Daily Life of a Transmigrating Villain

'Is he just going to leave?' Emilia, seeing him, felt confused but slowly stood and looked outside the window of her room. A few minutes later, Damien left with a defeated look as he glanced in her direction before waving, "...just go away."

Even though she was hesitant, Emilia averted her gaze and returned to her bed. She lay down and curled up, lacking the mood to take a bath or even change her bridal dress, wanting nothing more than to control herself from running to that man.

.

.

.

.

.

'Sigh, she didn't even come running to hug me. How pitiful,' Damien thought, seeing Emilia turn away. His heart ached as he shook his head and shrugged his shoulder, knowing well that in the end, she would have no choice but to come running and hug him.

"Boss, is the work done?" The police officer, stationed in his car, questioned Damien as he climbed into the backseat.

"Yes, and this thing works, right?" Damien entered, closed the door, and glanced in the officer's direction.

"Of course, Boss, they are not called Joke Ball pens or disappearing inks for nothing, trust me," the officer informed about the pen he had provided the man seated in the back, which was known for having their ink disappear over time, applying a simple scientific method of ink composition breaking due to humidity.

"Give me your phone," Damien tapped on the board separating both of the seats, causing the officer to provide his phone through the space between them. Damien further inquired, "Have you brought shovels too?"

"Yes, Boss, they are in the back," the man seated in the driver's seat informed, though feeling confused about why he was asked to arrange a shovel. But he wasn't going to ask for reasons since it was against his work ethics.

"Hm, let's see," Damien opened the caller dial of the phone before starting to dial a number belonging to a particular board director who was considered the left hand of Gabriel Blake. He had remembered these numbers from the time he had purchased the shares of this company. Before the call could connect, he ordered, "Take us to highway number NH-972."

The motivation behind memorizing phone numbers was straightforward: It's essential to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

:: H-hello ::

[ 𝙴𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚅𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 -- 𝚜𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚝 ]

"Hello Jonathan, your rival has just gotten Damien Raphael to give most of his shares to her," Damien informed on the phone with a grin as the car started to move, his eyes glancing in the direction of the house, which was currently empty except for Emilia since her mother had rushed out somewhere.

:: Wait, is that why she called a meeting this late at night? ::

'Ah, mother-in-law, you seem too enthusiastic,' Damien couldn't help but notice how, as he came down the stairs, he didn't notice her presence, but now it came out that she had gone directly to the company and called all of the board members this late at night.

Not that it was unexpected from a woman who was cunning and hardworking, but she was old, and Damien, as a son-in-law, wanted nothing but to have her take some rest.

:: But who are you? ::

"Me? It's Amelia, but does it matter? Shouldn't you be thinking about how dangerous it could be after you lost Gabriel tonight?" Damien, placing one hand on the nearby window, glanced at the passing area, his head resting on his knuckles while with his other swollen hand he held the phone, which went silent for a moment before receiving another response.

:: Hey, bitch, why should I believe you? ::

"Hm, nice title, but whatever. Maybe you don't know, but Emilia Blake has engaged with Damien Raphael and in exchange, Damien returned all the shares," Damien, whose voice had become womanly, replied while foreseeing things that were needed to be placed in a format where at the end of the path, everything would align to his interest.

:: Is she correct? ::

'At least see the news, dumbass,' Damien felt his mouth twitch due to the stupidity of this Jonathan who had not even watched the news. Damien had given money to so many reporters just so that they could report about him getting engaged to Emilia Blake since mostly everyone was unaware of this engagement due to it being announced just a few days ago.

He paid all those reporters, showing how Amelia Crimwell was on the bad side with Damien Raphael and his fiancé, and even after that much publicity, this goon didn't even watch the news.

:: Damn it! How dare that old hag try to act smart! ::

'Hmm, at least his sidekick watches the news,' Damien kept tapping his feet, feeling how hard it was to deal with stupid people who didn't act the way they should.

"She has left for the company; right now, she should be on highway number NH-972," Damien informed as his car slowly turned towards the same highway.

:: She is dead! Fuck, call our men..... ::

With those words, the call got disconnected, causing Damien to roll his eyes before sighing, seeing how Emilia would be saddened, but he wanted to help his mother-in-law get together with her husband.

Was he evil for doing that?

"Boss, when will I receive my payment?" The officer, seated in the front, who was of short height, inquired after hearing how the man in the back just talked like a woman. He had heard everything and could at least understand that a few moments ago, the black sedan he saw was most likely going to be in some accident.

Though he didn't have complete knowledge about the situation, his phone's microphone was loud enough for him to hear everything and calculate the things.

"How about right now?" Damien placed the phone on the nearby seat, with his eyes turning towards the front seat, which was separated from the back one by a thin steel net wall acting as a protective layer. "Can you please turn the car to the side of the road?"

"Huh? Yes," Prior to merging onto the highway, they were only ten meters from the primary lane, which was bordered by trees along the regular road.

"You know why I chose you for these tasks?" Damien inquired with a soft smile while his one hand moved towards the nearby seat belt, lifting it and wrapping it around his palm, inquiring the officer who had a height of less than 4 feet, a thin physique, and was not popular among his gang due to being hardly suitable for any killings.

Yes, he was a criminal working on particular money according to their client's needs, and especially, his boss chose him among all the bulky men and even promised ten times more pay.

He thought it would be a risky task, but in the end, it wasn't much.

"Isn't it because I am swifter and sharper than those bulky bastards? Haha, right Boss—Kughgg?!!" Before the man could say something, a sharp force bound his neck before pulling his neck back with a force that seemed to break it at any moment, causing his eyes to turn red with saliva dripping as he felt the thing wrapped around his neck being a seat belt.

"Aghh....B-boss...arghhh?!"

"Nah, you see, I chose you because you will not be that heavy to bury somewhere," Damien calmly replied, with the moonlight making its way through the car's window and falling over his body as both his hands clenched the seat belt's ends, one leg placed on the front seat as he increased the force in his leg, tightening it to strangle the officer sooner.

"Arrhhggg—y-yo—CRACK" Before the man could utter a word, his neck broke with a sharp crack, his eyes bulging and crimson as though they might pop from their sockets. Saliva pooled in his mouth while his nose ran, veins protruding from his face, all vividly illustrating the excruciating agony he experienced before succumbing to death.

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