."

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Author’s Note:Hello readers! I hope you are doing well. Most of you ignore the ’AUTHOR’S THOUGHT’ that’s why I am putting my thoughts here. Those who like this novel—comnt whatever you like. Vote. Throw Golden Tickets at . ’Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give more motivation’ —I am copying this, okay?

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