The Villains Must Win-Chapter 146: Reid Graves 26

Somewhere deep in Roman’s ego—or maybe his heart—he thought that if anyone were to end up with Tabitha, it would’ve been him.

After all, wasn’t that how these stories went? Bully-turned-lover. Redemption arcs. Slow-burn pining. Mutual growth.

Except . . . she had rewritten her story. And she had left him out of it.

Which might’ve been easier to swallow if Gwendolyn wasn’t also doing the exact same thing.

She was avoiding him like the plague. Ducking out of hallways. Blocking his number. Ignoring his attempts to talk, text, even just say hi. Roman had expected her to be shaken, sure—things between them had escalated quickly. But what he hadn’t expected . . . was distance.

Most girls—he hated how confident this thought came to him—fell harder after intimacy. Especially the first time.

Especially after he took their virginity.

And yet, Gwendolyn had done the exact opposite.

She withdrew.

Not in anger, not with public drama, but in this eerie, complete silence. As if she’d decided—somewhere between sunrise and regret—that it was a mistake she didn’t want to talk about.

As if he, Roman Vaughn, the campus darling, had become . . . forgettable.

And that stung more than he cared to admit.

She didn’t even attend graduation.

The moment final exams wrapped up, she packed her things, hugged Tabitha and Reid goodbye with a teary smile, gave her friends a vague explanation about "finding herself," and vanished. Off to some quiet town or distant country. Somewhere far enough that Roman couldn’t find her—even if he wanted to.

Which, infuriatingly, he did.

Tabitha had waved Gwendolyn off at the gates, but as soon as the car disappeared down the road, a strange feeling gripped her.

It wasn’t sadness. Gwendolyn deserved peace.

It wasn’t fear. She knew Gwendolyn was stronger than most gave her credit for.

It was . . . dread. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Like something had shifted in the universe.

A low hum beneath her skin. An itch she couldn’t scratch. The kind of intuition that didn’t shout, but whispered—constantly. Something’s off.

Tabitha looked back toward the school, where Reid was waiting with two iced coffees and a hopeful smile, his foot tapping nervously. Her heart swelled at the sight, but it was muted now by the unease taking root.

Because the story was deviating.

Roman and Gwendolyn were supposed to be fighting by now.

They were supposed to be in the heat of it—shouting at each other under the old oak tree near the quad, Roman pleading for forgiveness while Gwendolyn hurled scathing truths at him like daggers. That was how the story went. Messy arguments followed by grand gestures. Public apologies, stubborn silences, reconciliations that left them both breathless. That was their story—an on-and-off, hot-and-cold romance that defied logic but made perfect sense in its chaos.

They were meant to be that couple who couldn’t stay apart. The ones who broke up before midterms and got back together during finals. The ones who drifted apart over summer break, only to reunite like magnets the second they locked eyes on the first day of fall semester.

College sweethearts, drama and all. They were supposed to graduate, bicker about where to move, and then—after years of back-and-forths, of loving and hurting, and jealousy, and healing—get married.

That was the plan.

But now . . . Gwendolyn was gone.

Not just avoiding Roman.

Not just ghosting him.

Gone.

Vanished without a trace. She hadn’t even walked at graduation. She had simply packed her things, said her goodbyes, and disappeared to "somewhere quiet," leaving behind only vague answers and a broken thread in the story.

"What the hell?" Tabitha nearly screamed, her fingers digging into her palms.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She knew it.

Something had shifted that night at prom. That was the moment—the spark, the divergence. The night she showed up in that red dress and kissed Reid like the hero claiming his princess.

Had that one moment changed everything?

Tabitha bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Her heart pounded. The soul inside her twitched uncomfortably.

She had been careful. So damn careful.

She thought she’d just nudged fate in her favor. Gently turned the wheel to fix what had once been broken. But maybe . . . maybe even a nudge was too much.

Because now, instead of chasing Gwendolyn, Roman was spiraling. He didn’t even know where she went.

Tabitha could see it in his eyes, those stormy brows and clenched fists. The way he paced the hallways, asking anyone if they had "heard from Gwen." The way he snapped at teachers and kicked lockers and looked lost in a way that didn’t fit his usually arrogant demeanor.

And that was good . . . right?

If he was still chasing her, then maybe the original thread wasn’t completely severed.

Maybe it could still be salvaged.

But the seed of doubt had already sprouted in Tabitha’s chest. Because in all her subtle manipulations, in all her attempts to rewrite her happy ending with Reid, she might’ve broken the story once more.

Was it her fault?

Was this . . . again . . . her doing?

Tabitha let out a shaky breath, dragging a hand down her face like a weary war general staring at a crumbling battle map.

"Welp . . . looks like I really did ruin the original storyline," she muttered to herself, the words falling out like a confession to the universe.

All because she wanted to save the villain. Of course.

She knew it. Deep down, she’d always known it. Romance with the school’s certified antagonist-slash-abs-kingpin was basically the equivalent of slapping fate in the face and shouting, "Plot twist, baby!" And now, the butterfly effect had apparently taken steroids, flown off-script, and knocked Gwendolyn clear off the grid.

Still, Tabitha could only hope that nothing too drastic was about to happen.

Though . . . given her luck, and her record in the past worlds?

Yeah, drastic was probably already knocking at the door, holding a flaming love letter and a chainsaw.

For now, all she could do was prepare. Steady herself. Keep her ears open, her eyes sharper than Roman’s jawline, and her sneakers ready to run if things went kaboom again.

And this time? Oh-ho-ho, this time—no more dying. No tragic villain heartbreak. No ending with her lying on the metaphorical roadside while the story drives off into the sunset without her.

She and Reid? They were getting their happy ever ending. No question about it. Come hell, high water, or hormonal chaos.

And when that day came—when she finally won and survived the plotline without getting turned into emotional roadkill—she was going to march right up to that smug little bunny system spirit, look it straight in the eyes, and slap sparkly five stars across its furry face.

Tabitha snickered, already imagining the shocked squeak and twitching ears.

She would definitely get that five star and advance to B-rank worlds.