NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain-Chapter 160: Creep Near Juliana!

Hand in hand, their fingers casually intertwined, Artis and Juliana strolled through the bustling marketplace like a couple who owned the damn place.

Every now and then, his thumb would rub circles against the back of her hand, a silent reminder that he wasn't just holding her—he was claiming her. And the way she smirked in response? She knew it too.

Then, Juliana suddenly gasped.

"Aww... look at her! So cute!"

She pointed at a little girl skipping through the crowd, clutching a tiny bouquet of wildflowers like it was the greatest treasure in the world.

Artis followed her gaze, lips quirking in amusement. Juliana was the kind of woman who could switch from devious minx to doting mother in half a second.

"You want flowers?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She turned to him with mock offense.

"Who doesn't want flowers, Mr. Shameless?"

She gave him a playful jab to the ribs, which only made him chuckle.

"How many?" he asked.

Juliana blinked.

"How many what?"

"Flowers," he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "How many flowers do you want?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, studying his face carefully—as if trying to see where the hell he was going with this. Then, with a mischievous glint in her eye, she spread her arms wide.

"As much as I can carry," she declared.

Big mistake.

Artis stopped dead in his tracks, his smile widening into something dangerous.

Juliana raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

He turned to face her, eyes glinting like he had just won a bet she didn't know she made.

"You said you wanted flowers, right?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Juliana folded her arms.

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you can carry them all?"

That grin. That goddamn grin.

Something told her she had just fucked up.

Juliana tilted her head, brow raised in suspicion. "Carry them all? Where's the—wait, what are you doing?"

Before she could finish, Artis crouched down, reached for a nearby vendor's cart, and slid back a small latch.

Click.

The moment the lock clicked open, the wooden lid burst upwards like a dam breaking.

And then—it rained.

No—it fucking flooded.

A tsunami of flowers spilled out like an explosion of color, cascading in all directions, petals flying through the air like they had just stepped into a goddamn fairy tale.

Juliana barely had time to react before a bouquet of roses smacked her right in the face.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

She shrieked, staggering back.

Flowers. Flowers everywhere.

Pink. Red. Blue. Yellow. Some weird-ass ones that looked like they belonged in an alien jungle.

They poured onto the street, burying Artis up to his goddamn knees, while passerby stopped and stared like they had just witnessed a miracle—or a crime.

Juliana stood there, completely flabbergasted.

"HOW MANY FLOWERS DID YOU BUY?!" she shouted, shaking her hands at the sheer absurdity of it.

"Enough for you."

Artis said smoothly, as if this wasn't the most ridiculous, over-the-top display of affection ever.

Juliana gawked. Mouth hanging open. Speechless.

What kind of fucking idiot buys this many flowers?!

What kind of insane, reckless, stupidly rich man thinks this is a normal thing to do?!

And yet…

Her heart betrayed her.

That stupid, traitorous organ thumped harder in her chest.

Maybe it was the grand gesture. Maybe it was the fact that, despite the absolute absurdity of this man, he really did mean every single word.

Or maybe it was just the way he was looking at her.

Smug. Amused. Completely, utterly, hopelessly into her.

And fuck if that wasn't the hottest thing ever.

"I-I can't take them all home."

She whispered, her voice caught between awe and sheer panic.

Artis just grinned like the smug bastard he was.

"Don't worry!"

He threw a wink her way.

"You'll be sleeping on a flowerbed tonight, my fair lady. That's a promise."

Juliana's breath hitched. This man was impossible. Stupid. Shameless. And yet, somehow—irresistible.

By the time she had recovered from her mini heart attack, Artis had already flipped a silver coin to a nearby ox-cart driver.

The old man caught it with ease, eyeing the mountain of petals spilling onto the street and shrugging.

"Eh, I've hauled worse."

Artis had planned this ahead of time. The whole damn thing.

Juliana swore she felt her brain short-circuit.

Before she could even process her next words, he grabbed her hand and whisked her away.

...

The evening air was cool and sweet, tinged with the scent of cherry blossoms drifting through the breeze.

Hand in hand, they strolled through the city, the sky painted in brilliant hues of orange and pink, the bridges casting long shadows over the shimmering river below.

A perfect date. A romantic walk through breathtaking scenery.

But of course, Artis was incapable of being normal.

At every opportunity, he made sure to put on a fucking show for the gawking onlookers.

A possessive squeeze of her ass. A firm, unapologetic handful—like he was staking a claim.

A wandering hand slipping beneath the fabric of her dress, fingertips tracing slow, lazy circles against her bare back. freewebnσvel.cøm

A sudden pinch at her waist, making her yelp and glare at him, only for him to smirk and pull her closer, whispering in her ear like a devil.

Meanwhile, the men around them were absolutely losing their shit.

"Is he seriously groping her in public?!"

"That lucky bastard! That should be ME!"

"WHY does he get all the hot women?!"

Artis, of course, soaked in their jealousy like a man bathing in divine nectar.

Every time he touched her, every time he flashed them a look that said, 'Yeah, she's mine, and you will never have her,' their frustration only grew.

...

They walked, they talked, they laughed—hell, Artis made damn sure this date was going to be legendary.

The kind of date that would be burned into their brains forever, seared into their souls like a brand that screamed, Yeah, that was the best fucking night of my life.

Juliana had a craving for hot steamed buns—because of course she did—so Artis, being the ever-dutiful man, set out to get them.

The line was longer than a monk's vow of silence, so he parked her under a dimly lit spot, shielding her from the prying eyes of common peasants.

And since Artis was, let's be honest, hot as fuck, the bakery owner—a lady well past her prime but still carrying the thirst of a desert traveler—took one look at him and waved him straight to the front.

Because come on—age didn't erase feelings. A woman's gotta appreciate a fine piece of meat when she sees one, right?

But barely seconds after leaving Juliana alone, Artis spotted someone creeping up to her. A hooded figure. His gut clenched.

'Oh fuck no.'

For a split second, he thought it was that dipshit hero, Reiner.

That womanizing, backstabbing, self-righteous sack of fuckery.

Ain't no way he was letting that cockroach sniff around Juliana. Not that Artis was scared. Hell no.

At this point, Reiner was so busy kissing royal ass, he wouldn't dare sabotage himself over a piece of pussy. No, the bastard had priorities.

Still, Artis squinted, scanning the figure. And then… he grinned.

Because those weren't the proportions of a sneaky little hero bastard.

Those were feminine curves. Long legs. A juicy ass that the cloak barely managed to conceal. Tits so perky they were practically screaming for attention.

It wasn't Reiner.

It was the kitty.

And she was back for round two.