Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain

"But…" Akira's voice shifted, a playful lilt to it.

"It won't work. Not on me. He's trying to make me curious, to wonder what he's up to. But I already know what he's doing."

She leaned back slightly in her wheelchair, her hands resting gracefully on the armrests as she considered Damien's actions.

The old woman could see the wheels turning in Akira's mind—this wasn't a situation that had taken her by surprise.

If anything, she seemed pleased by the turn of events, intrigued by Damien's boldness.

"So, what did he say?" Akira asked, her tone now casual but probing.

She wasn't worried; she was merely curious about the details of Damien's latest move.

The old woman, still keenly observant, offered a small smile as she replied, "He mentioned he's going on a date tonight."

Akira's eyes narrowed at those words, though the flicker of emotion that passed through her gaze was well-hidden.

A date?

Good job, Damien Raphael, she thought.

That's unexpected.

But we're heading in the right direction.

It was an unexpected move, one designed to provoke a reaction, likely an attempt to use jealousy to his advantage.

But Akira saw it for what it was—a carefully calculated play meant to test her response.

She wasn't fooled by it.

If anything, she found it amusing.

Damien was sharper than most, it seemed.

Known for his lack of intellect in public circles, here he was adjusting his strategy, learning her personality in just a single day.

Akira's lips curled into a smile, one full of quiet satisfaction.

Interesting.

'He's making me work a little.'

Good.

'I'll play along.'

Without missing a beat, she looked at her attendant and said, "Lily, keep an eye on him."

The young woman holding the wheelchair blinked, slightly taken aback. "You wish to watch him, young miss?"

"Of course," Akira replied smoothly.

"But make sure he knows you're watching. Drop a hint here and there. Let him think he's the one trapping me in his game. It'll be fun to see how far he thinks he's in control."

The young woman gave a small nod, understanding Akira's intention perfectly.

The young miss was letting Damien think he was hunting, while in reality, she was allowing herself to be pursued, only to spring her own trap when the time came.

Akira was no ordinary prey—she was toying with the hunter, letting him believe he was the one in control.

Akira smiled again, inwardly amused.

She had no intention of falling for Damien's trick, but she appreciated his effort.

"It's going to be an interesting game, Damien Raphael. Let's see how far you're willing to go."

The old woman quietly marveled at the young miss's foresight.

Damien may have thought he was manipulating the situation, but Akira was always ten steps ahead.

And so, the game continued.

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The attendant, Lily, sat in the corner of the cafe, her petite figure almost hidden behind the oversized menu.

With her short hair falling across her forehead, she occasionally glanced toward Damien and Natasha, though her disinterest was obvious.

She knew what Damien was up to.

This was nothing more than a predictable strategy to rattle her young miss, Akira.

He thought playing games with another woman would somehow push Akira to react.

But Akira was too sharp for such trivial tactics, and Lily knew it.

She picked at her food, more focused on the taste than on Damien's antics.

Her eyes lazily flickered in his direction from time to time, not to truly keep watch but to give the illusion that she was keeping an eye on him.

In truth, she couldn't care less about whatever show he was putting on with Natasha.

"Who would even bother keeping an eye on this idiot?" she thought, stuffing another piece of chicken into her mouth.

Lily's indifference was almost palpable, and as time passed, she noticed Damien and Natasha stand up.

Natasha looked furious, her clenched fists and fiery glare directed at Damien.

Whatever had just happened between them, it clearly hadn't gone well.

Lily sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Drama again," she muttered under her breath.

But as Natasha stormed off, closely followed by Damien, something stirred inside Lily.

She was meant to be keeping an eye on them, after all, if only for appearances.

And with Akira's instructions clear, she couldn't just sit back now that they were heading somewhere private.

Reluctantly, she stood up, a chicken leg still in her hand.

She took a last, longing look at her plate—three full meals, seven chicken buckets—barely halfway through her feast.

Irritated at being disturbed mid-meal, she tossed her napkin on the table, muttering to herself.

"Of course, they couldn't wait until I was done eating."

Throwing some cash on the table, Lily hurriedly followed behind them, her movements swift but purposeful.

Damien and Natasha disappeared down the hallway toward the hotel rooms, and Lily tracked them silently until she saw them enter room number 107.

She knew better than to directly follow them into the room.

Instead, she casually entered the adjacent room, number 106, glad to finally have a moment to herself.

She threw herself onto the bed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh, but it was short-lived.

The curiosity was killing her, and Akira would expect a full report, even if she had no personal interest in whatever nonsense Damien was pulling.

Without thinking much, she slammed her fist against the wall between the rooms.

Placing her ear against it, she realized the walls were soundproof, much to her annoyance.

"Well, that's just perfect," she muttered sarcastically.

Not one to be outdone, Lily noticed the open balcony connected to both rooms.

Lily crouched on the balcony, peeking through the crack in the door as her eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the room.

What she saw made her pause mid-bite on the chicken leg she'd taken with her.

Pah pah pah

Damien was on top of Natasha, pinning her down on the bed with a forceful grip, his body moving in a steady, relentless rhythm.

Natasha's legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, her back arched as she moaned out loud, her voice breaking the room's silence.

"Ahn...Ungh....Hngh!!"

Her nails dug into his back as she gasped for air, each of Damien's thrusts making her entire body jerk up in response.

His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer each time with an intensity that made it clear he was in full control.

The woman's moans echoed louder, filling the room as her head tilted back, lost in the moment.

Lily blinked, tilting her head to one side, still chewing the piece of chicken in her mouth.

"Is he a rabbit or something?" she muttered under her breath, her tone flat, unimpressed despite the scene unfolding in front of her.

Damien's movements were strong and relentless, his muscles flexing as he pounded into Natasha—though Lily didn't know her name yet, who writhed beneath him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Every time she moaned, it sounded more desperate, more uncontrolled.

"AHNN...IEEEK!" Natasha cried, her voice trembling.

Lily rolled her eyes, taking another bite of chicken and leaning lazily against the wall.

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The way Damien's body moved—it wasn't just the speed, but the way he maintained such precision, such focus with each movement.

Natasha's hands clawed at the sheets, her voice filled with pleading as Damien grunted softly in response, tightening his hold on her.

"S-stop!? Too fast...Ahn, Anhggh!"

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "Definitely a rabbit," she muttered again, tossing the chicken bone aside.

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