The Villains Must Win-Chapter 140: Reid Graves 20

"What the fuck are you doing with my woman?!" Roman growled, grabbing Reid by the collar.

Ah. Classic Roman. Always defaulting to physical violence instead of logical reasoning.

"First of all," Reid wheezed, adjusting his glasses, "your girl is currently attempting to kidnap me onto a dance floor, which, frankly, is more terrifying than your threats."

Roman’s fist clenched tighter, but before he could throw a punch, Gwendolyn yanked his arm back.

"I’m not your girl," she snapped, shoving him away. "And leave him alone!"

Roman barely heard her at first—his eyes had just landed on the nearly empty drink in her hand. He frowned, looking her up and down.

"Are you drunk?" he asked, his tone shifting from rage to disbelief.

Reid, who had been vigorously adjusting his tie and mentally preparing to get punched, exhaled dramatically.

"Ah, yes, let’s finally address the elephant in the room," he said, dusting off his sleeves. "In case you’re wondering how we got to this delightful moment, allow me to summarize in a way your underdeveloped brain can understand." He cracked his knuckles like he was preparing to deliver a dissertation.

"At precisely twenty-two minutes past eight, Gwendolyn, suffering from an apparent existential crisis regarding her on-again, off-again emotional turmoil with you, decided to engage in highly questionable decision-making. This led her to the punch bowl, which—given the fact that Chad and his merry band of idiots had been cackling around it for a solid ten minutes—was clearly spiked with a drink that has, statistically speaking, an 87.6% chance of being completely illegal."

Roman blinked.

Gwendolyn hiccupped.

"And because someone—who shall remain nameless but is currently glaring at me like a caveman discovering fire—was too busy brooding to notice his girlfriend-turned-civilian had developed a newfound appreciation for fermented beverages, she managed to consume an undisclosed amount of alcohol, leading us to this moment where she is currently attempting to drag me onto a dance floor despite being unable to walk in a straight line."

Reid pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Any further questions?"

Silence.

Roman’s jaw twitched as he processed all of that.

Gwendolyn hiccupped again and grinned.

"Wait. Are we talking about me?" she asked cheerfully.

Reid sighed, looking at Roman. "This is your problem now."

"She is my problem," Roman muttered, still glaring at Reid.

"Great!" Reid clapped his hands. "Then you won’t mind if I walk away."

He took a step back, only for Gwendolyn to latch onto his sleeve.

"Noooo, Reid, you have to dance with me!" she whined.

"No, I really don’t," he deadpanned.

"You do," she insisted. "It’s prom!"

Before Reid could come up with another excuse, another voice interrupted them.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Tabitha entered the room.

Just when Reid thought the night couldn’t get any weirder, the air around the prom seemed to shift. The chatter died down, heads turned, and even the music seemed to lower in volume as if the universe itself needed a moment to process what had just happened.

Tabitha had arrived.

But this—this—was not the same Tabitha who usually bounced into a room like a chaotic rainbow hurricane, spewing loud opinions and unsolicited dance advice. No, this was something else entirely.

She stood at the entrance like a femme fatale stepping out of a movie scene, one hand on her hip, the other delicately brushing her now-black wavy hair that cascaded down her back like some gothic mermaid. Gone were the usual neon colors and playful braids—this was sleek, sultry, and absolutely lethal.

Her dress—if it could even be called a dress and not a certified heart attack—was a body-hugging, sparkling red number that shimmered with every slight movement. It clung to her curves in a way that defied the very laws of physics.

Every inch of her frame, which had once been dismissed as "chubby," now looked like a sculpted masterpiece. It was as if whatever magical forces governed prom nights had redistributed everything to the "right" places. Hips? Check. Hourglass waist? Check. Legs that suddenly looked a mile long? Double check.

And then there was her face.

Reid’s brain nearly blue-screened.

Her lips were painted in a very bold red—like dangerous red. The kind of red that screamed, I know my worth, and also, I might steal your wallet and your soul. Her eyes, once wide and mischievous, now held a dreamy, sultry gaze. Whether it was intentional or she just couldn’t see well without her usual funky glasses, it didn’t matter—because it worked.

Roman, Roman, the school’s resident bad boy, literally blinked twice and swallowed so hard it was audible over the music. This was a man who had probably seen a lot in his lifetime, but apparently, he had not been prepared for this.

Meanwhile, Reid—Reid was experiencing a full-on existential crisis. His already bulging eyes somehow bulged even more, to the point where it looked like he had just been electrocuted. He actually adjusted his glasses three times, as if somehow, somehow, they were the ones malfunctioning and not his entire perception of reality.

"Wh—" he tried to speak, but all that came out was a weak, strangled noise that sounded like a deflating balloon.

Tabitha grinned, sashaying forward in a way that made the sparkling red dress really earn its paycheck. Her cleavage almost slipping as she walk. "What’s with the faces? You guys look like I just committed a federal crime."

"You did!" Reid blurted, still looking like he was on the verge of cardiac arrest. "Where is the rest of your dress?!" free𝑤ebnovel.com

Tabitha gasped in mock offense. "Excuse me? This is fashion!"

"That is a scandal with sequins!"

Roman, still not recovered, coughed into his fist. "Tabitha, you—uh—look . . ." He cleared his throat, looking away like he needed to physically recover from whatever just happened.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she said, flipping her hair with a smirk. "I’m hot."

Reid, still stuck somewhere between admiration and sheer confusion, could only mutter, "I just—what happened—how—?"

Tabitha winked. "Let’s just say I finally felt it."

And just like that, she grabbed Reid by the arm, flashing a triumphant grin at Roman and a thoroughly drunk Gwendolyn.

"If you’ll excuse us lady and brute, we have a dance to attend," she declared, as if she were royalty and the dance floor was her kingdom.

Before Reid could process what was happening—let alone protest—Tabitha spun on her heel and dragged him away, leaving Roman looking confused and Gwendolyn pouting like someone had just stolen her dessert.